“They break you” -- Colombia debates a ban on conversion therapy

• Bill seeks to ban conversion therapy in Colombia
• One in five Colombians have undergone the practice
• Legislative effort is third in three years

BOGOTÁ - Juan Viana recalls having a happy childhood in a Christian community in Bogotá but when he came out as gay at age 18, that all changed.

"Unfortunately, that community of support became a place of deep repudiation of who I really was," Viana, now 48, told Context.

His family took him to a centre for 'conversion therapy' - aimed at changing a person's sexual orientation or gender identity - on the advice of a psychologist.

"I was told that homosexuality was a disease, that it was caused by a demonic force that was going to destroy my family," Viana said.

He said he went to the centre willingly and stayed for months, thinking he was protecting his loved ones from destruction but found himself living in a nightmare.

"They break you in all senses: physically, mentally," he said.

Several times he thought of taking his own life and tried once, he said.

"They were the darkest moments of my life,” he said.

Such traumatic experiences could become illegal in Colombia, where an estimated one in five LGBTQ+ people have undergone conversion therapy, according to the government's Ombudsman's Office.

Lawmakers are considering a bill to ban conversion therapy in the South American nation. Other countries where it is permitted include China, South Africa and the United Kingdom.

An unknown number of unlicensed rehabilitation clinics in Colombia and elsewhere in Latin America offer such therapy based on the idea that homosexuality, bisexuality and transgender identities are a mental illness that needs to be cured, rights groups said.

The World Health Organization removed homosexuality from its list of mental illnesses in 1990.

In Colombia, LGBTQ+ advocates have documented a range of conversion therapy practices that include humiliation, exorcism, food deprivation, electroshocks, waterboarding and rape of lesbian women.

The new legislation aims to criminalise the therapy in the conservative and Catholic country, where activists say faith is often used to mask the practices.

"We hope that more and more Colombians will understand that this is what the right to liberty, the right to intimacy and the right to having an identity looks like," said Carolina Giraldo, a lawmaker for the centre-left Green Alliance and a proponent of the bill.

Third time's a charm?

Two previous proposed bans were defeated after conservative lawmakers and evangelical and Catholic groups mobilised in opposition.

They argued that a ban on conversion therapy could land priests and parents in prison, and some said LGBTQ+ groups wanted to turn children gay and trans.

Such a ban "infringes upon family autonomy by preventing parents from guiding their children," said conservative senator María Fernanda Cabal after voting against last year's bill.

From Brazil and Mexico to Spain and Vietnam, at least 17 countries have nationwide legislation in the works targeting the practice, according to ILGA-World, an international LGBTQ+ rights group.

LGBTQ+ activists in Colombia hope the third time is the charm.

"When we first started to talk about these practices, people just didn't believe something like this could still happen in Colombia," said Danne Belmont, executive director at GAAT, a Bogotá-based trans rights group.

Belmont, a trans woman, said she was given testosterone as a child and underwent exorcisms in efforts to change who she was.

Advocates have altered their approach since the first bill was introduced in 2022, trying to broaden its appeal.

In the current rendition, the campaign is not only that LGBTQ+ people have "nothing to heal" but it asks their parents to "always love them," Belmont said.

"This bill is aimed at Colombia's families, at offering safe spaces where people can ask questions about their sexual orientation and gender identity," she said.

Contrary to claims made by some Catholic lawmakers and ultra-Catholic groups, Father Carlos Guillermo Arias Jiménez of Colombia's Bishop's Conference told Context that the latest bill does not contradict religious freedom.

"The church could not accept, nor has it ever taught, the practice of actions aimed at changing or reversing people's sexual orientation," he said.

Colombia's Evangelical Confederation did not reply to several requests for comment.

In Congress, the bill passed its first reading in April with support from members of various political parties, but it must pass two more readings before next year's elections.

Survivors, not victims

Belmont said trauma often prevents many LGBTQ+ people from realizing they have undergone conversion therapy until they hear stories from their peers.

A national network was set up in May of more than 50 people who have undergone conversion therapy to share their stories on social media and at events in hopes they will help others.

"Sometimes conversion therapy is a gradual, sophisticated process that mixes religion, spirituality and psychology that lays the ground," David Zuluaga, 27, who was raised in the small town of Antioquia.

What started as manipulation and social isolation at age 12 turned into being hit in the stomach at age 14 to make him "vomit the spirit of homosexuality," he said.

The conversion therapy lasted until he was 17, but it took him far longer to understand what had happened, let alone speak about it.

"Fear has to change sides. We used to be ashamed of having gone through this," said Zuluaga, now an out gay man.

"But they should be the ones who are ashamed of having done this, of still doing this – mistreating, abusing and torturing people."

According to research by the United Nations' independent expert on LGBTQ+ rights, which has documented conversion therapy in at least 100 countries including Uganda, the Philippines and the United States, the practices leave deep physical and psychological traces.

"It broke my relationship with my family, with spirituality, with my body," said Viana, who added that it has taken decades to rebuild bonds with his family, trust people and find love.

"Darkness needs to be total to exist. For light to exist, a single spark is enough," he said.

"The work we're doing is to multiply these sparks along the way... which we all light up together."

(Reporting by Enrique Anarte in Bogotá; Editing by Anastasia Moloney and Ellen Wulfhorst.)