The rain feels different under the same umbrella: Experiences with poverty across LGBTQ subgroups

Abstract

Population‐based survey data have demonstrated that LGBTQ communities report varying rates of economic insecurity, yet very little research directly assesses how pathways into and experiences with poverty look different among subgroups at the intersections of sexual orientation and gender identity (SOGI). This qualitative study applies constructivist grounded theory analysis to examine the lived experiences of 92 low‐income LGBTQ adults. While shared experiences were evident, the analysis highlights issues notably salient to specific SOGI subgroups. Distinct themes underscore the following experiences for each subgroup: negotiating manhood within parenting and social services (trans men); stigma in housing and shelters (trans women); seeking independence and stability through higher education (nonbinary people); ubiquitous impact of mothering on economic challenges and supports (cisgender bisexual women); staying strong for family and work (cisgender lesbian women); maintaining family connections while navigating masculinity expectations (cisgender bisexual men); and stigma and support related to HIV (cisgender gay men). This study challenges monolithic narratives among queer and trans people and underscores the need for structural interventions that reflect the diverse realities of LGBTQ lives. Findings offer implications for policy, practice, and research on economic justice.

Highlights

• Several factors related to the experience of poverty emerged as uniquely salient for each LGBTQ subgroup.

• Public policy advocates and service providers should tailor approaches to subgroups to alleviate poverty among those included under the LGBTQ label umbrella.

• Nuanced sexual orientation and gender identity data are needed for accurate information used to support economic policies and services.

INTRODUCTION

Economic wellbeing and inequities comprise a major structural factor impacting the ecology of LGBTQ people's lives (Badgett et al., 2021; McGarrity, 2014). Research across multiple disciplines has consistently demonstrated that LGBTQ people in the United States experience poverty at high rates and that economic insecurity has posed challenges to their health and overall wellbeing (Ecker et al., 2019). U.S. population data show that while the LGBTQ population experience high levels of poverty compared to the cisgender heterosexual population, it is not experienced at equal rates across the intersectional sexual and gender groups under the LGBTQ umbrella (Badgett et al., 2019; Wilson et al., 2023). In particular, transgender people and cisgender bisexual women experience the highest rates of poverty among queer people. There are also stark differences by racialized social status groups, with Indigenous, Pacific Islander, Black, and Latine LGBTQ people experiencing higher rates of poverty, food insecurity, and homelessness when compared to their White LGBTQ peers (Richard, 2023). Given that LGBTQ subgroups have different rates of poverty, it is plausible that they also experience poverty differently. For this reason, the present qualitative study intends to highlight the unique factors that may explain or complicate what is understood about these quantitative disparities across LGBTQ subgroups. While the literature has collectively examined the potentially shared and unique ecological factors affecting onset, experience, and barriers to services related to living in poverty across these adult subpopulations, many studies either focus on a singular subgroup within the LGBTQ community (e.g., trans and nonbinary people; gay and bisexual cisgender men) or collapse the subgroups under an assumed homogenous LGBTQ experience. This study aims to address this gap in knowledge through a comprehensive qualitative exploration of the contexts and characteristics of the lives of LGBTQ people across several subgroups experiencing various forms of economic instability.

LGBTQ POVERTY RATES AND SUBGROUP DIFFERENCES

Community‐based research with LGBTQ populations from the 1980s and 1990s, mostly focused on HIV interventions, noted the ways system involvement, lack of healthcare access, and poverty impacted HIV‐related and sexual health outcomes of cisgender gay and bisexual men and transgender women (Diaz et al., 2001; Harper, 2007; Mays & Cochran, 1993; Simon et al., 1995). This early research was a reminder that just as the experiences of discrimination are unique to different subgroups and intersecting identities within the LGBTQ community (e.g., transphobia, bi erasure, racism, and misogyny), levels of economic stability also varied. For instance, pockets of gay communities (namely gay and bisexual men of color) were struggling financially, despite the persistent myth of the affluent gay man characterizing all of LGBTQ people (Badgett, 2003). The next 20 years saw advancements in the availability of population data measuring sexual orientation and gender identity (SOGI), and in turn, research on questions of economic wellbeing among LGBTQ populations developed further. Such advancements in population data allowed for sample disaggregation, revealing significant sexual and gender minority economic disparities across multiple indicators, including wages, income, food insecurity, and poverty status (Badgett, 2018; Schneebaum & Badgett, 2019; Wilson et al., 2023).

ECOLOGY OF LGBTQ POVERTY

Multiple approaches to the ecological framework employed within community and prevention research (Bronfenbrenner, 1979; Kelly, 1986; Trickett et al., 1972) situate poverty among the constellation of key contextual factors affecting wellbeing and community functioning. Poverty, as a core structural factor, is similarly situated in public health frameworks, such as the Social and Structural Determinants of Health (Braveman et al., 2011; Glick et al., 2020; Commission on Social Determinants of Health, 2008). To that end, multiple studies have examined the ways individual and neighborhood poverty predict various health, mental health, and education outcomes (Caughy & O'Campo, 2006; Marcus et al., 2015; Nikulina et al., 2011; Raiford et al., 2014). Specific to LGBTQ populations, Frost et al. (2019) found a strong relationship between economic precarity and psychological distress and demonstrated that minority stress and engagement in activism are important factors explaining this relationship.

While there is a significant body of research establishing that poverty is a predictor of threats to wellbeing, the ecology of poverty and economic instability itself remains less of a focus within psychology, public health and related disciplines. An exception to the dearth of research on poverty including structural and ecological perspectives, is the scholarship on homelessness. There is an extensive body of research on the experience of homelessness from ecological perspectives, including predictors and the policy contexts of homelessness (Lee et al., 2021), the effect of homelessness on social, educational and family outcomes (Fraser et al., 2019; Nooe & Patterson, 2010; Sample & Ferguson, 2020; Samuels et al., 2021), and issues related to homelessness services (Shinn et al. 2007, 2017). This line of research demonstrates that the study and alleviation of poverty must also be grounded in an examination of the individual, relational, social, and structural factors in which it is experienced (Clark & Stubbeman, 2021; Lee et al., 2021; Nooe & Patterson, 2010; Shinn et al., 2017; Toro et al., 1991). Because the experience of homelessness is only one aspect of the experience of poverty and is not universally experienced among those living with low incomes, more research is needed on the experiences and factors associated with poverty more broadly.

Research on pathways into poverty and barriers to economic stability indicates a range of relevant factors in the general population at multiple levels of the ecological system of human experience (Phillips, 2012; Toro et al., 1991). Previous research indicates that many of the factors identified in the general population (or among predominantly cisgender heterosexual samples) are likely relevant to LGBTQ people's experiences of economic insecurity as well (Sciences, N. A. of, 2020). As noted above, studies of economic insecurity among queer and trans people have predominantly come from the homelessness and housing services literatures (Fraser et al., 2019; McCarthy & Parr, 2025). In that context, research shows a mix of factors impact LGBTQ people's experiences navigating homelessness and shelter services (Ecker, 2023). For example, in studies assessing pathways into homelessness across LGBTQ youth or adults, studies showed that both LGBTQ‐specific (e.g., discrimination, minority stress) and generalized (family economic instability, substance use, mental health issues) factors were reported by participants as relevant to the onset of homelessness.

Though a common approach to LGBTQ community research is to treat this group as one population, often collapsing the diverse experiences across gender and sexual minority status, a qualitative study reported emergent key differences in poverty‐related themes across SOGI subgroups (B. A. Robinson, 2023). For example, though many respondents reported non‐LGBTQ‐specific factors as drivers of their initial experience with homelessness, transgender participants uniquely reported transphobic rejection from families and others as the most significant driver of their initial experience with being unhoused. In non‐comparative studies, there is also evidence of subgroup‐specific factors affecting economic stability among sexual minorities. Ross and colleagues' mixed‐method study of cisgender bisexual women posited multiple theoretical mechanisms by which poverty, mental health and bisexuality may interact with one another (Ross et al., 2016). This within‐group examination of poverty among cisgender bisexual women identified several gendered and bisexual‐specific experiences (e.g., navigating biphobia within relationships with heterosexual men) potentially associated with the mechanisms behind bisexual women's high likelihood of poverty. Findings from these qualitative research studies about poverty that acknowledge the diversity of experiences among LGBTQ people help to fill the gap between knowing that SOGI subgroups have different rates of poverty and understanding the ecological context of those differences in poverty rates.

DISAGGREGATING SOGI SUBGROUP EXPERIENCES

Theoretical frameworks that explicate specific experiences at the intersection of multiple marginalized statuses further support a closer examination of economic wellbeing within and across SOGI subgroups (Collins, 2000; Taylor, 2017). For example, there are multiple frameworks developed within and outside the psychological sciences that highlight the dynamic experience of navigating multi‐layered systems of oppression and privilege, such as Triple Jeopardy Theory (Greene, 1997), Matrix of Domination (Collins, 1990), and Intersectionality (Crenshaw, 1989), which all draw from activist and public intellectual Black feminist traditions (Combahee River Collective, 1995). Collectively, these frameworks emphasize the need for contextual and situational specificity in explaining the connection between wellbeing and sociopolitical statuses of marginalized peoples. Applying this to a study of LGBTQ poverty means that while these SOGI subgroups have intertwined social and structural experiences via the impact of dominant gender ideologies and (cis)heterosexism, they nonetheless are likely to have a range of subgroup‐specific differences characterized by whether or not they are assigned female at birth, women identified, gender nonconforming (e.g., transgender, nonbinary), and monosexual (e.g., gay, lesbian) or plurisexual (e.g., bisexual, pansexual), in addition to other social statuses (e.g., race, ability).

Distinct subgroups at the intersections of sexuality and gender minority statuses experience unique risks to and supports for wellbeing across multiple domains of life relevant to poverty and economic stability. These include SOGI subgroup differences in prevalence of mental health concerns (Morrow & McGuire, 2024; Robinson, 2023), substance use and addiction (Braine, 2014; Glick et al., 2020; Goodyear et al., 2024), and internalized heterosexism and/or cisgenderism (Robinson, 2023). The disparities vary across these domains, so it is reasonable to assume that the experience of economic insecurity and factors related to pathways in and barriers out of poverty may also differ for each subgroup. Existing evidence that some subgroups of LGBTQ people report different rates of poverty reminds us that while struggling to maintain economic stability may be shared, the intersections of sexual orientation and gender identity likely uniquely frame each subgroup of LGBTQ people's experiences of poverty. While previous research indirectly suggests that core factors relevant to poverty may differ among LGBTQ people, there is very little research to date that has examined this specifically. As such, this study seeks to understand contexts and perspectives on poverty at the intersections of SOGI to unmask the factors that may be associated with disparities and unique SOGI group experiences that are often overlooked when collapsed under the broader LGBTQ umbrella.

CURRENT STUDY

At this point in the field of LGBTQ economic research, dominated by population‐based and quantitative methodologies, it is clear that sexual and gender minorities experience poverty at higher rates than heterosexual cisgender people and that there are significant differences in poverty rates within the LGBTQ community as well. However, very little research has sought to understand the nuanced contextual and ecological conditions of economic instability among LGBTQ subgroups in ways that help explain how the intersections of gender and sexuality minority statuses are relevant to how people navigate economic instability and poverty‐related services. Given the need to understand a nuanced situational experience with poverty and social services, a qualitative methodology was selected. In the current study, we aimed to answer two questions: What factors affecting the onset or alleviation of poverty were most salient in the narratives of each LGBTQ SOGI subgroup? And to what extent do these subgroup‐specific narratives indicate overlapping, as well as differential, experiences across LGBTQ subgroups?

METHODS

Study design

This study implemented a qualitative research design situated within a constructivist grounded theory approach (Charmaz, 2014; Creswell & Poth, 2024; Creswell & Clark, 2017) to develop an understanding of the process through which SOGI affect experiences with poverty. Constructivist grounded theory emphasizes the importance of systematic data analysis centered on understanding processes and developing theories about the experiences of phenomena similar to traditional grounded theory (Strauss & Corbin, 1998), but expands on the initial approaches by emphasizing an interpretivist framework and through broadening the range of what “theory” looks like at the end of analysis (Creswell & Poth, 2024). This qualitative study was part of a larger research effort that examined experiences of poverty among sexual and gender minorities across two counties in California, each selected for their representation of urban, suburban and rural geographies. This broader research effort aimed to understand the experiences of LGBTQ adults living in poverty and the community programs, services, and political actions needed to improve their lives. An application for ethics in human subjects research was submitted to and approved by the principal investigator's university Institutional Review Board.

Participants

Data came from semi‐structured in‐person and virtual interviews conducted between 2019 and 2020 with 92 adults (ages 18–70 years) who identified as a sexual and/or gender minority and reported experiencing economic hardship. Most (78%) of the sample identified as people of color. At the time of eligibility screening, about half of the sample identified as gay or lesbian (49%), three trans and nonbinary people identified as straight (3%), and the remaining as bisexual, pansexual, queer, or other (48%; often in combination with gay, lesbian, and bisexual identities). Over one‐fifth identified as transgender (23%) and about one‐eighth identified as nonbinary (14%). A third of the participants had a high school education or less (33%); over two‐thirds had an annual household income of $20,000 or less while living with two or more people (71%). Finally, over half of the sample was unstably housed in the past year (60%). See Table 1 for sample demographics by SOGI subgroup.

Table 1.

SOGI subgroup themes and demographics.

	Total Sample (N = 92)	Trans men (n = 9)	Trans women (n = 12)	Gender Nonbinary (n = 13)	Cisgender bi/pansexual/queer women (n = 13)	Cisgender lesbian women (n = 11)	Cisgender bi/pansexual/queer men (n = 8)	Cisgender gay men (n = 26)
Age range	19–70 years	23–39 years	24–59 years	23–48 years	19–51 years	19–64 years	27–70 years	25–61 years
Black/African American, Latine, Asian American, Pacific Islander, Indigenous/American Indian, and/or Multiracial	78.26%	66.67%	75.00%	69.23%	69.23%	63.64%	100.00%	88.46%
Experienced poverty as a child	72.83%	88.89%	58.33%	53.85%	92.31%	81.82%	62.50%	73.08%
Unstably housed at the time of interview	61.96%	55.56%	66.67%	53.85%	61.54%	54.55%	87.50%	61.54%
Dominant Themes	Family history of poverty Anti‐LGBTQ bias and discrimination Substance use Mental Health Issues Structural barriers to employment Limitations in and barriers to service	Parenting (for POC) Gender Identity bias in employment Racial Discrimination	Anti‐trans bias across many contexts Racial discrimination	Bias against gender nonconformity Racial discrimination	Parenting Fear of anti‐bias Racial Discrimination	Manual labor & disabilities Gender expression discrimination in employment Parenting/Caregiving	Close family relationships and having children Maintaining masculine gender presentation	HIV LGBTQ services/support

Sampling

We employed quota sampling (Bernard, 2002; Robinson, 2014) to recruit respondents with the aim of achieving age, gender and racial representation that reflects the demographic characteristics of adults living in poverty in the state from which the sample was drawn. Working with a community advisory board, the project team distributed fliers at LGBTQ and social service agencies in the two targeted counties, developed a website and social media presence and asked community leaders to also post information about the study. Interview respondents were selected from a pool of potential participants who completed an online eligibility screener. We also employed theoretical sampling in line with a constructivist grounded theory approach (Charmaz, 2014; Robinson, 2014); as interviews were conducted, team check‐ins and reviews of completed memos indicated “categories” of narratives that seemed especially relevant to developing theory about relationships between sexual orientation, gender and poverty (e.g., college students and the recurring theme of educational settings as a resource) which led to adjusting recruitment efforts in those places or indicating areas to explore further in interviews and follow‐up questionnaires.

Procedures

Once participants were identified as eligible (LGBTQ, adult, living in one of the identified counties, and experiencing major indicators of economic instability, including living with low incomes, experiencing recent housing instability or food insecurity, received or qualified for social welfare benefits), they were selected to be invited to participate based on the quota sampling frame. Once they consented and were enrolled into the study, they were asked to complete a pre‐interview questionnaire, which asked basic questions about demographics and social identities, healthcare and social services access questions, and specific scale items for mental health and substance use. Then, we conducted the in‐depth interview, which covered questions about their: (a) family and life economic history; (b) recent experiences with general financial concerns, (c) food insecurity, and housing; experiences accessing poverty‐alleviation and social welfare services; (d) use of LGBTQ‐specific services; and (e) parenting or caregiver issues. The interviews were conducted mostly in‐person but were also conducted by video upon request, and ranged from 37 min to over 3.5 h, with an average of 1.4 h. Participants provided their own chosen pseudonyms, either names or initials, to share with selected quotes from the interviews and maintain anonymity.

Data management and analysis

The audio from the interviews, which comprise the primary data source for the current study, was submitted to an external contractor for transcription, and these text files were used for the analysis. The data from the questionnaires, including demographic descriptors, were added to the transcriptions linked within the Dedoose software by the participant number. The research team used both inductive and deductive approaches to analysis. The study was designed to better understand experiences with poverty across a diverse range of sexual and gender minority respondents and to draw out subgroup differences that may explain potential factors that contribute to disparate observations in quantitative population‐based studies. In that way, the use of quota sampling encouraged some level of deductive approaches to the extent that the stratified inclusion criteria reflected a potential framework for analysis (i.e., to examine subgroup differences). However, the specific patterns in which subgroups reported what types of issues and barriers emerged in team conversations and mapping about the initial codes and themes.

After a rough segmenting of the entire dataset by interview guide domains (life history, employment experiences, food insecurity, etc.), the initial phase of analysis included inductively documenting context, events, stated conceptualization, and impacts related to their personal history of poverty and use of economic‐related services across the sample. For the current study, we focused the axial or pattern‐finding stages of the analysis on a set of exploratory questions: Is there any evidence explaining the especially high rates of poverty known to characterize transgender people and cisgender bisexual women subpopulations?; How do cisgender gay men experience poverty, in the context of being identified as a population that does not have particularly high rates of poverty?; And what other identities and backgrounds might be overlooked among cisgender gay men that complicate the dominant wealthy metropolitan narrative (e.g., race, immigration status, disability)?; In what ways do nonbinary people talk about barriers to economic security that seem different than binary identified transgender people or cisgender sexual minorities?; Are there any unique factors that emerge as particularly salient for each subgroup? In other words, how do specific forms of gendered and sexualized oppression (e.g., misogyny, anti‐trans bias, biphobia, cisheteronormativity, and enbyphobia) manifest in systemic impacts and personal experiences of poverty for each SOGI subgroup?; In what ways do race and racism intersect with SOGI subgrouping, as well as other social statuses, to inform the narratives about their experiences navigating social and economic‐related services?

We then examined the various codes and emergent themes to identify patterns across various demographic factors among the SOGI subgroups, emphasizing the groups characterized by sexual and gender identities but with attention to other social statuses, such as race, gender expression, and disability statuses. Some factors overlapped across subgroups, and others appeared uniquely significant. Quotes illustrating these themes from the data are included. We separated the groups by gender identity and expression (transgender women and men, gender nonbinary people, and cisgender women and men) then by plurisexual and monosexual orientations among cisgender participants (bi/pansexual/queer cisgender women and men, and cisgender lesbians and gays). Sexual orientation varies across transgender and nonbinary people, and differences in sexual orientation identity are likely important factors for health and wellbeing among gender minority people (James et al., 2016; Wilson & Meyer, 2021). However, given that research to date has demonstrated a strong effect of transgender status on poverty, we discuss gender minority groups across all sexual orientation identities in this study. For the cisgender groups additionally categorized by their sexual orientations, we use the identity they reported in the initial screening questionnaire to frame their experiences in relationship to others with those identities. However, through multiple interactions (screening phone call, pre‐interview questionnaire, in‐depth interview, and follow‐up survey), sexual orientation identities were not static for many respondents, and we have included the identities discussed during the in‐depth interview process when quoting them.

Researcher positionality

The first author came to this work through a combination of personal and professional investments in Black, LGBTQ, and poor communities. She identifies as a middle‐aged Black biracial bi‐national lesbian mother and grew up low‐income but did not experience homelessness. She is a first‐generation college graduate and the first to earn a doctorate in the family (as far as she knows given family dynamics). She is no longer low‐income and is a well‐paid (relative to how she lived as a child and to many in her current community) faculty member at a public university and has conducted research across the fields of sex studies, health equity, and public policy for over 20 years. Prior to her current position as a faculty member, she was a senior researcher for an LGBT‐focused public policy institute and it was from this role that she and colleagues initiated the project from which the current study is drawn. Through ongoing reflexivity, several insights about the assumptions that guided this analysis were documented.

One insight particularly relevant to the current study was that this work has been guided, in part, by queer community engagement in which the first author had observed numerous ways that lesbians, bisexual women, gay and bisexual men, and transgender people often operate in distinct community spaces. While empirical research supports the idea of distinct experiences at the intersections of SOGIS, the study was initiated with some level of assumptions about the potential significance of studying subgroup specific experiences. Given this, the first author worked to leave space for how these differences may or may not emerge in terms of poverty experience, and to consider ways that many experiences may be shared or similar.

The second author is an advanced doctoral student bringing personal experience with socioeconomic marginalization and a commitment to supporting queer, BIPOC, and low‐income communities. She/they identifies as a bi/pan/queer Southeast Asian American daughter of refugee immigrants in a low‐income household and a first‐generation college graduate. Although they were never unhoused, food insecurity and economic instability shaped their upbringing, and this was most salient in education spaces (e.g., free/reduced school meals, financial aid, work study). They also contribute to food security efforts across several cities, including mutual aid grocery hauls/deliveries and community farms/gardens. These histories guide their awareness of both socioeconomic insecurity and the role of education as a contested site that can simultaneously restrict resource access and foster community.

Her work in educational equity, research on discrimination and belonging, and efforts in community‐based food security inform her reflexive analytic stance. They bring sensitivity to how race/ethnicity, gender identity/expression, and sexual orientation shape LGBTQ individuals' experiences of poverty and housing instability. This is not without the recognition that their own relative stability in adulthood can obscure elements of surviving homelessness as shared by the participants. To mitigate this, they engaged in ongoing reflexive memoing and debriefing in the qualitative coding process. A central focus of her approach for this analysis is resisting the erasure of subgroup differences through aggregation. This approach is informed by their familiarity with how the economic disparities and diverse experiences within Asian American ethnic communities are often masked by a combination of racialized stereotypes (e.g., Model Minority Myth) and aggregation under a broader pan‐ethnic group identity. Her intention throughout analysis was to honor the specificity and complexity of participants' narratives without reinforcing stereotypes or imposing interpretations rooted in her own biases and privileges.

FINDINGS

We sought to answer questions about whether there are particularly notable factors discussed or experienced by each LGBTQ subgroup, and whether these prominent themes indicate unique factors affecting experiences with poverty for each subgroup, as well as themes that may connect across some subgroups. In response to these research questions, the analyses revealed distinct themes that characterize the experiences and contexts of living with a low income for each of the LGBTQ subgroups. We emphasize that these themes are not intended to essentialize or homogenize the experiences of any subgroup and instead meant to diversify and refine what we know about LGBTQ experiences of poverty. The themes reflect broad patterns within this two‐county sample while recognizing that substantial variation exists within each group. Our interpretations are guided by an intersectional stance that acknowledges that individuals' experiences at their multiple social positions may align with, diverge from, or complicate the themes identified here. As such, the themes illustrate common dynamics observed among participants, but they do not suggest that all members of any subgroup share the same experiences or that the dynamics are exclusive to the subgroup. The themes titled for each subgroup are: “Negotiating Manhood within Parenting and Social Services”; “Navigating Safety Concerns across Housing Contexts”; “Seeking Independence and Stability through Higher Education”; “Mothering Through it All”; “Struggling to Stay Strong for Family and Work”; “Keeping Family Close at a Cost”; and “Stigma and Supports in the Context of HIV.” We discuss the themes below as notably prevalent experiences for each subgroup with exemplar quotes to illustrate the theme. Table 1 summarizes the dominant themes by LGBTQ subgroups. For every quote, we provide some demographic and social context by listing the participants' chosen pseudonym (most participants provided names while a few provided initials for their chosen pseudonyms), their age, racial identification, and SOGI subgroup.

Negotiating manhood within parenting and social services ‐ transgender men

A significant theme emerging from the interviews with men in this study who were assigned female at birth (n = 9; herein referred to as transgender or trans men) was parenting. One third of the trans men in our sample were parents, all of whom were men of color. This theme particularly stood out during the analysis process focused on patterns among the subgroups of trans participants in that parenting was discussed mostly among trans men and not other transgender or gender minority subgroups across sexual orientation. Several issues related to parenting were raised, including the lack of support for single parents, communications about their gender transition to their children, and interactions with child protective services.

I transitioned in the middle of [neighborhood redacted] in gang territory. So the first 2 years of my transition, they kicked my ass every day, walking out my front door. I was always defending my life, defending my trans‐ness, defending my child because, you know, I birthed him. So, that was a different relationship between my son and me. And so trying to raise him as a man, and becoming a man at the same time, was interesting.

(Alex, 39, Black/African American, pansexual trans man)

I had my kids taken for 2 years because I was transgender… They took my youngest child away and gave her to my ex [the child's biological father] because he had a lot of family there, and … he would tell a story, and he would tell all of his friends, and they'd back him up, so it didn't matter if it was true or not. I had nobody there, [sigh] they put them in ultra‐religious households during foster care. Like my kids had always been with me up until that point, and then they put them in like 16 schools in 2 years and told me I was not a protective parent because I was transgender.

(Am, 33, biracial or multiracial American Indian, pansexual trans man).

It's notable that while not directly discussing race, both Alex and Am are speaking to experiences as trans men parents within a highly racialized system in the U.S., particularly, the disproportional surveillance of Black and American Indian families via child welfare systems. Regarding access to social services, respondents reported struggling to maintain the wellbeing of their children while navigating financial and housing insecurity.

They never have a bed, or they never have a place for him and I [to] stay. So, it's just—it's just tough… They have places for women and children. And they're like, “Well, technically, you're a chick.” And I'm like, “I'm not. Legally, I'm male.” Like, even on my birth certificate and everything. And, so, they won't put me in that program, you know, even for the benefit of my son. So, it's just tough. They don't have programs for men or anybody in the community with children. And it just sucks.

(Miles, 26, Latine, pansexual trans man)

As seen in this quote from Miles and the narratives of Am and Alex, they discussed this difficulty specifically in the context of being men with children who were trying to access a system of social services structured around women and children.

Navigating safety concerns across housing contexts ‐ transgender women

Among women in our study who were assigned male at birth (n = 12; herein referred to as transgender or trans women), anti‐trans prejudice dominated their life narratives across all settings. However, the context of finding housing and shelter stood out as especially salient among trans women compared to all other subgroups emphasizing the distinctly harmful experiences of transmisogyny in services for those experiencing homelessness. As an indicator of the significance of this factor, several trans women participants were unstably housed at the time of the interview. Further, regardless of housing status, many trans women in the study described negative experiences with shelters, programs for those experiencing homelessness, and in other housing contexts.

So I had to go to the winter shelters. And these places are really horrible. They're not LGBT friendly at all. Like, the staff there are really nice, but the people that, you know, you're with are very sketchy. A lot of them are, people that are, just getting out of jail or something, so it's, you're in here with a bunch of people that are just getting out of jail for violent shit and different crimes and stuff. And it was not a pleasant experience. Like, it was deep in [neighborhood redacted].

(Camila, 24, Latine, bisexual trans woman)

In one of these cases described below, C. described a sexual assault and the failure of shelter staff to protect her. While transmisogyny captures the intersecting oppression of trans people and women, the following participant also illustrated the additional layers of racism in their experiences of violence both personally and vicariously.

She came into my bed. I woke up to her touching me. And I'm telling her to get off, but I didn't wanna like push her, or hit her, or anything. ‘Cause you could get kicked out. So I'm just telling her to get off me, please get off me, get off me. And she's not getting off and my—the youth advocate comes in. He sees it happen. And he tells her to get off and she gets off. And he separates us and he's like, “Are you OK?” And he talks to me. And he calls the residential manager, who's a racist. These people are bad people. I had it kind of bad because they said like, you know, “Oh, you—you're like Taliban.” Stuff you would never believe. But they hated transgender women. They hated transfemmes. And they, they hated Middle Eastern people. It was worse for Black people there.

(C., 29, Middle Eastern/North African, trans nonbinary femme and other sexuality)

Even outside the context of public shelters for those experiencing homelessness, the analyses revealed stigmatizing experiences in the search for housing among transgender women. Participants reported experiences of harassment and bias in the housing market as well, including renting and home ownership. For example, the following participant described an experience of deliberate misgendering in the process of searching for a rental.

I applied for a rental apartment, and they kept referring me to “he”—as a “he,” when the two women were talking back and forth about me, they kept saying “He, he,” and I kept correcting them. I corrected them twice. The second time, she said, “I know it's important to you, but I'm the one telling the story.”

(Me, 57, White, lesbian trans woman)

As was seen by participants across all LGBTQ subgroups, transgender women's experiences of systemic and interpersonal prejudice were discussed not only in terms of gender and sexuality, but also race. What was especially unique in the narratives of transgender women, particularly trans women of color, was the myriad ways that seeking shelter and housing came at the cost of being subjected to sexual, physical, and emotional violence.

Seeking independence and stability through higher education ‐ gender nonbinary people

For the subgroup of respondents whose gender identity at the time of the interview was either gender nonbinary, genderqueer, or “other” (n = 13), education was consistently an important factor that shaped their experiences of economic instability. Most of the gender nonbinary participants (77%) had a bachelor's degree at the time of the study and it was the only SOGI subgroup with a majority who had pursued higher education. Gender nonbinary participants also make up 63% of this study's college‐graduated subsample. For about half of the overall study sample, the highest level of education attained was a high school degree. The context of education was relevant for some of the nonbinary participants when they discussed struggling to eat or find housing while in college, which, for some, was not a new experience, as they had also reported experiencing poverty at some point during childhood. For other gender nonbinary participants, the context of higher education served as a safer space for exploring and coming into their gender identities. Participants talked about campus life as an opportunity to distance themselves from family for a range of reasons, primarily to exercise independence and autonomy in their adulthood. Some participants had families who were not supportive of their gender identity and expression, either creating a hostile home environment or kicking the person out of the home. Few participants had a different dynamic in which the family was also struggling financially and relied on the participant for economic support. The following participant talked about how college helped them identify on‐campus resources and access additional funds through financial aid, and also how being on‐campus was a way to avoid pressures to financially support their family later on.

And so I was struggling while I was in college, and then when I came—when I graduated from college, I knew I wasn't gonna be getting that financial aid money anymore obviously. So I just cut off my parents by like turning off the phone they gave me, and then getting my own phone and phone plan or whatever and just cutting all contact with them. Then so that way they can't be taking my money, and yeah. So I'm living here in [neighborhood redacted]. I've been doing short‐term jobs, so it was really hard to make ends meet. They're always like paying low, and it's expensive here, and so I always do the math for my bills and my bills come out to, like, $1000 or, like, $1200 sometimes. Especially since, like, my loan payments just kicked in, so I had to start paying that. So I had to pay, like, over $1000 every month for bills, but I only make $600 a month.

(Maya, 23, Latine, queer, and other gender identity)

Another participant discussed the pressures of feeling like they needed to use their opportunities in education and funding for college to help support their family. While both Maya and Cori recognized the familial obligation to share their money from college, they both responded to this pressure differently. Maya's fear of resource scarcity led them to cut ties with their parents, and Cori's approach was to stay in touch and share financial aid with their family

And I did that for 3 years, giving all my financial aid to my mom. And I was getting like $5000 grants and stuff. And I would use maybe a grand for my books and stuff, maybe some clothes. But the rest was to my mom. She used it to pay bills, buy food, you know, get—get the kids clothes for—for, um, when you start—when they're starting school. You know, all of that stuff, and I just thought this is what you do. Um, when you grow up not having much, at least for me, when I grew up not having much, I felt any money that I was blessed with was for everyone.

(Cori, 48, Black/African American, gay or lesbian non‐binary person)

In addition to discussing the college setting as a place where they received financial support that was redirected towards supporting the basic needs of themselves and/or their family, it was also described as a context for other forms of support and stability beyond monetary funding. A few participants in this subgroup described developing their support systems in the education system and relying on these support networks even outside of the college setting. For example, a few of the gender nonbinary respondents reported living with their former professors, being supported by their partners' graduate school stipends, or couch surfing with friends they made in college. The transition out of college after graduating sometimes led to instability and uncertainty regarding income and housing, particularly for a participant who was working in residence life on‐campus and received free housing and meals plans while in college due to existing university safety‐net programs.

Yeah. So, last April I was living in the dorm still and I was working in the dorms. I worked for housing and residence life in exchange for food and rent. Shelter, basically. I was an RA, basically… That was kinda all the money I had. Then, my partner had just started their new job where they're still making less than the poverty level [laughter]. But before that, they had been on and off employed and not employed at all. So, yeah. Money's been tight [laughter]… So, in the past year, um, I kind of knew that I was going—that after the summer semester of school—it's like June of last year—I was gonna move in with my partner. And they had the house that they've been renting for a while. Before, it was their brother and their mom were also renting, and now it's just us. So, I knew I was gonna—like, I had some place to go, after, basically, my job in the dorm ended.

(A., 27, Biracial/Multiracial, queer nonbinary)

The context of college and university life stood out clearly as a unique feature of the narratives of nonbinary interview respondents in ways that were rarely seen among other subgroups. This finding needs to be framed by the demographics of this SOGI subgroup, and they were mostly young adults. As such, it is not particularly surprising that a subsample comprised mostly of adults under 30 years old would highlight college as an important context and given that nonbinary identities are also more common among younger populations (Wilson & Meyer, 2021); yet, this stands as uniquely salient in relation to all other subgroups, including binary‐identified younger respondents who typically did not discuss educational settings.

Mothering through it all ‐ cisgender bisexual women

Navigating motherhood for cisgender bisexual and other plurisexual‐identified (e.g., pansexual, queer) women (n = 12) was a dominant theme in their experiences of economic instability and poverty. A majority of this subgroup of participants were parents (n = 10) and had various caretaking roles and custody arrangements. More than half of cisgender bisexual women who were parents described caretaking full‐time, whereas the others either did not have custody or had partial‐custody of their children. Those who were single mothers with little or no social support experienced especially difficult situations to maintain stability while juggling the many demands of parenthood alone, including but not limited to caretaking with a single income and seeking or sustaining successful employment.

Some mothers described having children at a young age, which led to leaving high school or college earlier than they had hoped. One participant (Carissa, 51, White, cisgender bisexual woman) described becoming pregnant when she was 15 years old and having five children with a male partner who was abusive and cycling in and out of prison. She had a difficult time maintaining custody of all of her children because of mental health issues and substance use. Regarding barriers getting out of poverty through maintaining employment, another participant reported needing to bring her children to work as a security guard on a college campus because she did not have childcare (Natalie, 30, Black, Mexican, and Indian, cisgender bisexual woman).

When asked about what could help address the needs of people like her, who are cisgender bisexual women, Natalie talked about the need for services focused on parents in general and the ways having children can be a barrier to services but also a source of motivation for getting help.

I would definitely address services for parents who are going through CPS [Child Protective Services], definitely for more residential programs for parents with children. Not just women with children, because there are a lot of men out there trying to get the kids, too. And a lot of the rehabs and homes that they have out here are just for, like, sober livings, or for people who have no kids. And the majority of the people—I mean, let's be real with it. If you don't have kids, a lot of times, you don't really wanna get sober. What the fuck for? You know, you don't got nobody attached to you, but if you've got these children that you're trying to get back, or you're trying to become a better person for.

(Natalie)

Given the many barriers to employment, challenges with partners (typically cis men partners), and struggles with mental health, one cisgender bisexual woman respondent reflected on a difficult decision many other parents have had to make in the interest of their children.

I have custody of him. I haven't lost custody, but I just made the wise decision to say, “Hey, he deserves much better than what I'm giving him,” you know? So I did give him to—‘cause my—my dad, he's pretty wealthy, so I did give him to my father, and he's got everything and more that he needs there. And—but prior to that, man, you know, he faced a lot of challenges with me. Everything [participant discussed drug use, mental health issues and abusive relationship with a partner in interview] that I went through, he went through.

(Nichole, 26, Black and Latine biracial, cisgender bisexual woman)

In addition to having children, the broader family context was also raised by a few cisgender bisexual women as a factor affecting their stability. Biphobia and anti‐bisexual bias were discussed in the context of navigating relationships and their families.

So we were not working, and my dad didn't like that at all. Um, my dad had a talk with him, explained to him what his expectations were. We were payin' him rent. Um, then my parents found out about him being, like, bisexual and stuff. They don't know about me. Um, and my dad didn't agree with it whatsoever. So he ended up kickin' us out. He said that the kids were allowed to stay there, but we were not allowed to stay there. And ever since then, it's been really hard.

(Mary, 33, Latine, cisgender bisexual woman)

Taking these elements of the narratives together, the theme of managing additional caretaking responsibilities and experiencing biphobia (sometimes from family members) while mothering was central to the ways cisgender bisexual women must navigate poverty.

Struggling to stay strong for family and work ‐ cisgender lesbian women

Like cisgender bisexual women and trans men, being a parent was a highly salient factor affecting the process of navigating housing, jobs, and food insecurity among cisgender women who identified as lesbian (n = 12). Seven cisgender lesbian women in the study had children, a few of whom were parenting children their partners had prior to their relationship. Participants in this group reported becoming parents in many ways, such as adopting children with their partner, partnering or marrying someone who was already a parent (i.e., step‐parenthood), or giving birth to children. Most parents had custody or split custody of their children, and many had children who were older than 18 years at the time of the interview.

Cisgender lesbian narratives about the saliency of parenting were complicated, weaving ways their children were a significant factor in struggles to provide support but also a factor in whether they received support once the children had grown. For example, Kathrine talked about the struggles of caring for her children when they were young.

My children went into foster care because I had stopped utilizing drugs. I had money that was earmarked for me to move from a one‐bedroom apartment to a three‐bedroom apartment. And the people with whom I was involved, who were doing drugs, told the drug dealers that I was the one who ordered the drugs, and it was in the amount that my check was to move into my new apartment. And they called children services and had my children taken from me and so on, but, I did a lot of—I did the steps, went through the motions, the things they asked me to do, and it was not good enough for the social workers and so on, but when I got a—I spent some time in jail, in prison.

(Kathrine, 62, White, cisgender lesbian woman)

In the interview, she later discussed denied assistance for housing and support by her now adult biological daughter because she was in a same‐sex relationship. For two Black cisgender queer women, the intersections of anti‐Blackness and queerness were both salient in their experience of discrimination. One particular experience that stands out is that of a woman of Caribbean descent whose LGBT‐based discrimination was tied closely with her Blackness and partnership with a woman. Her mother previously supported her when she had her child, but then refused to help care for them when the participant married her wife. She also reported her mother sought custody of her children and how her experiences with racism and anti‐LGBTQ bias, framed in terms of people's assumptions of her being a lesbian, affected that process.

Prior to everything, I funded my own attorney. And it was a White guy… He expressed to me that he wanted me to pay him, upfront, $1400 to help me with preparations to go to court and help me get my kids back. But, when he found out that I was in a lesbian relationship and that we were Black and from [city redacted] or whatever—bein' that we—our skin color says that we're Black, he kinda like turned away from tryin' to help me and told me that I was Black and from [city redacted], and did I think I was gonna get any help? Or did I think I was gonna get any justice for what happened? And I asked him, I said, “Well, what do you mean by that?” And he pretty much never answered the question and shunned it off, and then he removed himself from my case. So, in regard to legal matters, I don't trust anybody to help me do anything when it comes to legal things. I really just tried to step out and find somebody to help me now.

(M., 32, Black/African American, cisgender bisexual woman)

In addition to the significance of being a parent, our analyses of this subgroup's narratives revealed that having a disability or receiving disability benefits was a relatively common experience among cisgender lesbian women. The type of disabilities this subgroup discussed included various chronic illnesses (autoimmune disorders, seizures), mental illness diagnoses (bipolar, anxiety), and physical injuries (broken legs, injured hands). The experience of disability or injury was not limited to age and affected both younger and older lesbians. Most cisgender lesbians reported receiving disability benefits, and some directly connected the onset of their disability or the specific challenge posed by the disability to the type of work they did. That is, several of the lesbian‐identified cisgender women, particularly younger cisgender women who were employed, had previously worked in physical labor settings, such as yard work, mechanics, and “odd jobs.” We connect this issue to the overarching theme of “Staying Strong” because physical labor jobs were not discussed much among other SOGI subgroups, particularly among the women (both trans and cisgender) in the study.

All cisgender lesbian women described experiencing discrimination throughout their lives and in multiple types of settings. In particular, cisgender lesbian or gay women who identified as masculine in terms of their gender expression reported experiences with discrimination while seeking poverty‐alleviation related services.

I would think the only one would be the church [regarding services where she experienced anti‐LGBTQ bias]. I only go pick up the food boxes, ‘cause we don't wanna make them uncomfortable, I guess. I don't explain my sexual orientation, ‘cause I don't want it to affect me going there.

(Jennifer, 30, White, cisgender lesbian woman)

In this way, the narratives of cisgender lesbian respondents reflected elements of the parenting experiences of cisgender bisexual women as well as the challenges with gender conformity policing discussed among transgender and nonbinary respondents. Yet, the domain of labor and physically demanding work was as a unique feature of the narratives of lesbian women in the study, some of whom also had a disability.

Keeping family close at a cost ‐ cisgender bisexual men

When we examined the narratives of the experiences of cisgender bisexual men in the study (n = 8), a collection of codes revealed one theme that stood out as unique to this subgroup, particularly in relationship to other cisgender men: the central role of family in their day‐to‐day lives. While parenting specifically was not especially salient, biological family or families of origin were noted as a significant part of cisgender bisexual men's social and economic context, with regard to their own children, parents, or other family members. While participants mentioned friends and family as essential to their support networks, family relationships were often described in complicated ways. Families were salient features of cisgender bisexual men's narratives—as supportive, as unsafe, and often a mix of both. All participants in this subgroup named several ways that this familial support system had affected their navigation of poverty.

This support took several forms, including maintaining close relationships with family who offered them food, monetary support, or housing. For example, Phoebe talked about their reliance on family and others for at least housing as a foundation for some sense of security.

I'm 28, so I've stayed with friends. I've stayed with family. I've stayed with drag kids. I've stayed—I've stayed a lot of different places. Until, like, the age of 18, I didn't have to stay outside in a park or under a car or nothing like that, but it's always an issue of, you know, being able to have—bring food or bring the financial in, so I don't have to worry about housing or having somewhere new to stay.

(Phoebe, 28, Latine, cisgender bisexual man)

An undocumented respondent who talked about being “closeted” in terms of his sexuality with family, noted he still received some money from them for help. He also noted that he also often turned to friends for help rather than seeking formal services because of his U.S. citizenship status.

Friends more than anything [regarding his primary source of support] because, as illegal, as undocumented, I don't wanna get services from the community because sometimes I think—I feel, I'm not sure, I may not qualify.

(E., 54, Latine, cisgender bisexual man)

Though not many cisgender bisexual men reported having children, a higher proportion of them were parents compared to cisgender gay men. One of the fathers who identified as a cisgender bisexual man described the social support systems that he has in place, including a close relationship with his son. He also talked about the ways this supported his mental health.

I think my mental health is affected by, well, of course, the finances, my living situation. That's why I keep—you can call it support groups, things like that—socializing with my son. Yeah, you want to stay upbeat about it because it—it's very trying. It's very trying, you know.

(Vincent, 70, Black/African American, cisgender bisexual man)

This theme around familial connections is notably distinct from the other subgroups' themes in that it was not presented as a barrier to stability or a factor exacerbating poverty. However, there is some evidence in their narratives that this closeness to family came with some emotional costs connected to suppressing their sexuality or challenges in managing strained relationships around their sexuality. For many bisexual men in the study, code‐switching by limiting their queerness or gender expressions outside of traditional masculinity was described as necessary in order to secure housing with family. Phoebe described the necessary practice of code‐switching by limiting their behaviors that other people perceive to be queer‐coded in order to assimilate to the cisheteronormative comfort of people who have the power to secure their housing. Similarly, Sal described the history of family rejection and the need to negotiate with expectations of masculinity to avoid being kicked out.

Mm‐hmm. I would be homeless without them. Like, without my family. It's very machismo. It's very—you have to be a certain way. You can't have any feminine qualities. You can't even be empathetic. You have—you can't even feel your own emotions. And, that's how my dad was and is a little bit. I feel like he's only now kind of changing and opening up. But, my mom, too. Like, she's part of that culture, and she was very upset when I came out, and I didn't come out until I did because I felt there was a chance I could be kicked outta my home.

(Sal, 30, Latine, cisgender bisexual man)

Participants were conscious of forms of expression that were perceived as queer and/or gender nonconforming, such as a “gay voice,” which had to be toned down in culturally conservative contexts at home and also in employment settings. This experience of managing masculinity heavily overlaps with cisgender gay men, but cisgender bisexual men spoke more about choosing to conform to gender expectations (i.e., code‐switching). Matthew described how his decision to no longer wear cosmetics placed him on a level playing field when applying for jobs.

‘Cause I used to, like, wear, like, makeup and nail polish or crazy hair and stuff. So, like, had I presented like that, I think I would've encountered—I'd at least encounter a lot more, like, um, like, negative looks or just, like, presumptions about me. But, um, in my current state, I just felt like I was just another applicant to them.

(Matthew, 28, Latine, cisgender pansexual man)

Stigma and supports in the context of HIV ‐ cisgender gay men

Among the men in the study who were cisgender and gay identified (n = 26), the central role of HIV was particularly and uniquely salient. While about a third of the overall sample mentioned HIV in their interviews, half of those participants were cisgender gay men (n = 15). HIV, as a core health issue impacting their community and personal lives, was discussed in terms of the challenges created when navigating economic struggles and opportunities in terms of services available. Though other subgroups had participants who talked about HIV, including two trans women and a cisgender lesbian who reported living with HIV themselves, cisgender gay men discussed HIV more consistently in the context of it being a public health issue and in terms of the types of HIV services available throughout many narratives. Many of the HIV services described were located within larger LGBTQ service centers that also provided economic support programs.

Participants had mixed accounts about their experiences with services for HIV treatment and prevention. Some cisgender gay participants described their experiences living with HIV (n = 8). For some participants living with HIV, they described their pathway to poverty in relation to HIV, as they reported having less energy, becoming ill, and/or living in seclusion which made it difficult to find work. Two participants in their 50's (St, 51, White/European, cisgender gay man; Jeff, 53, American Indian, cisgender gay man), talked about the ways HIV negatively affected their daily functioning and abilities to work.

In the context of reporting these challenges in managing a chronic health condition and its impact on employment, many described having access to services through healthcare, such as disability pay, community support groups, health clinics, food banks, and housing.

And right now, I am—I am in the PrEP service. So, I am taking, Truvada, which prevents… It's a daily pill, you can take it at night or in the morning, but every 24 h is enough to, for example, if you have contact with another—a person that has HIV—and you come into contact with the virus, so it's a 99 percent probability that you won't get it.

(Mu, 28, Latine, cisgender gay man; text translated from Spanish to English)

I was going to that center for meetings mostly. Like meetings for people living with HIV. How to live with HIV. How to live more healthy. So that was—that's what I was going there for meetings like that… It's been, what is being good is to live—to have a better life living, you know, with—with HIV. How to live better. Yeah. It's been helping, you know, to—to make better decisions when it's like about eating. ‘Cause we have to eat like more healthy, you know, and that is something that's kinda hard, to eat more healthy,’ cause the healthier food cost more.

(Os, 49, Latine, cisgender gay man)

I think the ones that gear to HIV positive people are—better served. I think they—they—they know that we need to eat healthy, so they, they get more healthy foods.

(Carlos, 61, Latine, cisgender gay man)

Overall, HIV‐related service settings were often LGBTQ‐friendly and described by many cisgender gay men as a space for affirming care and also an opportunity for volunteering service or employment. Nonetheless, cisgender gay men also reported experiences of bias when trying to find housing, as well as prejudice from neighbors and landlords in the places where they lived.

It's difficult because sometimes, like, when I was looking for a place, I was very aware if I was coming off gay or straight. The last place I moved into, I couldn't have people come visit me. I was renting a room, and the guy went as far as to say I couldn't have men come visit me. And I'm not talking about people that I'm foolin' around with, just people friends come over. And so he made such a big deal. That's not the only time it's happened. I moved somewhere, I was renting a room, and the guy told me I couldn't have male company. And I'm like, “Wow.” That's my moment because I can't imagine him saying that if he rented from—to a straight guy. I don't think he would have said, “You can't have any women over here or you can't—.” I don't think he would have.

(Tom, 44, Black, cisgender gay man)

I think some people feel uncomfortable, you know, like dealing with gay people in general. It's like, “Oh, my God,” you know, like, “They're gonna make a pass at me,” or something like that, you know. It's like—that's my last concern.

(Jose, 58, White, cisgender gay man)

Though these experiences with housing were not directly related to HIV, they reflect a related form of stigma revolving around others' biases against male‐to‐male or gay sexuality. This anti‐gay stigma was cited as a major barrier to maintaining housing, a core form of economic stability.

DISCUSSION

The aim of this study was to explore the shared and unique factors associated with living in poverty among subgroups of sexual and gender minority groups within LGBTQ communities. Many indicators of poverty (housing instability, food insecurity, unemployment) and factors leading to poverty (childhood poverty, mental health concerns, and substance use issues) were shared to some degree across all SOGI subgroups and not presented here (see Wilson et al., 2020, for a review of additional themes). However, our analyses for the current study bring attention to the specific contexts that provide nuance to existing understandings of differences in poverty rates among these LGBTQ subgroups.

Among gender minority subgroups across sexual orientation identities, distinct themes included the significance of parenting within a social services industry that centers cisgender women (trans men), persistent transmisogyny in efforts to find safe shelter and housing (trans women), and the higher education context as a place of refuge and resources (nonbinary people). Among sexual minority cisgender women, the contexts of parenting and family caretaking were relevant among both cisgender lesbian and bisexual women, in which lesbians often discussed roles as birth mothers, step‐parents, and caregivers to elders, and cisgender bisexual women often discussed their roles as mothers in previous or current relationships with cisgender men. Lesbian and bisexual women ultimately reported distinct experiences in their difficulty navigating socioeconomic instability in the types of bias they described, such as biphobia from family members affecting bisexual women's housing security and gender policing from employers affecting lesbian women's financial security. Finally, gay and bisexual men's experiences of poverty exhibited divergent themes. Bisexual men emphasized the tension resulting from staying close to and/or receiving care from biological families and the challenges they faced in terms of expectations to perform traditional masculinity roles. Cisgender gay men were the subgroup in which most mentioned the role of having HIV or accessing HIV treatment or prevention services as a context and resource for navigating poverty.

Family factors

Several of the LGBTQ subgroups in this study highlighted the myriad ways the family context, biological, legal, and/or chosen, was relevant to how economic instability was navigated. The significance of family is unsurprising as it is a core part of the social ecology and an understood component of one of the multiple levels of factors affecting poverty (Mayberry et al., 2014; Sameti et al., 2012). However, one contribution of this study is explicating how family responsibilities and conflict among LGBTQ people affect economic stability specifically. For example, cisgender bisexual men talked about family, less so in terms of their roles as parents, and more so in terms of their desires to receive financial help and care from their families of origin (parents, siblings, etc.). The challenges to retaining these connections are reflected in previous research on parental rejection and experienced anti‐homosexual bias reported for gay and bisexual men (Anders et al., 2023; Ryan et al., 2009; Wilson et al., 2010). These findings extend this previous work by connecting the social factors of LGBTQ family tensions to the context of navigating economic insecurity.

The specific ways that family mattered for the SOGI subgroups assessed in this study have varying implications for how we understand pathways into poverty and barriers out of economic instability. For example, it is well understood from prior research and federal economic surveillance data that having children or raising children, particularly among those assigned female at birth, is a significant risk factor for experiencing poverty (Pew Research Center, 2013; Wilson & Bouton, 2024). Essentially, having more people to care for, particularly minors who are dependent upon adults in their lives, produces a difficult cycle of economic and parenting challenges. These findings from existing research, indicating that managing economic survival with children is simply harder than without children, were reflected primarily in the experiences of trans men, cisgender bisexual women, and cisgender lesbians in this study. While previous survey research has identified that having children was a driving factor in predicting life in poverty for cisgender bisexual women and to some extent also for lesbian women (Wilson & Bouton, 2024), most research has not carefully examined how family matters in navigating poverty among LGBTQ people and how that may look different across subgroups at the intersections of sexual and gender identities. These findings indicate a need to further understand the parenting experience of transgender men in particular, and expanding our understanding of the structural, psychological, and interpersonal factors affecting the ways the parental role intersects with trans masculine experiences.

A specific facet of the parenting experience while living in poverty that was raised across these three groups was the need to navigate structural institutions, namely child welfare and protective services, and family court settings. In particular, several LGBTQ subgroups in this study highlighted evidence of stigma and discrimination within family services settings and systems targeting LGBTQ parents. While very little previous research has focused on whether LGBTQ people experience disproportionate surveillance of family services and challenges within family government systems (Polikoff, 2018), the disproportionate level of interactions with child protective services among those experiencing poverty and women of color is well documented (Dettlaff et al., 2021; Roberts, 2002). Notably, many, though not all, of the participants who discussed interactions with the child welfare system were also people of color. As such, this finding regarding the ways LGBTQ people reported shared challenges while navigating social services related to child welfare and related to child custody, particularly among those who are assigned female at birth and identify as people of color, highlights a needed area for future research that attends to the intersectional nature of the unique vulnerabilities for queer parents of color.

Discrimination in public accommodations and social services

Challenges to the effectiveness of and access to poverty‐alleviation services are well documented in the scholarship on poverty‐related programs in the general population (Soffer et al., 2010; Suiter, 2017). Experiences within public programs, services, and housing were also a central theme across the respondents in this queer‐focused study. When looking across all of the SOGI subgroups, their narratives indicated that LGBTQ‐related discrimination in public spaces and services was commonly discussed among gender minority (transgender and gender nonbinary) participants, as well as gender‐nonconforming cisgender lesbians, and among many cisgender gay men. The impact of bias against gender nonconformity is well documented in previous research (Anderson, 2020; DiGuiseppi et al., 2022; Gordon & Meyer, 2007; Levitt et al., 2012). For example, (Anderson, 2020) examines narratives of discrimination among cisgender and transgender LGBQ adults and finds that gender expression and degrees of gender conformity were central to reports of negative experiences across many settings. They also identified gender expression‐related discrimination in two domains relevant to producing or reproducing poverty, housing, and employment. Further, a previous study focused on the predictors of poverty among sexual minority women using population‐based data supports the findings of many qualitative studies showing that gender nonconformity is associated with poverty among some LGBTQ subgroups (Wilson et al., 2025).

One particularly notable aspect of the themes of discrimination in this sample was the rarity with which a group with one of the highest poverty rates among all sexual and gender minority subgroups, cisgender bisexual women, reported discrimination related to their sexual orientation outside of interpersonal settings, such as public domains like housing and employment. That is, cisgender bisexual women respondents highlighted anti‐bisexual bias as central to challenges in navigating intimate relationships and within their families, but did not report anti‐bisexual bias in housing, employment, or social services settings. This may seem surprising given how consistently previous research has documented experiences of biphobia (Arnett et al., 2019; Mulick & Wright, 2002; Velasco et al., 2024) and its mental health effects (Bostwick, 2012; Persson & Pfaus, 2015; Schick & Dodge, 2012) among bisexual men and women. Yet, previous research tends to identify biphobia in interpersonal (Gutekunst & Liang, 2023; E. Todd et al., 2016) or community contexts (e.g., interacting with lesbian biphobia), without an analysis of whether these findings generalize to other settings, such as public accommodations and services. As such, there is a need for research that examines the role sexual orientation‐related discrimination plays in negative outcomes among LGBTQ people in ways that are attentive to the socioecological context. There is evidence that, while biphobia and anti‐bisexual bias are significant factors in the mental health outcomes of bisexual women, these forms of stigma and prejudice may not be drivers explaining economic disparities among cisgender bisexual women (Wilson et al., 2025). More research is needed that grounds the claim about factors causing or driving economic disparities among subgroups of LGBTQ people with empirical evidence established in the specific context of employment, housing, and socioeconomic services. While a minority stress mechanism is likely at play for many LGBTQ people (i.e., poverty and economic stability options are affected by the mental health effects of discrimination), it is not the only pathway, and the findings of this study indicate the relevance of various mechanisms likely differ across SOGI subgroups.

LIMITATIONS

This study is among the few to identify factors affecting economic insecurity with attention to similarities and differences across SOGI subgroups. Yet, there are limitations to the design that affect the claims that can be made in response to the core research questions. One issue is that while this is a relatively large qualitative dataset of interviews with LGBTQ people focused on their experiences with economic instability, the actual sample sizes for each subgroup are not especially large and they vary in important demographic characteristics, such as age and racial diversity. As such, some of the themes identified here as particularly salient for each LGBTQ subgroup may actually be a function of differences in age or other forms of diversity among the subgroups. Further, this may have impacted our perception of saturation and adequacy of theoretical sampling.

For example, the subset of cisgender bisexual men in the study all identified as people of color and this was not the case for any of the other subgroups. Therefore, the saliency of the theme describing concerns about staying close to their families could be just as much a function of the importance of familial ties among Latino, Black, and American Indian bisexual men as much as or more so than explained by the experiences of cisgender bisexual men in general. While these demographic differences between the subgroups present some challenges for making claims about the unique themes being tied to identification with the SOGI subgroups themselves, the dominance of certain demographic characteristics may also reflect variability of racial characteristics across LGBTQ subgroups who experience poverty, or more broadly. Bisexual men, particularly men of color, experience poverty had higher rates than White gay and bisexual men (Wilson et al., 2023), and therefore the racial demographics of the bisexual cis men in this study may reflect, rather than negate, an intersectional reality of the range of experiences among bisexual men living with low incomes. Moreover, the aim of the application of constructivist grounded theory methodology for this study was to illuminate relationships between sexual orientation, gender identity, and other social statuses and experiences with poverty in various settings of the ecology and was not intended to legitimize a generalizable set of statements about each subgroup.

CONCLUSIONS

Community psychology as a field has consistently identified economic wellbeing and poverty as a significant feature of the human ecology, but has focused less on studying the experience of poverty itself (see, e.g., Agha et al., 2024; Richard, 2023; Toro et al., 1991), for exceptions in terms of the study of homelessness. This study aimed to address that gap through a focus on a population experiencing high rates of economic disparities, LGBTQ people. Further, drawing from Black feminist frameworks indicating the importance of looking at the complexities of the ways systems produce varied negative outcomes across subpopulations at the intersections of diverse social statuses, we identified factors specific to the ways people experienced poverty within each LGBTQ subgroup. The findings of this study have implications for future research and public policy advocacy. The central question of the study was whether poverty was experienced similarly or differently among LGBTQ subgroups at the intersection of SOGI. The findings indicated that while many indicators of economic instability (e.g., factors affecting the onset of poverty and their experiences with economic‐related social services) look similar across the subgroups, there are nonetheless several distinct factors and issues that emerge as particularly salient for each subgroup.

To that end, this study highlights the need for public policy advocates to complicate their theorizing about queer poverty and to identify the ways that efforts to alleviate economic insecurity may require more tailored approaches across the range of subgroups sitting under the LGBTQ label umbrella. Finally, these findings raise many more questions about LGBTQ poverty that warrant future research, namely on the predictive power of parenting status across sexuality and gender groups on poverty, the pervasive effects of housing discrimination on gender nonconforming and gender minority people, and the unique roles that LGBTQ and HIV‐related services play as resources for economic security for some subgroups, but possibly not others.

Outside of the specifics of the themes identified in this study, this research also highlights the importance of collecting more detailed data with LGBTQ communities overall. This study emphasizes the importance of providing disaggregated data for the diversity that sits under this overarching term, LGBTQ, in order to provide more accurate and applicable information to economic policy and services. For example, the findings show that qualitative research with queer communities focused on poverty and economics can benefit from attention to the ways poverty is experienced differently among LGBTQ people, not just in comparison to cisgender heterosexual people. This matters not just for social services development, but also for the development of policy agendas in which questions must be asked about what counts as a “LGBTQ poverty issue”? These findings suggest that childcare, access to supports when interacting with child welfare systems, bolstering economic support programs within educational settings, alongside traditional approaches to focusing on dismantling LGBT‐discrimination, are also valid LGBTQ anti‐poverty agenda issues, despite the fact that their impact will not be universally felt across LGBTQ communities. Finally, we are currently in a sociopolitical moment in which public data on gender identity that recognizes anything outside of a cisheteronormative framework is essentially banned (Pao 2025). Yet, these data indicate the ways that gender diversity matters in our understanding of economic wellbeing and highlight the need to continue relying on other forms of funded research to continue documenting the lived realities of queer people across the sexual and gender spectrum of the U.S. population.