Wicked and the Psychology of Being "Too Much": Lessons for Neurodivergent and LGBTQIA Therapy London

As a neurodivergent LGBTQIA+ therapist specialising in trauma, addiction, and eating disorders, I've found that some of our most profound healing insights come from unexpected places. Wicked isn't just a story about witches and wizards, it's a mirror for anyone who's been told they're too different, too loud, too visible, too much. It's about the psychological cost of refusing to shrink in a world that demands conformity.

In my work with LGBTQIA+ clients, neurodivergent individuals, and those recovering from addiction and eating disorders, I've witnessed how these themes play out in real lives. The narrative of Wicked speaks directly to the experience of living at the intersections of marginalised identities, navigating systems that criminalise, pathologise, and attempt to erase queer, trans, and neurodivergent existence.

Let me share what Wicked taught me about queerness, oppression, and the transformative power of refusing to play by the rules of someone else's game.

The First Wound: When Your Neurodivergent and LGBTQIA Identity Becomes the "Problem"

Elphaba's father rejects her because of her green skin. She is ridiculed, othered, dehumanised, and scapegoated, often leaving her ostracised. This is the first wound, the moment when we learn that our fundamental identity is deemed "unacceptable" by those meant to protect us.

For LGBTQIA+ and neurodivergent individuals: When our identity, our sexuality, gender, neurodivergence, or even the colour of our skin, is rejected, we internalise a dangerous belief: that existing as ourselves is inherently wrong. This early trauma becomes the foundation for so many mental health struggles I see in my therapy practice.

We might develop eating disorders as a way to control what we cannot change. We turn to substances to escape what society tells us is fundamentally "wrong" about who we are. We harm ourselves as punishment for simply taking up space in a world that wishes we didn't.

The truth that transforms: You were never the problem. The system that demanded sameness was. Therapy for LGBTQIA+ individuals begins with this recognition, that the wound isn't in your identity, but in how society responded to it.

The Bubble Trap: Performing Acceptability at the Cost of Authenticity

Glinda's bubble represents the carefully curated life we create before honesty. We become people-pleasers, likeable, conflict-avoidant, desperate to keep peace and avoid rejection. We maintain the image of being the "good gay," the "acceptable" neurodivergent person, the one who doesn't make others uncomfortable.

The psychological cost: In my addiction and eating disorder therapy work, I see how we shrink ourselves to fit. We laugh off hurtful comments. We accept being the token representation. We mask our neurodivergence until we're exhausted. We turn to substances or control food to give the illusion of stability and control.

We perform "fine" while quietly betraying our morals, our needs, and our values. The bubble may feel safe, but it's built on denial and conditional approval. It costs us intimacy, integrity, and authentic connection.

The liberation: Once you recognise your truth, you can't unknow yourself. The bubble has to pop. Authenticity begins where performance ends. This is often the turning point in trauma-informed therapy, when clients stop performing and start existing.

Respectability Politics: The "Good" vs. "Wicked" Binary

Society pits us against each other: "good" versus "wicked." Glinda gets rewarded for conformity. Elphaba gets punished for resistance. These labels aren't neutral observations; they're constructed political narratives designed to control who gets acceptance and who gets abandoned.

How this shows up in our communities:

• White gays versus queer people of colour

• Cis gays versus trans folks

• "Respectable" recovery versus harm reduction approaches

• Thin privilege in eating disorder spaces

• "High-functioning" versus "low-functioning" labels in neurodivergent communities

Who is deemed acceptable, and who gets left behind?

The trap: We trade our solidarity for proximity to power. We seek safety by distancing ourselves from those deemed "too much," reinforcing the very systems that oppress us all.

The truth: Binaries flatten us. None of us fit neatly into "good" or "wicked." We are complex, contradictory, and fully human. Systems fear this complexity because it threatens their control.

Internalised Oppression: When We Believe the Lies About Ourselves

Elphaba absorbs the external rejection she experiences and starts to believe she's unlovable, dangerous, cursed, that no good deed of hers goes unpunished. This is internalised oppression at its most destructive.

For marginalised communities: We internalise homophobia, transphobia, racism, fatphobia, and ableism. We absorb the messages that we're "too much" or "not enough." In my therapy practice, I see how this manifests in our relationship with food and substances, restricting, bingeing, using, all because we've internalised the lie that we don't deserve to take up space.

The therapeutic work: Healing requires us to unlearn the lies about who we're allowed to be. We must evict the oppressor from living rent-free inside our heads. As Elphaba sings, "I'm through accepting limits 'cause someone says they're so."

This is the core of trauma recovery, rejecting the narratives imposed on us and reclaiming our right to exist fully.

Seeking Empty Validation

Elphaba seeks the Wizard's approval, hoping recognition from power will make her worthy. Instead, he exploits her gifts and betrays her, recreating the pattern of rejection she experienced from her father. This is repetition compulsion: unconsciously recreating early wounds in later relationships with authority figures.

The pattern in our lives: How many times have we sought validation from systems and people that will never give it? Religious institutions. Parents who refuse to see us. Diet culture. Heteronormative society. Neurotypical standards.

We keep looking "up the ladder" for acceptance instead of building community with those who truly see us.

The realisation: We cannot earn our worth from those who profit from our shame. This is a crucial insight in eating disorder and addiction recovery, that we're seeking external validation to fill an internal void created by oppression, not by any deficiency in ourselves.

Visibility as Both Risk and Resistance

The Wizard and Madame Morrible target Elphaba because of her visibility around animal rights. Her truth threatens the regime's power.

For LGBTQIA+ and neurodivergent individuals: Our existence is inherently political. When we live authentically, come out, unmask, and set boundaries, we challenge systems built on our silence. Visibility makes us vulnerable to judgment, discrimination, and violence. We're often vilified simply for refusing to lie about who we are.

But visibility also saves lives: It humanises what society tries to demonise. Cynthia Erivo embodying Elphaba reminds us that we belong everywhere: in our bodies, our communities, our power.

Being seen is terrifying. It's also how we become harder to erase.

In therapy, I support clients through the terrifying process of becoming visible, to themselves first, then to others. This visibility is an act of resistance and a pathway to healing.

Narrative Power: Who Gets to Tell Our Story?

Wicked demonstrates how villains are shaped by stories. Those in power control the narrative. The Wizard and Madame Morrible label Elphaba "wicked," justifying her persecution and using narratives as tools of oppression.

For marginalised communities: For generations, those in power have controlled narratives about us. We've been called sinful, predatory, disordered, broken. These labels serve to justify our exclusion, criminalisation, and erasure.

The therapeutic and political work: Reclaiming our narratives challenges the structures that perpetuate inequality. In therapy, we rewrite the story of who we are, not as damaged or disordered, but as people navigating systems that were designed without us in mind.

Our truth threatens systems built on lies. This is why authentic storytelling is so powerful.

Complicity versus Solidarity: What Will You Trade for Comfort?

Glinda has privilege even within Oz's hierarchy. She faces a choice: use her position to challenge the system, or protect her comfort by staying complicit.

For those with privilege within marginalised communities: White queers, cis gays, thin folks in eating disorder spaces, those with class privilege; we all have choices about whose liberation we fight for.

The question: Will you trade your proximity to power for true solidarity? Or will you protect your bubble while others burn?

Comfort is not neutral.

Silence is complicity.

In my work, I've seen how powerful it is when people with privilege choose solidarity over comfort. This is how we build movements, not just personal healing.

Chosen Family, Rupture, and Repair: Growth Happens in Relationship

Glinda and Elphaba grow through conflict, love, rupture, and repair.

Real transformation happens in relationship, not isolation.

For many LGBTQIA+ and neurodivergent folks: We only learn what safety feels like when we meet people who don't ask us to shrink. Chosen family witnesses the parts that biological family rejected. They hold space for our full complexity.

The hard truth: Living authentically may mean being misunderstood, walking alone for a while. But staying in the bubble, in addiction, in eating disorder behaviours, in the closet, in complicity, that's a slow death.

Remember: Your difference is your power.

Everyone Deserves a Chance to Fly

Elphaba didn't fail. The system did.

Your greenness. Your queerness. Your neurodivergence. Your scars. Your recovery. Your resistance. Your aliveness. None of it is something to overcome.

In my therapy practice in Central London and online, I work with LGBTQIA+ clients experiencing trauma, addiction, eating disorders, and the compounded effects of living at the intersections of marginalised identities. Together, we navigate the ongoing effects of systems that demand we shrink, perform, or disappear.

The work isn't about fixing what's "wrong" with you. It's about unlearning what you were taught to believe about yourself. It's about reclaiming your narrative, building authentic community, and choosing solidarity over comfort.

Because everyone deserves the chance to fly, not despite difference, but because of it.

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LGBTQIA Therapy London and Finding an LGBTQIA Therapist Who Gets It

If you're navigating the challenges of being "too much" in a world that demands conformity, therapy can provide a space to explore your authentic self without judgment. As a queer therapist and neurodivergent-affirming practitioner in London, I offer individual therapy, couples therapy, and group therapy for LGBTQIA+ individuals, neurodivergent folks, and those recovering from trauma, addiction, and eating disorders.

Whether you're struggling with internalised homophobia, coming out, gender identity questions, trauma, eating disorder recovery, addiction, or the compounded effects of minority stress, you deserve support that honours your full identity.

I work with clients experiencing:

• Trauma and PTSD from discrimination or rejection

• Eating disorders and disordered eating

• Addiction and substance use

• Anxiety and depression linked to minority stress

• ADHD and autism support

• Relationship challenges and attachment wounds

• Identity exploration and coming out support

Learn more about working with me or get in touch to begin your journey toward defying gravity.

Click here to see my Instagram post used as inspiration for this blog.

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