For nearly 20 years, Mitchell hid his true self.
After growing up in the Lower Mainland and spending years in Vancouver’s West End, Mitchell moved to a small community in the Okanagan. The move was driven largely by the rising cost of living. With family in the area and the opportunity to have a home of his own, it seemed like a practical choice.
But the cultural shift was significant.
“Moving here was a culture shock,” Mitchell recalls. “Being in a rural area rather than a metro area, I didn’t feel safe being myself.”
So he went back into the closet to protect himself from what he knew could be closed-minded, rude, and possibly violent reactions to his identity.
For the next two decades, Mitchell separated the person he was from the person he felt safe showing the world. Much of his energy went into simply getting through daily life without drawing attention to his identity or risking harassment, discrimination or losing his job.
It was a choice rooted in safety: “I don’t criticize myself or feel bad for the decisions I made to keep myself safe,” he says. “I needed to protect myself.”
A New Life After Retirement
But retirement changed his perspective.
Once he was no longer focused on surviving at work, Mitchell had the space to recognize just how isolated he had become. He had family, but very little of a social circle outside of them. As he thought about the future, the reality became increasingly difficult to ignore.
“One of my parents has passed, and my remaining parent is in their late 80s,” he says. “I was very aware that I don’t have any social circle, social life, or supports outside of my family. When I lose my last parent, I’m going to be screwed if I’m still isolated and don’t have anywhere to go.”
Then, this past May, Mitchell took an important first step.
His local community held a Pride event—the first Pride event he had attended in 20 years. It was anxiety-provoking, but something inside him had shifted.
“I just couldn’t be invisible anymore,” he says. “It was not good for me. It was not good for my mental health.”
One conversation led to another, and soon Mitchell was telling people his story. Those connections introduced him to others, eventually leading him to Advocacy Canada President, Wilbur Turner.
Mitchell had seen Wilbur’s name before. Over the years, he had occasionally searched online for 2SLGBTQIA+ resources and organizations in the Okanagan. Wilbur’s name kept appearing.
“I thought, ‘He would know where I could turn. He would be the guy who would know,’” Mitchell says.
Eventually, he sent Wilbur a message: “I don’t want to be closeted. What do I do?”
Creating Meaningful Connections
Wilbur connected Mitchell with Advocacy Canada programs and people in the community, including the Rainbow Men’s Coffee Meet-Up. Before attending his first gathering, Mitchell admitted he was extremely nervous. He didn’t know anyone and wasn’t sure what to expect.
But when he got there, he learned that the organizers made sure people were looking out for someone new who might be feeling lost.
“I didn’t have to face introducing myself,” Mitchell says. “I was already so nervous. They took me under their wing, introduced me to people and included me in conversations.”
For Mitchell, that welcome became the beginning of a new network. Since then, he has attended the Rainbow Men’s Coffee Meet-Up, the Kelowna 50+ Pride Network, and the Seniors Breakfast. Each has helped him become more comfortable, build friendships, and experience something he had been missing for years: being included simply for being himself.
“Everywhere I go, there are people who right away welcome you, remember you, and comment on how glad they are that you came back,” he says. “There’s a feeling that people want you there because of who you are. They want to share your company.”
Creating a Community for Elders
That sense of belonging has been especially meaningful because Advocacy Canada creates space for older adults.
Mitchell is over 60 and traditional social spaces can feel geared toward much younger people, while Advocacy Canada’s programs for older adults offer opportunities to connect during the daytime, late afternoon, or early evening—something particularly important when Mitchell lives more than an hour from Kelowna.
The Seniors Breakfast has also removed a practical barrier. Living on a fixed income, Mitchell says the additional cost of gas and a meal could have prevented him from attending.
“Having Advocacy Canada pay for that breakfast because they want me to show up has been so special,” he says. “It eliminated a barrier to me attending.”
Perhaps most importantly, Mitchell has discovered that belonging does not require having everything figured out.
“They were just like, ‘You can be who you are. You still have a place here.’”
Looking Ahead
Mitchell is quick to acknowledge that safety remains important. He still uses a pseudonym to share his story, particularly as hateful rhetoric and incidents targeting 2SLGBTQIA+ people become more visible.
But his world is expanding: “I’ve gone from being completely isolated to having so much to do every week,” he says.
For Mitchell, Advocacy Canada has provided more than events. It has given him people who care about him, value him and want him there—not because of a label, but because of who he is.
It has also helped him rediscover confidence and challenge the fear that kept him isolated for so long.
“The hardest part is reaching out,” he says. “But if you take that first step, the people you meet will support you and help you discover your own strengths and confidence.”
And for someone who spent 20 years believing that staying invisible was the safest way to live, being seen—and knowing that he belongs—is a powerful thing.
