Reflections on Elsewhere Express, Queer Identity, and the Search for Meaning
By Dr. Josh Littleton, LMHC, ABS
I recently finished reading Elsewhere Express by Sam Sotto, and honestly, it hit me in a way I wasn’t entirely expecting. The novel carries this lingering emotional atmosphere about grief, identity, alternate pathways, and the aching human question of “What if?” But underneath all the fantasy and magical realism, what stood out to me most was something deeply human: so many people quietly move through life disconnected from themselves, from purpose, from belonging, and from the version of themselves they thought they would become.
As a psychotherapist, I see versions of this every week in counseling. People often enter therapy believing the issue is anxiety, depression, burnout, relational distress, or loneliness. But beneath many of those presenting concerns is a quieter existential thread: “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
For queer people especially, this question can carry additional layers. Many queer individuals spend portions of childhood and adolescence learning how to survive emotionally before learning how to fully exist authentically. There is often a long period of adaptation, performance, masking, and trying to become digestible to families, schools, churches, workplaces, and communities.
Elsewhere Express reminded me of how many people are quietly grieving unlived versions of themselves. The queer teenager who learned it was safer to stay silent. The adult who became so good at surviving that they forgot what actually made them feel emotionally alive.
In therapy, I think one of the most important things we do is create space for people to rediscover themselves outside of survival. What actually brings you peace? What makes your nervous system soften? What relationships allow you to exhale instead of brace?
Intersectionality matters here too. Queer identity never exists in isolation. A queer person may also be navigating race, disability, neurodivergence, faith traditions, poverty, caregiving roles, or chronic illness. Sometimes people are carrying so many identities and responsibilities simultaneously that they lose access to their own internal voice entirely.
One thing I loved about Elsewhere Express is that it treats longing with compassion rather than shame. So many people quietly long for another version of life. Another chance. Another beginning. Therapy is not about erasing that longing. Sometimes it is about helping people understand what the longing is trying to say.
Maybe the longing says:
“I want rest.”
“I want authenticity.”
“I want softness.”
“I want to stop performing.”
I think queer therapy work often involves helping people reconnect with parts of themselves that became buried beneath adaptation. Sometimes healing is not about becoming someone entirely new. Sometimes it is about safely returning to yourself.
Books like Elsewhere Express matter because they remind us that humans are layered, unfinished, grieving, hopeful, contradictory creatures. Therapy cannot give someone a perfect life. But it can help someone become more emotionally honest within the life they already have.
The Queerness 