Happy, Healthy and Safe? For LGBTQIA+ Women, the Answer Remains Conditional

When people begin to change how they access healthcare — or whether they access it at all — it is rarely an individual choice. More often, it is a reflection of the systems around them. A new report by Kantar, developed in partnership with DIVA and The Curve Foundation, suggests that for LGBTQIA+ women and non-binary individuals, that system is still unreliable at best, and exclusionary at worst. 

The 2026 Kantar-DIVA-Curve Report, based on 3,212 responses across five countries, does not just present data — it documents a pattern of behaviour shaped by lived experience. And the pattern is clear: safety, dignity and access remain conditional. 

When systems shape decisions 

One of the report’s most striking findings is not just the prevalence of discrimination, but how it directly alters behaviour. Over 40% of respondents said they had delayed or avoided healthcare because they feared bias or had previously experienced it. One in three said they would prefer not to engage with healthcare systems at all. 

This is not a marginal trend. As the report frames it, these are measurable outcomes of systemic failure — a “global wellbeing gap” where individuals are forced to weigh their health needs against the risk of humiliation, dismissal or harm. 

The “Setting the scene” section on page 6 of the report underscores this clearly: while 61% of LGBTQIA+ women reported experiencing discrimination in business environments, access to healthcare may exist in theory, but “safety and trust are not a given.”  

In other words, infrastructure alone is not enough. Trust is the missing layer. 

India’s paradox: access without assurance 

India’s data reflects a contradiction that is difficult to ignore. On paper, 74% of respondents said healthcare systems meet their needs. But in practice, 58% reported delaying care, and 60% said they felt dismissed or not taken seriously. 

The India section (page 8) highlights this tension: healthcare may be “available but not reliably safe.”  

This gap between institutional promise and lived reality is perhaps the most revealing insight. It suggests that inclusion, in many cases, exists more as a policy statement than as an everyday experience. 

Living with conditional safety 

The report moves beyond healthcare to examine how safety is experienced in daily life. While 64% of respondents said they feel safe at home, that number drops sharply to 25% in public spaces. 

The wellbeing safety gap highlighted on page 6 shows how environments like public transport, restaurants and workplaces become sites of uncertainty rather than normalcy.  

This creates what the report describes as a “life lived on high alert” — a constant negotiation of identity, behaviour and visibility. It is not an occasional concern but a baseline condition. 

The psychological consequences of this are harder to quantify, but the report links them to anxiety, avoidance of services, and internalised stress — all of which feed back into the broader wellbeing gap. 

Healthcare: the point of deepest fracture 

Across geographies, healthcare emerges as the most critical pressure point. In the UK, women who have sex with women were found to be less likely to attend cancer screenings, sometimes due to incorrect advice from providers. In the US, over 600 anti-LGBTQIA+ bills introduced in 2025 have contributed to a climate where many respondents described healthcare settings as spaces of fear. 

The United States section (page 11) reinforces this, noting that institutional hostility has begun to shape both perception and access, with many respondents feeling judged or misunderstood in medical environments.  

The implication is clear: when healthcare systems fail to recognise or understand identity, the consequences extend far beyond discomfort — they affect long-term health outcomes. 

Visibility is not the same as inclusion 

The report also examines how LGBTQIA+ representation plays out in media and brands. While 80% of respondents said they want brands to actively promote diversity, there is growing scepticism about intent. 

The “Brands, media and platforms” section (page 13) shows that visibility without consistency can feel performative, particularly when companies retreat from public support under political or social pressure.  

For audiences, the distinction is becoming sharper. Representation may signal awareness, but without structural backing — policies, training, accountability — it does little to change lived experience. 

What actually makes a difference 

Importantly, the report does not position the problem as unsolvable. It identifies clear, practical interventions: inclusive intake forms, correct pronoun usage, staff training, and non-assumptive communication. 

These are not high-cost solutions. They are, instead, indicators of intent. 

As the report suggests, small moments — a respectful interaction, a correctly filled form — can significantly alter how safe a person feels within a system. Over time, these moments build trust. And without trust, access remains theoretical. 

A gap that can no longer be ignored 

What makes this report significant is not just its findings, but its framing. It moves the conversation away from abstract inclusion and toward tangible outcomes: who feels safe, who delays care, who opts out entirely. 

The data makes one thing difficult to ignore — that in 2026, across countries with formal equality frameworks, LGBTQIA+ women and non-binary individuals are still negotiating access to basic rights that others receive by default. 

The question, then, is not whether the problem exists. The report answers that clearly. 

The real question is whether institutions — healthcare systems, businesses, policymakers — are willing to move from visibility to accountability.