Once upon a time, when the 45th president, Donald Trump, took office, some of my acquaintances tried to comfort me with promises that he would safeguard LGBTQ rights. They sent me photos of him holding the rainbow flag, acting as if he were the ultimate ally. They insisted he would keep Vice President Mike Pence in check. But let’s be real—Pence, with his beliefs in conversion therapy and his views on marriage leading to “societal collapse,” isn’t someone whose influence I can dismiss. I was told I’d be safe under this presidency, despite being a queer woman married to another woman and raising a transgender child. I knew better.
Those folks weren’t true friends. A real friend wouldn’t tell you to ignore the gut-wrenching fear that surfaces after such a pivotal election. If the tables were turned and Hillary had won, I wouldn’t have reassured Trump supporters. I would have urged them to prepare themselves for a reckoning. But here we are—Hillary lost, and every day feels like a loss for me too, as my rights as an LGBTQ individual seem to be eroding. With Trump and Attorney General Sessions at the helm, federal agencies are now authorized to discriminate under the guise of religious liberty. This means same-sex spouses could be denied Social Security benefits, and LGBTQ individuals could face discrimination from federal employees—even in emergencies.
I can be treated unfairly simply for being human, for loving another woman, or for threatening someone’s religious beliefs. It feels like everything can be taken from me without any just cause.
After listening to Trump’s speech at the Values Voter Summit—a gathering that could more accurately be described as a Christian-based hate fest—I was furious. He endorsed a pamphlet that attendees received, titled “The Health Hazards of Homosexuality,” and by doing so, he legitimized all forms of anti-LGBTQ sentiment and actions.
Just when I took a moment to regain my strength and hope, I stumbled upon a headline: “Trump Mocks Pence for Wanting to ‘Hang All Gay People.’” Apparently, my rights aren’t enough; my very existence is now up for ridicule.
I spent the day feeling sick, my jaw clenched from stress, my shoulders heavy with tension. It’s baffling to think someone could joke about hanging another human being. And don’t you dare tell me it’s “just a joke.” It’s not amusing, and frankly, it’s disgusting.
Let’s flip the script—what if the joke was about Pence wanting to hang all people with brown eyes or all left-handed folks? There’s nothing humorous about wishing harm on someone for who they are or who they love. My family, and the entire LGBTQ community, deserve equality, respect, and safety in our homes and in our country.
People who still believe that sexuality or gender identity is a choice truly terrify me. Their ignorance breeds hate and justifies harm. The leader of our nation finds humor in the idea that LGBTQ individuals should be hanged, effectively giving a green light to discrimination, harassment, and violence against us.
It’s been nearly 20 years since Matthew Shepard was murdered simply for being gay. And I think of Jessica, a woman killed this year for being transgender. That’s all it takes—just existing in a world where some people think they have the right to decide who deserves to live.
Yes, I know I have allies and live in a progressive area, and I’m grateful for that. But the reality remains: my very existence angers and frightens some to the point that they would rather see me dead. When people vote for an administration that thinks my life is expendable, that’s when I know I’m not safe anywhere.
I feel like I’m losing rights, faith, and steam. I don’t deserve to lose my life.
In summary, the struggle for LGBTQ rights continues amidst a backdrop of political hostility and societal ignorance. The fight for equality, respect, and safety goes on, as does the resilience of the LGBTQ community.