Maybe the most tone deaf person I've ever read........ [View all]

I mean............. just read this............ Oh no! It shouldn't be up to trans people to decide their lives! or companies to have DEI policies! I'm all on board with that and WAIT WHAT DO YOU MEAN I SHOULDN'T BE ABLE TO MARRY WHO I WANT????????? Face........ meet leopard

https://www.queermajority.com/essays-all/lesbians-like-me-joined-forces-with-conservatives

Michigan, Idaho, Montana, North Dakota, and South Dakota have all urged the US Supreme Court to overturn Obergefell v. Hodges, the 2015 decision that federally legalized same-sex marriage. But this move isn’t as straightforward as many activists on both sides would have you believe. Even if Obergefell is ultimately overturned, other laws and rulings complicate things. The Respect for Marriage Act requires states to acknowledge the legal marriages of other states, and United States v. Windsor struck down key parts of the anti-LGBT Defense of Marriage Act. Should Obergefell fall while Windsor stands, same-sex marriages would still be recognized at the federal level, even if individual states banned them. Yet, the implications are deeply troubling. We could return to a system where some states honor same-sex marriages, while others don’t — a legal patchwork that could severely constrain LGBT rights and upend the decades of work leading up to Obergefell. As a 29-year-old lesbian engaged to be married, this turn of events is personal for me. And it may be one I helped contribute to.

When the “woke” mania swept the country in 2020, I took a step back and reevaluated where I stood and why I stood there. To my surprise, I found that I agreed with conservatives and libertarians on a number of issues. I opposed childhood gender transitions, unlawful and divisive DEI mandates, and the excesses of Critical Race Theory. I argued against biological males competing in women’s sports and being housed in women’s prisons. I did so loudly and publicly, losing many friends along the way. My stance wasn’t rooted in hate or fear but in a commitment to reason and fairness. My loyalty was to the truth, not to political tribes. Maintaining my integrity cost me greatly, but I believed it was worth it.

I went even further — I joined a nonpartisan organization as a legal analyst, advocating for parental rights in schools, against race-based affirmative action, and opposing radical gender ideology. I wrote legal letters, spoke at universities that plastered my face on fliers calling me a bigot, and partnered with conservative attorneys who, I believed, were fighting to preserve fundamental American values. I stood shoulder to shoulder with them on the cultural battlefield, committed to protecting gender-nonconforming children's welfare while still supporting trans adults who simply wanted to live their lives in peace. It was the most extreme activist voices — those who called lesbians transphobic for only wanting to sleep with women and who prioritized trans women’s feelings over the safety of cisgender women — that I opposed. I recognized that these excesses were not just putting trans adults’ rights in jeopardy, but the gay and bi communities’ as well. The fringe was threatening all of us. Acceptance of same-sex marriage began to decline for the first time in a decade. We needed to course correct, and fast.

I was aware of the ever-present elements of the far-right who have always opposed same-sex marriage and the existence of trans-identifying adults, but I didn’t expect the “reasonable” right to join their ranks so quickly once the power dynamic shifted.