Where I’m Coming From
I grew up being taught that being gay was sinful—no footnotes, no caveats. You could try to explain it away, but the message I heard was simple: it’s a sin.
And yet my mom also showed compassion. When I was a teenager, we talked about Elton John. She said some people try not to be gay but simply can’t, because that’s who they are. She felt for him—he even married Renate Blauel, but it didn’t work because he was gay. That told me my mom understood more than the rules alone.
One day I asked her directly: if one of us were gay or lesbian, would you still talk to us? She said of course—she would still love us. I know it wasn’t what she would have wanted for her kids, but she was clear: you don’t disown your children over this.
As an adult, life put faces to the issue. I knew a couple of lesbian women in my building—just kind, ordinary neighbors. Later I became close with a friend who came out as lesbian in adulthood.
Then, one night at a restaurant, another friend told me he had always felt like a girl. He trusted me and my longtime roommate, Greg, enough to say it out loud. When I mentioned this to a Christian acquaintance, he said I should tell our friend it wasn’t Christian. My response was simple: he’s heard that a thousand times. He didn’t need that from me. What he needed was support.
So Greg and I told him we loved him and would be there for him, whatever he decided about next steps. It isn’t always obvious how to support someone when you haven’t walked that road yourself. I’ve learned to err on the side of love—show up, listen, and make sure people know they’re not alone—because I love my friends. I love them as they are, and whatever brings them peace and happiness makes me happy for them.
What “LGBTQ+” Means
LGBTQ+ stands for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer or questioning; the “+” covers others under the same umbrella, like nonbinary, intersex, and asexual people. The point isn’t to stack letters—it’s to name real experiences that used to be ignored.
Quick clarity because there’s a lot of confusion out there:
Sex is about bodily traits (chromosomes, hormones, anatomy). Most people are male or female, but not everyone’s traits line up neatly. That’s where intersex people come in—natural variations in sex development. That doesn’t mean there are “26 biological sexes.” It means biology has exceptions and gray areas, not just two perfectly sealed boxes.
Gender identity is your internal sense of yourself (man, woman, both, neither, or something in between). If your identity matches what you were labeled at birth, that’s cisgender. If it doesn’t, that’s transgender. Some people are nonbinary—they don’t feel fully male or fully female.
Sexual orientation is about who you’re attracted to (or not): gay, lesbian, bi, straight, asexual, etc. Orientation and gender identity are different questions.
A lot of the “there are 26 sexes” talk mixes these categories together and adds identity labels on top. There are, yes, many identity labels—because language is how people describe their experience—but that’s not the same thing as claiming dozens of biological sexes.
On nonbinary specifically: I know someone who came out as nonbinary. A relative of hers explained it like this: she doesn’t feel like either category fits—not male, not female, at least not all the time or in the usual ways. That helped me put it in real-life terms. I’m still learning about this part, because I haven’t deeply delved into nonbinary experiences before, but the basic ask is simple: use the name and pronouns someone gives you and treat them with the same respect you want for yourself.
Two Verses That Guide Me
As a Christian, this is how I frame it: Jesus sets love as the standard, and Scripture reminds me that God—not me—judges hearts. That’s why I lead with love and refuse to police other people’s lives.
“Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:39) Jesus makes love the measure. He didn’t add an asterisk for “only straight neighbors,” “only people like you,” or “only when you agree.” Neighbor means neighbor.
“Each of us will give an account of ourselves to God… therefore let us stop passing judgment.” (Romans 14:12–13) In short: I answer for me, you answer for you. My job is to love my neighbor; God handles the final accounting.
So even when I don’t fully understand someone’s identity or choices, I start with respect, protect their dignity, and I try to keep my own house in order.
Even If You Think It’s Sin
Some Christians treat same-sex relationships or transitioning as one of the “big” sins. I disagree—but even if you believe that, people still have God-given free will. In a free country, adults make their own moral choices.
And if it is a sin? I’m not deputized to govern anyone’s conscience. That’s between them and the Lord. Christians believe we all miss the mark in different ways; each of us will give an account to God (Romans 14:12–13), and Jesus tells us to love our neighbors rather than fixate on judging them (Matthew 7:1–2; 22:39).
Sometimes I hear, “Well, Jesus would tell them the truth.” Yes—Jesus spoke truth in love to people he knew, with perfect wisdom and authority. I’m not Jesus, and neither are you. If you’re a pastor offering formal counseling and your conscience says it’s sin, you may tell someone that gently. But as a friend and neighbor, my role is to love people well, not coerce them into my conclusions.
I’ll be honest: there was a time I thought it was wrong because that’s how I was raised. Even then I tried not to judge people. Over time I changed my mind. Either way, other adults’ relationships are not my business. If a friend asks my opinion, I’ll share it respectfully—then I leave their choices to them and to God.
What consenting adults do in their own relationships isn’t my business—and it isn’t yours either. Their civil rights are non-negotiable: the right to work, to housing, to public life without harassment. I respect a faithful same-sex or transgender couple far more than a heterosexual couple breaking vows. Integrity matters more than the genders involved. I’ll keep tending to my own walk with God and leave their decisions to them—and to God.
Bathrooms: How My View Changed
Toward the end of the Obama years—around 2016—I started hearing debates about bathrooms. The idea was that people could use the restroom that matched their gender identity (for example, a trans woman using the women’s room). My first reaction was disgust and fear. I pictured worst-case scenarios with kids present and thought, “No way.” New things can feel threatening, and I let that fear lead.
Over time I started listening and reading. I learned that most of the scary stories weren’t backed up by facts, and that the people most at risk in restrooms are often transgender folks themselves when they’re forced into the “wrong” bathroom. I also learned better language: not “a guy who feels like a girl,” but a trans woman; not “a girl who feels like a guy,” but a trans man. Many trans people live and present every day as their gender—clothes, hair, voice, name, and social role. Telling a trans woman to use the men’s room doesn’t make anyone safer; it sets her up for harm.
What does that harm look like? Often it’s verbal harassment—being confronted, yelled at, or mocked; sometimes it’s being filmed and posted online, or being ordered out by staff. In too many cases it escalates to shoving or assault, especially for trans women told to use men’s facilities. I hadn’t realized how common that is until I dug into the research for this post.
Where I’ve landed is pretty simple. My first choice—honestly, even as a blind woman—is a single-user restroom. More privacy, less stress. But that isn’t always available, especially in big stores and venues. So my preference now is: let people use the facility that matches their gender identity, and enforce behavior rules for everyone. Harassment, voyeurism, or assault are illegal no matter who does them.
Design helps, too: more single-user options where possible; stalls with better partitions; clear sightlines and staff presence. Privacy is good for everybody. And a practical reminder: you’re not sharing a stall. You’re in your private space, they’re in theirs. Most people—trans or not—just want to wash their hands and go.
I still like single-user restrooms best. But I’m not going to turn my personal preference into a rule that stigmatizes someone else. Dignity and safety can coexist, and that’s what I’m for.
Sports: Fairness Without Cruelty
When I first heard the debates about transgender athletes, I honestly didn’t know what to think. I’d heard the horror stories: a trans woman (someone who was treated as male at birth but is a woman) shows up in girls’ and women’s sports and it’s automatically unfair because she’s “stronger.” I’ve since learned there’s more to it, and—like with bathrooms—fear fills in a lot of blanks when we don’t have details.
Here’s the basic fairness concern people raise: going through male puberty can increase muscle mass, bone size, and hemoglobin, which can help in some events. Hormone therapy can reduce some of those advantages (especially over time), but not always all of them. That’s why serious sports bodies have been testing different policies rather than pretending it’s one-size-fits-all.
What I’ve come to support is a practical, sport-by-sport approach instead of blanket bans. At the youth and school levels, the priority is participation and belonging—letting kids play with their friends, learn teamwork, and stay active. At higher, more competitive levels, you can layer in specific rules (for example, hormone-duration requirements or other eligibility criteria that make sense for that sport). Some sports already use categories to balance fairness—weight classes, age groups, disability classifications—so the idea of tailoring rules isn’t new.
Two points that matter to me:
• This is not happening everywhere, all the time. The number of trans athletes is small. Most schools and leagues will never see a controversy in a given season.
• We can protect fairness without cruelty. That means no public shaming, no targeting kids, and no turning youth sports into culture-war battlegrounds. If someone meets the policy for that sport, let them play. If a policy needs adjusting, adjust it—with transparency and respect.
Final thought: we all jump to conclusions sometimes. I’ve done it. But when I slowed down and actually looked into it, I saw room for both dignity and fairness. That’s where I land—keep girls’ and women’s sports strong, and don’t use “fairness” as a cover to erase trans people from the field.
Kids, Families, and Reality
A few years ago, a good friend told me her granddaughter had come out as a boy. She handled it with grace. When her daughter said, “I have something to tell you,” my friend replied, “OK—go ahead, tell me.” After she explained, my friend said, “Is that all? I thought you were going to tell me she was pregnant or something.”
Later I asked my friend’s daughter how she felt, and she said a line I’ll never forget: “I’d rather have an alive son than a dead daughter.” That conversation taught me something I hadn’t known then—that when kids are rejected or erased, the risks to their mental health shoot up, and when they’re supported, those risks drop.
Here’s the quick picture. National surveys show LGBTQ+ youth face much higher rates of suicidal thoughts and attempts than their straight peers. In one recent national survey, about two in five LGBTQ+ young people seriously considered suicide in the past year, and the rate was even higher among transgender and nonbinary youth. Family and school support make a real difference: when a young person’s identity and pronouns are respected at home and in school, suicide risk is lower. Even simple things—like using a child’s chosen name—are linked to better mental health.
Some people claim schools are “encouraging” kids to be trans. I don’t buy that. What most schools are trying to do is prevent bullying and make sure every student can learn without being targeted. Teaching respect isn’t recruitment; it’s basic safety. A kid doesn’t become trans because a teacher used their name—what changes is whether that kid feels safe enough to stay in school and stay alive.
And no, this isn’t brand-new. Gender-diverse people have been part of human history across cultures—Two-Spirit roles in many Indigenous nations, Hijra communities in South Asia, fa’afafine in Samoa, and more. What’s newer is the language and the willingness to talk about it openly. In past decades people kept quiet because the cost of honesty was too high.
Bottom line: many of us haven’t dealt with this up close, so it feels unfamiliar. But unfamiliar isn’t the same as unreal. Kids aren’t being told what to be; they’re telling us who they are. Ignoring that can have deadly results. Listening, loving, and getting good professional advice can keep families together—and kids alive.
Why this matters now: see the Supreme Court case in Conversion Therapy in the News below for why it’s in the headlines—and what’s at stake for families.
Conversion Therapy in the News
I didn’t even know this was on the Supreme Court’s docket until today. While I’ve been working on this post, the justices heard Chiles v. Salazar—a challenge to Colorado’s 2019 law that bans licensed therapists from trying to change a minor’s sexual orientation or gender identity. Several justices sounded skeptical of these bans on free-speech grounds; if the Court strikes Colorado’s law, protections in more than 20 states could be weakened.
What is “conversion therapy”? It’s a range of practices—mostly counseling aimed at changing orientation or gender identity; historically, some outfits used aversive methods—that claim they can make an LGBTQ+ person straight or cisgender. Major medical groups say it doesn’t work and can do real harm (depression, anxiety, suicidality). The American Psychological Association, American Psychiatric Association, and American Medical Association all oppose it; a federal SAMHSA report recommends ending it for youth.
This isn’t just a U.S. debate. The U.N.’s independent human-rights expert has called these practices potentially “torture” and urged countries to ban them. A growing list of nations has moved to restrict or outlaw conversion practices, and many others are considering it.
My take is simple: it’s not our place to try to “fix” people who aren’t broken. Trying to force a kid—or any adult—into a different identity doesn’t protect anyone; it hurts the person on the receiving end. If your concern is safety, regulate behavior. If your concern is speech, remember we already require professionals to follow standards of care. But trying to change who someone is? That crosses a line for me.
Democracy and Boundaries
This is a democracy. People are free to hold and express opinions—including opinions that disagree with mine. That’s part of the deal. What’s not part of the deal is treating people with disrespect or trying to micromanage their private lives because you don’t like their choices.
You can believe whatever your conscience tells you. But crossing over into harassment, exclusion, or using the law to control other people’s identities and relationships—that’s where the line is. Their marriage, pronouns, clothing, or transition aren’t your jurisdiction. Your freedom ends where their equal dignity begins.
Equal rights are the baseline: the right to work, to housing, to healthcare, and to move through public life without being shamed or singled out. Disagreement is allowed; mistreatment isn’t. The standard isn’t “Do I approve?”—it’s “Are they following the law and treating others decently?” If yes, let them live.
There’s an old saying: it takes all kinds to make the world go ’round. No one is asking you to be transgender or to live anyone else’s life. So don’t worry about the adults who choose differently from you. Wish them well, mind your own lane, and keep the public square big enough for all of us.
Bottom Line: Let People Live
When I started drafting this a couple days ago, one question kept circling back: who is it hurting? If someone is LGBTQ+—if an adult transitions, if two women marry—how does that injure your life?
Worried about kids? Then raise your kids according to your convictions. Other families get to make decisions with their doctors and their own consciences. Disagreement doesn’t cancel someone else’s access to healthcare or civil rights. We live in a country where adults—parents included—make their own choices.
I’m not trans, but I am disabled, and I’m not equating the two. They’re different. What we have in common is the experience of not always being treated with basic dignity and respect. I know what it feels like when people act like your life is up for debate because you do some things differently to get by. Many trans people get that treatment even more intensely—shame, suspicion, and barriers just for being who they are.
For the record: this isn’t a “Christian nation.” The Constitution bars a national church and sets a secular government. Yes, many founders were Christians, and some people today would like the state to move toward enforcing their theology. But that isn’t what the founders designed. We’re a constitutional republic meant for everyone—people of every faith and of no faith. If you’re a Christian, live what Jesus taught in your own life and church. If you’re not a Christian, you don’t need religion to be a good person—kindness, honesty, and respect aren’t owned by any faith. The public standard is the same for all of us: basic decency, equal dignity, and equal rights. Believe what you believe—but don’t try to turn your creed into someone else’s law. This nation belongs to all of us.
You don’t have to understand every detail to treat people right. You also don’t have to live someone else’s life for your own faith to be real. Adults should be free to work, get healthcare, marry, and move through public life without being hounded or policed. If you still disagree, fine—live your convictions in your house. But don’t try to run someone else’s.
At the end of the day, it’s simple: be a good neighbor—whether that’s grounded in your faith or simple human decency—and let adults live their lives. If you’re still on the fence, ask this honestly—who is it hurting?
Notes & Sources
- Supreme Court case: SCOTUSblog’s recap of oral argument in Chiles v. Salazar (Oct. 7, 2025) and case page; national coverage from AP, Reuters, and The Washington Post.
- Medical consensus on conversion therapy: American Psychological Association, American Psychiatric Association, American Medical Association; SAMHSA’s federal report.
- Youth mental health & protective factors: CDC Youth Risk Behavior Survey (2023 data); Trevor Project’s 2024 national survey; peer-reviewed research on chosen-name use.
- Restrooms & safety: Williams Institute studies find no evidence that gender-identity protections increase restroom crimes; restricting access increases harm to trans people.
- Global/historical context: U.N. human-rights expert urging bans on conversion practices; background on gender diversity across cultures.
Notes from the edge of the system 