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As a Young Queer Person Who Dreams of Having a Family, This Doesn't Feel Like an America for Me Anymore

How did we get here?

Jordyn Bradley

Maybe it’s naive to say I really didn’t think we would be in this situation again. I thought being convicted of 34 felonies, charged with sexual abuse and inciting a deadly insurrection that took over our nation’s Capitol would be enough to turn people away from the reality star-turned-political tyrant.

These things feel so inherently unpatriotic to me, and yet the people who will support this man until the wheels fall off claim their patriotism and love for America is what has led to them following him unequivocally through scandal, impeachment, trial, assassination attempts and, now, another presidential candidacy.

In Trump’s America, I’ve learned that nothing can be too surprising, especially millions of Americans voting against human rights. When some of those Americans are people who claim they love you, though, it strikes a cord. I should not have to wonder if my right to exist is on your list of critical ballot issues, especially in 2024.



In 2024, I should not be afraid to hold my girlfriend’s hand in public, because people wanted potentially lower gas prices or groceries.

I should not have to wonder if my friends will be deported or brutalized, because people are racist, xenophobic and have forgotten the true meaning of “love thy neighbor.” Utilizing religion as a weapon of hatred is something that no god would condone, yet many toss around these platitudes like they are spare change.

I should not have to question if my dream of being a mother will ever become a reality. Especially now, it's a dream I've carried with me with great uncertainty — uncertainty about whether I will even be able to conceive at all with potential restrictions on IVF and other fertility treatments at both the state and national levels. I shouldn’t have to change the timeline in which I want to live my life by four years in the hopes that, after then, I will be safe.

Because there are no guarantees I will ever be fully safe and protected — as a woman, as a queer person and as an American.

I know queer people don’t need to hear this; we know what is at stake here because it’s our lives and livelihoods. We have been the ones out advocating for ourselves, knocking on doors, speaking out on social media and at the dinner table. I’m not going to spend the days after election results telling you to go out and fight more, because I know you are tired. I am too.

What are we supposed to do when the people we love don’t love us enough to vote for candidates who will protect us? All for taxes? 

I hope the potential tax savings are worth the price of losing children, siblings, parents and friends, because we shouldn’t have to overlook a “difference in beliefs” that deems us unworthy of protecting.

I hope the potential tax savings are worth the price of having blood on your hands from another school shooting, another suicide or another maternal death because a fellow American didn’t have access to a life-saving abortion, even after miscarriage, rape or incest.

If rape were such an issue, though, the 47th President of the United States wouldn’t be someone who has been ordered to pay a victim $83 million.

If taxes were such an issue, though, the 47th President of the United States wouldn’t be someone who has been busted by the FBI and the New York District Attorney for falsifying business records. 

It wouldn’t be someone promising tax cuts to the rich and changing horses midstream while we’re finally overcoming this post-Covid inflation. (I also urge anyone to look up how Trump’s tariff plans will hurt our economy and U.S. businesses, not help them.)

If I am able to have a family — whether during this next presidency or not — I hope my children feel safe, secure and know that I will never stop fighting for them to have more rights than I did. Many of our parents may not be able to say the same.

I know queer people don’t need to hear this; we know what is at stake here because it’s our lives and livelihoods. We have been the ones out advocating for ourselves, knocking on doors, speaking out on social media and at the dinner table. I’m not going to spend the days after election results telling you to go out and fight more, because I know you are tired. I am too.

Looking out for your neighbors is exhausting when many of your neighbors wouldn’t offer you a cup of sugar, because you’re Black, trans or an immigrant. We deserve a break from fighting for the basic human rights that we should be afforded. 

What I will say, though, is to remember the community support you have in these times. Find comfort in the people who know why you are grieving, and who let you grieve. Go to a rage room. Scream in your car. Distance yourself this holiday season if you need to (and are able). Delete people off social media. Or delete social media altogether. Maybe even contact your medical provider and schedule a check-up before January, if you think it might help.

It’s OK to mourn life as you knew it; we’ve lived through too many unprecedented times already not to.

But the biggest piece to remember in all of this is to live. They’ve threatened to take so much from us already, but we cannot let them have who we are at our core: our passions, our talents, our quirks, our empathy, our light. We won’t put our lives off for another four years, waiting and hoping for something else.



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