Allies Aren't Just Nice to Have. They're How We Win.

Our community needs the protection and visibility allyship provides

Published: June 29, 2026 | Last Updated: July 2, 2026

I’ve noticed that for many people in the queer community, allyship can be a difficult concept with numerous pros and cons. For example, every time a straight actor portrays a gay character, it helps break down barriers. But it also takes a potential role away from queer actors, who already face diminished Hollywood prospects. Or welcoming straight people to Pride celebrations helps broaden queer acceptance and normalization, but it can also make some LGBTQ+ people feel uncomfortable, or like they can’t fully let their guard down in what should have been a queer space.

I get the two-sided argument. but ultimately I feel that allies are incredibly important, and that their inclusion and embrace adds many more benefits than hindrances. So much so that I think it shouldn’t even be a point of contention within the LGBTQ+ community. The reality is that we need allies. They aren't just a benefit, they’re crucial for creating long-lasting equality.

A few years ago, an editor at another publication wanted me to write a piece about a gay anti-gun group. I told him that it could easily feed into homophobia since the types of people who fervently obsess over gun ownership aren’t exactly allies of the gay community. That’s not just opinion either. NPR and Reuters both reported in 2024 that gun manufacturers were marketing AR-15s as a way to attain masculinity, and results of a 2024 experiment published in the National Library of Medicine found that men who had their masculinity questioned were more likely to turn to firearms.

He still didn’t get it, so I tried to lay it out for him as bluntly as possible: Gun lovers are afraid of being seen as weak or emasculated — the same reason why so many men are afraid of being perceived as gay.

I understand his fear. The idea that certain groups within America hate us so much that our words mean nothing is horrifying. It’s a symbol of the deep-rooted hatred we’re forced to live with on a daily basis. Even worse, one of the scenarios where it often feels like our words mean nothing is when we fight for our own civil liberties and our right to live safe, healthy lives in America. Queer people usually have the least say in queer rights, and that’s an appalling shame.

But at the same time, we can’t act surprised about this anymore. LGBTQ+ oppression didn’t just start; it’s been happening in this country for generations. We need to stop letting the weight of disenfranchisement crush our spirits and learn how to fight back. I’ve always believed that activism isn’t just the ability to cry out that you’re oppressed. Activism is knowing how to work towards a solution — and that’s where allies come into play.

First, let’s assess the situation: We live in a queerphobic country that unfortunately seems to be getting even more queerphobic as we continue our regression into toxic conservatism. Republicans are scapegoating the LGBTQ+ community on a daily basis, and the rampant homophobia, misogyny and faux-alpha-masculinity crisis that’s dominating the right is turning more and more people against us because toxic masculinity is often at the core of queerphobia.

The result is a growing number of people who hate us, and an even larger number of people who don’t necessarily know what to think of us.

We need to accept and recognize that, unfortunately, as members of the LGBTQ+ community, our voices mean less to many groups of people. A queer person can cry and scream at a homophobe about how much their oppression has hurt us, but the homophobe won’t care. In fact, most homophobes will probably relish our misery.

Then there’s the broader group of Americans in that middle, grayish area. The ones who don’t outwardly hate us, but have been influenced by the culture around them, that’s taught them we’re different. That we’re not like them. That we’re the “other.”

Getting diehard homophobes to change will be nearly impossible. But the other group, the one that I believe makes up most of America, can probably be reached. The question is how. And the answer is allies.

People are much more open and receptive to hearing things when they feel comfortable. People crave familiarity and stability, and that’s why new ideas often scare them — especially when those ideas are currently one of the hottest and most demonized political issues of the moment. If we’re the “other” and straight people are the “normal,” those who are on the fence about queer rights will be much more receptive to hearing about equality from a cishet straight person because it feels like it’s coming from a shared perspective.

I know this is unfair and shouldn’t be the way the world works, but at a certain point, the queer community needs to recognize that this is the way the world works. You are welcome to complain about it, to share how angry you are about it, and to demand change. But change rarely comes simply because a minority community demands it. Change takes work, strategy and requires a coalition of voices coming together. It’s a numbers game.

The LGBTQ+ community is a minority. By definition, that means there are fewer of us. If the only people fighting and voting for equality is the queer community, we will never have the votes to enact change or the critical mass to alter social norms. So that creates a two-fold benefit of having allies within the community. First, they’re another voice and vote in our favor. Secondly, since they can potentially have more sway with other cishet people, their voices can help change more minds, bringing even more allies into the equation.

I know some queer people feel that allies will never fully be part of the community and will never fully understand us since they’re not “one of us.” But remember, the only reason the queer community exists as its own subculture is that we were rejected by mainstream society. It isn’t an exclusive club that requires membership. It’s a club that was created because of rejection and resistance. And in the modern era, allies absolutely need to be a part of that resistance. Let’s also remember that the full LGBTQ+ acronym has bloomed into LGBTQQIAAP2S — and one of those A’s is for allies.

We need allies. Not just because it’s great to have cis straight friends who aren't bigots, but also because their voices can help amplify our cause. So let’s start embracing allies. They’re more than just our friends and family, they’re an important key to creating change. They can reach people we can’t, and they are exactly what we hope all cishet people can be — totally fine with us just the way we are.