Live openly while the world goes crazy. Manifesto on how to preserve yourself in the era of new anti-LGBTQ+ laws

Around the world (and especially in the United States), the number of anti-LGBTQ+ laws is growing, and the level of community support is falling. Why in such times "being yourself" is not a slogan, but the only way to survive

Today's news for LGBTQ+ people increasingly resembles a chronicle of a rollback to the past. After two decades of steady progress, sociologists have recorded a decline in public support, and politicians have introduced bills restricting the rights of queer people one after another. It seems that the world is becoming unsafe again. However, history shows that it is at such moments that openness becomes the main tool of resistance. Columnist Drew Atkins for USA Today reflects on why we have no right to silence, even if we are very scared.

Numbers vs. People

The statistics of recent years look frightening. According to Gallup polls, support for LGBTQ+ rights has begun to decline after twenty years of continuous growth. The effects of this pressure are being felt physically, with 2025 data from the Trevor Project showing that one in ten LGBTQ teens has attempted suicide.

Political pressure is also growing. In the first half of 2026 alone, about 800 anti-transgender bills were submitted in the United States, and in 2025 their number exceeded a thousand. Against this background, even large corporations that have supported Pride Month for years are beginning to retreat, fearing a conservative boycott.

Lessons of History: When the State Is Silent, the Community Speaks

The current situation is not the first time in history that a community has been isolated. The history of the queer movement is a "roadmap of resilience" built on overcoming suffering.

In the 1980s, during the HIV/AIDS crisis, President Ronald Reagan's administration remained silent until 1985, when thousands of people died. In response to the inaction of the authorities, the community created its own rescue system. When men who had sex with men were banned from donating blood, it was lesbians who set up blood collection points to help the sick. Protest, art and mutual aid then became a form of life support.

The same thing happened a decade ago after the shooting at the Pulse club in Orlando, where 49 people died. The survivors and relatives of the victims did not just grieve, they created funds to help young people and demanded accountability from the authorities. The history of queer people is a cycle where tragedy becomes fuel for new solidarity over and over again.

"Sterile" identity will not save you

One of the main dangers in the era of repression is an attempt to become "convenient" for society. There is a temptation to offer the world a "purified," filtered version of ourselves, hoping that this will leave us alone.

But this is an illusion. As the author notes, "silence is the shackles that we fasten on ourselves." Homophobia uses shame as a weapon to make people disappear from the public space. But giving up your own identity for the sake of those who dream of your disappearance is capitulation to hatred.

Why it matters right now

To live openly today means to recognize the danger, but refuse to submit to it. "I am not asking you to ignore the risks... I say we should do it even when we're scared," Atkins writes.

Freedom is not a passive state. This is the right to "ordinary pleasures": the ability to hold your partner's hand on the sidewalk or kiss in a bar. These little things, which seem natural, have actually been won back through decades of struggle.

Ultimately, your identity does not belong to politicians, corporations, or violent activists. "Your queer identity is not for them. It's for you." And trying to preserve it in the darkest times is the ultimate act of resistance.