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.
Today, some of those same attorneys I worked with are advocating for my right to marry my fiancée to be stripped away. They are urging the Supreme Court to invalidate my engagement and to deny me the protections and benefits that heterosexual couples take for granted. Twitter is rife with homophobic posts calling gay and bi people demonic and disgusting, and attempting to oust us from the Republican Party. They blame us for the overreaches of trans activism, claiming that same-sex marriage was the “slippery slope” that preceded the extremes taking root. They argue that marriage should be between a man and a woman, period. Their legal briefs couch it in historical tradition, religious freedom, and states' rights, but the message is clear: my love, my commitment, and my family is not worthy of legal recognition. I’m a Christian woman. It took a long time for me to make my way back to the church after coming out, but my faith is now stronger than ever. My fiancée and I plan to be married in the church. Now it seems that even though our church is willing to marry us, the government might not recognize it.
This is a dangerous game right-wing culture warriors are playing. If Obergefell falls, it won’t just impact same-sex couples. It will set a precedent that fundamental rights can be granted and taken away by the shifting winds of political power. This should concern every American, regardless of their stance on same-sex marriage.
I can think of a hundred issues more pressing to the American public than the existence of same-sex marriage: inflation, the cost of healthcare, national security, the war in Gaza — the list goes on. But a growing faction of the right is drunk on power, using its current dominance to wage a culture war against its own citizens as retribution for the last number of years. “Owning the libs” is their preferred method of revenge. Instead of tackling inflation or healthcare, they are targeting millions like me who want nothing more than to live our lives freely and equally.
Many will say I should have seen this coming — that the right has and always will be against LGBT rights. And maybe there’s some truth to that. But that just wasn’t my experience. I was met with open arms by this messy coalition of ex-Democrats and lifelong Republicans, many of whom still support me and my right to marry. I found a community committed to reason and truth. Perhaps I’m simply realizing that there are fewer of us than I originally thought. The radical right is on the warpath against liberalism, trampling centrists, libertarians, and reasonable ring-wingers in the process. Ultimately, I don’t regret my decision. I worked toward what I believed — and still believe — to be true. I still oppose radical gender ideology and Critical Race Theory in schools. I still believe that biological males shouldn’t compete in women’s sports or be housed in women’s prisons. But I will not stand by while LGBT rights are legislated away.
Consider the recent controversy surrounding the gay journalist Glenn Greenwald, who has become a popular figure in right-populist circles in the past few years. When explicit videos from his private life were leaked — depicting consensual, fetishistic encounters and possible drug use — the right-wing response fractured. Some, like Megyn Kelly, defended him, calling the leak an irrelevant “attempt to embarrass him.” But the backlash was fierce and disturbing. A vocal contingent of the right, including pundits with large platforms and significant influence, seized the moment to denounce gay people writ large. Never mind the fact that fetish and kink are widespread among straight people as well. Conservative author and podcaster Allie Beth Stuckey, for example, used the occasion to argue that same-sex marriage had paved the way for child genital mutilation and drag queens reading to kids, suggesting that gay couples should never have been granted marriage or adoption rights in the first place. Others implied that Greenwald had “bought” his adopted children and needed to be “delivered” from homosexuality.
The whole affair made something clear: for many on the right, their past tolerance of gay and bi people who aligned with them on a few pet issues was never rooted in principle. It was always about convenience. We were never truly accepted — just temporarily useful. And now that some of us have outlived our political utility, they’re more than happy to throw us to the wolves the moment the opportunity arises.
The conservative movement has a choice to make: will they stay true to their promises of liberty and limited government, or will they use the levers of power to impose their preferred moral order? I joined forces with them because I believed in the former. I fear they are choosing the latter.
Many on the cultural right are forgetting something critical: same-sex marriage doesn’t infringe upon anyone else’s rights. A crucial argument against gender ideology was the infringement on women’s rights. But unlike trans edge cases such as women’s sports or prisons, marriage isn’t a zero-sum issue. There isn’t a finite number of spots on the “marriage team.” My getting married takes nothing away from straight couples. And I will fight for my right to do so just as fiercely as I fought against radical ideologies that threatened other American values.
Conservatives can either stand for freedom, or they can stand for oppression — but they cannot do both. If they truly value individual liberty, they should defend our right to marry. If they turn on us now, they reveal who they really are.
Trump won in 2024 in part due to the left’s overreach. If the right continues down this path, they could meet a similar fate in future elections. As more people come out as LGBT, and as more LGBT people voice concerns with far-left activist orthodoxies, Republicans should be broadening the tent, not excluding these people and pushing them away. Hemorrhaging potential voters to get your druthers isn’t a winning political strategy. The pendulum from hell will just keep swinging back and forth until we all decide we’ve had enough.
/- By Reid Newton
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