Commentary
A skeptic makes peace with marriage
Marriage is either an anachronism or it isn’t.
But maybe that’s too simplistic. Maybe it’s anachronistic for many — at least, the kind of lifelong monogamy of the “happily ever after” romantic ideal.
But maybe for others, it can still work, imperfectly at times, demanding compromises always, but still, the righteous goal of one lifelong commitment, till death do us part. For me, however, the not entirely healed survivor of a bitter divorce, I remain resolutely unsure about remarriage — ever mindful that the 18th century literary giant Samuel Johnson once famously defined it as a triumph of hope over experience.
So mark me down about marriage, gay or straight, as a definite maybe.
After all, what are the odds of hope ever trumping (sometimes) bitter experience? The answer I guess is quite simply contingent — it depends.
But now comes Elizabeth Gilbert, author of the 2006 mega-blockbusting best-seller “EAT, PRAY, LOVE,” a feminist’s bon-bon with 7 million copies sold, still high on the sales charts after more than three years and her two appearances on Oprah Winfrey’s show. And in August Julia Roberts will star as Gilbert in Hollywood’s retelling of her saga of a nasty divorce at age 30, followed by a journey of depression, disastrous rebound affairs and then eventual recovery while visiting in Italy luxuriating in language and cuisine and then chanting and sweating and meditating at an ashram in India and finally traveling to Bali where she met the love of her life, the man she calls Felipe in her new book, just published, titled “COMMITTED: A Skeptic Makes Peace With Marriage.”
But Felipe — she attempts to keep him veiled by a pseudonym but she also acknowledges he is, really, Jose Nunes — is from a different culture and generation. He is Brazilian-born but an Australian citizen and he is 17 years her senior. But like her, like so many of us in fact, Felipe is a survivor of a bitter divorce. And “EAT, PRAY, LOVE” ends with them in love but each vowing never, ever to remarry — each other or anyone else. The pain, quite simply, of that marital experience is too awful still for hope to flower in its ashes.
Fate intervenes, however, in the form of a U.S. Homeland Security agent when the two try to return to the U.S. where they have sought to live without benefit of a marriage license as a couple swearing never to write down personal vows on a legal document. For marriage is an instrument of the state, replete with fine print concerning property and offspring, but in the modern era a vessel also for soul mates finding one another and mating with a sacred vow — let no man or woman tear asunder — for all eternity.
Felipe is barred re-entry at the Dallas International Airport and the only chance he has of returning to their home in New Jersey is as her husband. Therefore they are, in her jokey aside, “sentenced to marry.” But until the necessary papers for such a visa can be obtained — something that will take months — they decide to travel mainly in Southeast Asia and live cheaply while getting to know one another as they each contemplate taking the step neither had wanted, namely wedding vows and a marriage license. The result of her quest for an answer is this new book.
But what does the book have to say about same-sex marriage. It turns out, a lot.
Recently Gilbert addressed the issue head-on in a D.C. book tour appearance, as well as on the Diane Rehm public radio show, but it also leaps right off the pages of her book. “Legalized same-sex marriage is coming to America” she declares and then adds, “in large part, this is because NON-legalized same-sex marriage is already here,” noting also that the 2010 U.S. Census, in forms arriving in our mailboxes next month, will for the first time document same-sex couples alongside heterosexual married couples.
This is true, she says, even though right-wing homophobes will obtain, as in the California vote on Proposition 8, temporary victories, and though traditionalist Christians claim to want to strengthen marriage by denying it to gay people.
National Marriage Week, in fact, was Feb. 7-14 for these marriage-revivalists but no gays need apply. Except sometime next month, thanks to action by the D.C. City Council and Mayor Fenty, it is coming to the District anyway.
And nationwide, says Gilbert, “the federal courts will eventually get fed up,” just as happened in 1967 with Loving v. Virginia when the Supreme Court unanimously struck down laws against interracial marriage. She sees marriage as “a secular concern, not a religious one,” noting that “the objection to gay marriage is almost invariably biblical — but nobody’s legal vows in this country are defined by interpretation of biblical verse.”
“Ultimately, then, it is the business of America’s courts, not America’s churches, to decide the rules of matrimonial law, and it is in those courts that the same-sex marriage debate will finally be settled.”
Legal marriage, she concedes, may be hard for individuals to endure successfully but it “restrains sexual promiscuity and yokes people to their social obligations” and as such “is an essential building block of any orderly community — and is also good for children who ideally at least will be reared in intact families.
But speaking in D.C. last month on her book tour she also said that “we’re entering the era of ‘wifeless’ marriages, where every woman I know wants to be married but nobody wants to be a ‘wife.” In addition, she is unalterably opposed to the idea of “soul mate” — what she calls the “Jerry Maguire fantasy” of “you complete me.” Instead she proudly declares, “I own my incompleteness.”
But is there a difference between completeness and wholeness? Listen to the song “In a Very Unusual Way,” from the 1982 Broadway show “Nine,” as sung by Nicole Kidman on screen: “Since the first day that I met you, how could I ever forget you / Once you had touched my soul? / In a very unusual way, you make me whole.”
Suppose it’s true that unlike completion, wholeness differs in that it is neither confined nor static but open, growing, organic, emerging. Suppose, indeed, that marriage proponents can learn something from gay men — for it is gay men and not lesbians that are relevant here. Suppose gay men are in fact leading the way — as Gilbert opines — in saving marriage for at least some straight people by reframing it as an open relationship?
True, the fetishism of monogamy may persist forever for many, and its hold seems deeply embedded in some cultures — though not in others and certainly not in what is sometimes quaintly called “the animal kingdom.”
On the verge of attaining legal same-sex marriage in D.C., let us conclude with findings from recent social science. Two studies reveal that many gay men appear to thrive in open relationships. One of the studies, just published by San Francisco State University, looked over the course of three years at 556 male couples, of whom half had mutually agreed to outside sexual experiences. The other study (2009) looked only at gay male couples in long-term relationships (together for eight years or longer) who maintained consensual open relationships. Three quarters of those couples felt that outside sex had no negative impact on their primary connections.
In other words, the monogamous model itself may eventually crumble for some (but not all), and marriage may become redefined by gay men for all people as an open door to a different option (for some at least): that is, enduring love made “whole,” yet not complete, with emotional primacy but also sexual variety. Call it still marriage, then, but also “open” — in other words, just “in a very unusual way.”
Elizabeth Gilbert, by the way, would agree.
David J. Hoffman is a local writer and regular contributor to DC Agenda. Reach him at [email protected].
Commentary
A conversation about queers and class
As a barback, I see our community’s elitism up close

In the bar, on the way to its now-Instafamous bathrooms, there’s a sign that reads, “queer & trans liberation means economic justice for all.”
I remember seeing that sign the first week the bar opened, and ever since I often find myself reflecting on that message. I stand fully in agreement. That’s why laws protecting queers in the workplace are essential, for far too often we are targeted otherwise. It’s also why I love working at the bar, since it provides opportunities for queers from all over the spectrum to earn a living. At a time when I gave myself space to pursue art, it was the bar that enabled me to do so.
It’s one thing to support the LGBTQ community in spirit, but that spirit means jack in a capitalist society if viable economic opportunities don’t exist. Speaking of jack, there’s a fellow barback named Jack who I fangirl over often. Jack is a decade younger than me, but damn I wish I had his sex appeal at his age (or any age, for that matter). He also has a mustache that easily puts mine to shame.
Jack not only agrees but took things one step further. “Economic inequality IS a queer issue,” he told me, “especially as we move into the most uncertain period of American politics I have ever lived through, it is apparent our identity is now a fireable offense.”
Uncertain is right. We’re fresh off the heels of a trade bonanza, one caused for literally no reason by our current commander in chief. Yet there emerged a strange division when discussing the trade war’s “unintended” consequences. For working class comrades like Jack and myself, we’re stressed about increasing prices in an already tough economy. But the wealthier echelons of our country had something else on their mind: the spiraling stock market. This alone highlights the story of our economic divide, where the same event produces two separate concerns for two distinct classes.
This is not to say the stock market is not important, but sometimes the media forget many Americans don’t own stock at all, including a vast majority of people between 18 and 29. In fact, according to Axios, the wealthiest 10 percent of Americans own 93 percent of the entire stock market, with the richest 1 percent holding $25 trillion — that’s right, trillion with a “t” — in market value. So, when the president reversed course on trade, it was less about high prices hurting everyday Americans and more about the dent created in the wealth of the wealthiest. And I’ll admit: that bothers me a lot.
If there is any takeaway from Trump’s trade war, it should be this: Economic inequality is the highest it has been in decades and, if left unchecked, will destroy the fabric of our country. We are steadily moving toward oligarchy status—if we’re not there already, that is—and it seems to grow worse with each passing year and administration. But in a city of D.C. gays who often skew corporate, I wonder: Are we all on the same page here?
After becoming a barback, I have my doubts. From questions about what else I do, to comments encouraging me to work hard so that I can be a bartender one day, I quickly learned the gay world is not too fond of barbacking. Barebacking, sure, but not barbacking. And hey, I get it—we’re not the alcohol hookup at the bar. Still, we are part of the service industry, and while some people are incredibly kind, you’d be surprised at how many turn up their noses at us, too.
Recently, I’ve come to realize my class defines me as much as my orientation does, if not more. Naturally, when you come from a rough neck of the woods like I do, it’s easy to feel out of place in a flashy city like D.C., which Jack noticed, too. “Anyone from a working class background could testify to that,” he said. “I don’t really know anyone from true upper class backgrounds, but I’d imagine their experience is one that leans into assimilation.”
Assimilation is a key word here, for admittedly gays love to play with the elite. Often, we don’t have children, meaning more money for the finer things in life, but that also means we may not think about future generations much, either. I’ve written before that our insecurity growing up has us ready to show the world just how powerful gays can be—power that comes in trips to Coachella and Puerto Vallarta, or basking in the lavish houses and toys we own. There’s already a joke that gays run the government, and corporate gays kick ass at their jobs as well. So, given the choice between fighting inequality and keeping a high-paying job, I must admit I have a hard time seeing where D.C. gays stand.
Admittedly, it worked out in our favor before, given that many corporations catered to our economic prowess over the years. But look at what’s happening now: Many corporations have kicked us to the curb. Protections are being stripped from queers, particularly for our trans brothers and sisters. Law firms are bowing down to Trump, offering hundreds of millions in legal fees just for their bottom line. All of this will hurt both queers and the working class in the long run, so again I ask: Corporate gays, where do you stand? Because if you remain complicit, that’s bad news for us all.
I don’t want to sound accusatory, and I hate being a doomsday type, so allow me to end this on a better note. Strength is not about celebrating when times are good. Arguably, true strength emerges when times get tough. These are tough times, my friends, but that also makes now the perfect opportunity to show the world just how strong we are.
At a time when the world is pressuring us to turn our backs on each other, we must defy them to show up when it counts. Corporate gays—now more than ever, at a time when the economy is turning its back on queers, we need you. We need you to stand up for the queer community. We need you to make sure no one gets left behind. We need you to show up for us, so that we can show up for you, too.
Ten years ago, the economy didn’t turn queer out of nowhere. The economy turned queer because we made it turn queer.
And if we did it once, surely we can do it again.
Jake Stewart is a D.C.-based writer and barback.
Commentary
Fight against TERFs goes global
UK Supreme Court on April 17 ruled legal definition of ‘woman’ limited to ‘biological sex’

After last week’s U.K. Supreme Court ruling that reduced the legal definition of “woman” to “biological sex,” footage of a group of women celebrating the decision with champagne spread virally across the media. These women are known as trans-exclusionary radical feminists, or TERFs.
In response, thousands of transgender people and their allies — including parents, siblings, and pro-trans celebrities — flooded the streets of London, Sheffield, Manchester, Cardiff, and other cities across the U.K. on April 19, to protest the erosion of trans rights. The fight between TERFs and trans* people have become more visible to those outside of the British LGBTQ+ community.
But this isn’t just about the U.K. The problem has gone global. For me, as an openly trans person who has lived in four different countries, it feels deeply personal.
For years, British TERFs have been spreading misinformation about gender around the globe, collaborating with far-right politicians and inspiring anti-trans violence.
At a pro-trans protest I attended in Sheffield, one of the speakers, Sofia Alatorre, a trans woman from Mexico now living in the U.K., dedicated her speech to the ways British TERFs, with their powerful movement supported by celebrities, such as “Harry Potter” author JK Rowling, are influencing people in South America.
“When I go to Mexico now, I don’t just hear people talking about transsexuals as degenerates anymore. Instead I hear about what bathroom we should use, or whether we belong in sports,” Sofia told the Washington Blade. “These are not lines that come from Mexico. They are finely crafted narratives designed to drive a wedge by weaponizing ‘common sense’ gut reactions to complicated subjects. Because without these, they’d have to face the uncomplicated reality: We are just people trying to live our lives happily. In the U.K., the entire media infrastructure is sympathetic with ‘gender critical’ TERF ideology to the point that sympathy blurs into outright support. With these lines finding footing in the Global South, it seems clear that the U.K. has become an exporter of transphobia.”
Unfortunately, TERFs even showed up at a trans event, attempting to argue with the speakers.
One of the trans* organizers of the Sheffield demonstration, who preferred to remain anonymous, expressed their love for the trans* community and trans* people. They emphasized that they are not expressing hatred toward TERFs — they simply want them to reconsider their position.
“If you’re a TERF and reading this, we don’t hate you,” they said. “We don’t hate you. There is nothing I hold in my heart but deep pity for you. You do not know the community of love that we have as transsexuals, and you only know your community of hatred. If you are tired of feeling nothing but hate, come and talk to us, we’re nice, I promise. This protest is a rallying cry that we can’t lose, that we are all here for each other, and that we can do whatever the f*ck we want when we work together. We may be out here today in rage, but what keeps us alive is love.”
But it doesn’t seem like TERFs are ready to show love toward trans people — or to see trans women as their sisters. At our local protest in Sheffield, they were so agitated, jumping toward speakers and trying to engage with them, that the police had to intervene and remove them to prevent a fight. It reminded me of TERFs’ behavior I encountered in St. Petersburg, Russia, and in Russian-language online spaces.
Unfortunately, it’s not just South America that has been influenced by UK TERFs. The country I currently live in is known within European and U.S. queer communities as “TERF Island.”
Some trans Americans even avoid traveling to the U.K., afraid of the influence that Rowling holds over millions due to her wealth and cultural impact.
In Russia, Ukraine, and other Eastern European countries, so-called “radical feminism” is the most prominent feminist movement. Radical feminism, which emerged in the 1960s, is based on the belief that patriarchy is the root of all other forms of oppression.
In modern Eastern Europe, this has led to a situation where many feminists fail to acknowledge racism, ableism, and transphobia — excluding everyone except cisgender people, Slavic, atheist, and able-bodied people from their movement. Historically, radical feminists have not focused much on the trans* community, but with the rise of trans* activism in the 2000s, many became fixated on targeting trans people.
Many of my Russian-speaking trans friends have been badly bullied by local TERFs. Some even experienced suicidal thoughts and severe anxiety due to online harassment from them. And these TERFs weren’t developing their ideology locally — they were importing it. The anti-man rhetoric was inherited from American prominent radical feminists like Andrea Dworkin and Ti-Grace Atkinson, while the transphobic elements were “exported” to Eastern Europe, primarily from the U.K. and specifically Scotland.
Even before Rowling, there was Magdalen Berns, a Scottish TERF YouTuber who was extremely popular among Russian girls and women. It was Berns who helped bring Rowling into anti-trans activism.
I spoke with Sophie Molly, a Scottish trans activist and politician who ran as an Independent MP candidate in the 2024 U.K. general election for the Aberdeen South constituency.
TERFs ruthlessly harassed her during her campaign.
“Transphobia is institutionalized in the UK. It is systemic and it’s getting worse with each passing day” she told me. “Local TERF have a slew of legal professionals on their team too. Like Sarah Phillimore and Joanne Cherry. TERFs have been continually lobbying the government to oppress trans and gender non-conforming people. Dragging their rights and freedoms through the courts. All under the pretense of protecting the rights of women. In reality these conservative groups are backed and funded by billionaires. Billionaires that want to remove trans people from public life, due a personal prejudice they hold. The majority of TERFs are wealthy and privileged white women. Most of them are not LGBTQIA+. They have obscene amounts of money to spend on persecuting a tiny minority. Trans women are women — no matter what the U.K. Supreme Court dictates.”
But another problem of TERFs is that they are policing women as well. Even the Supreme Court decision targeted women.
“The [Supreme Court] decision is an attack on the rights of both trans people and women,” Sophie said. “It reduces women to their anatomy, which is extremely regressive and misogynistic in my opinion”
Women for decades have fought to ensure their lives wouldn’t be defined by the sexual organs they were born with. TERFs are now doing exactly that — attempting to reduce womanhood to biology, while also dictating how women should behave, all in the name of “sisterhood.”
Modern British TERFs have received support from figures like musician, far-right influencer, and convicted murderer Varg Vikernes, as well as ultra-conservative organizations such as the Russian Orthodox Church, an institution notorious not only for justifying the war in Ukraine with homophobic rhetoric but also for its long history of opposing women’s rights. This kind of “feminism” is a global threat, not only to trans* people but also to girls and women everywhere.
Editor’s note: The author uses trans* in order to be inclusive of nonbinary and gender queer people.
Commentary
America’s detransition: The far-right’s coordinated attack on climate policy and trans rights
Progress framed as ‘mistake that must be undone’

What if the far-right’s endgame isn’t just stopping progress, but erasing it altogether? From banning trans healthcare to reversing climate policies, they aren’t just resisting change — they’re trying to force the world back into an imaginary past that never existed.
Across climate policy and trans rights, the right isn’t just opposing change — it’s actively detransitioning America, unraveling progress under the guise of “common sense” and “restoring order.” But this isn’t just about ideology. It’s about power.
From pulling out of the Paris Agreement to banning gender-affirming healthcare, the right has perfected a political strategy that frames progress as a mistake that must be undone. Whether it’s climate action or trans visibility, any step toward justice is framed as dangerous, unnatural, and in need of correction.
And if we look closer, these attacks aren’t just similar — they are deeply connected. By comparing the right’s climate rollbacks and its war on trans rights, we can see a broader strategy at work: One that fuels fear, manufactures doubt, and ultimately serves the interests of those already in control.
The fight isn’t just about policy. It’s about who gets to belong in the future.
The manufactured crisis: Who profits from reversal?
To justify rolling back both trans rights and climate protections, the right leans on manufactured crises — presenting change as a dangerous social experiment gone wrong. And the most effective way to do that? Weaponizing doubt.
Take climate change. Despite overwhelming scientific consensus, climate denialists cherry-pick uncertainties — using rare instances of changing climate models to cast doubt on the entire field.
Similarly, the right has latched onto detransition stories, amplifying a handful of cases where individuals regret transitioning to suggest that all trans people will regret their identities.
By focusing on individual regret rather than systemic realities, these movements create the illusion that climate action and trans healthcare are harmful mistakes rather than necessary progress. The message is clear: We must “correct” these wrongs by detransitioning the country back to a time before this supposed damage occurred.
But who actually benefits from this rollback?
- Fossil fuel companies profit from climate skepticism, ensuring we remain dependent on dirty energy.
- Right-wing politicians fundraise off anti-trans fearmongering while avoiding economic issues that might actually improve people’s lives.
By making people believe they are “fighting back” against elites, the right obscures the actual elites profiting from this manufactured outrage.
The spectacle: Turning trans lives and climate policy into distractions
None of this would work without media spectacle. Right-wing politicians and media outlets know that the most effective way to keep people from questioning power is to keep them emotionally invested in a performance.
Take the far right’s obsession with trans youth. They flood the airwaves with panic over puberty blockers, despite the fact that gender-affirming care is exceedingly rare.
A peer-reviewed study analyzing private insurance claims found that out of more than 5 million adolescents ages 8 to 17, only 926 received puberty blockers and 1,927 received hormone therapy between 2018 and 2022.
Similarly, climate policies are attacked as elitist schemes to control the working class — painting green energy initiatives as an attack on personal freedom, just as gender-affirming care is framed as an attack on children.
By shifting the focus onto symbolic enemies — the “radical trans activist” or the “climate elitist” — the right gives people someone to hate while avoiding the real sources of economic and environmental crisis.
And this isn’t just a cultural strategy. It’s a business model.
Capitalism is in the business of creating problems, then selling solutions.
- Oil companies push carbon capture technology while continuing to pollute — ensuring the crisis is never fully solved, only managed.
- The right promotes “detransition support” while banning trans healthcare, creating a crisis where one didn’t exist.
Both strategies ensure that nothing actually changes, while making people feel like they’re participating in a fight for freedom.
It’s a distraction, and it’s working.
Nature as a battleground: The far-right’s fear of fluidity
At its core, the war on trans people and the war on climate action stem from the same fear: The fear of change.
Queer ecology tells us that nature itself is fluid, adaptive, and in constant transition. Yet, the far-right insists on rigid, binary categories:
- Man/Woman.
- Fossil Fuels/Renewables.
- Traditional/Disruptive.
In both cases, fluidity is framed as unnatural — something that must be controlled through political intervention.
- Fossil fuels are labeled “natural” energy, while renewables are framed as “forced” and “unnatural”—a rhetorical tactic explored in a 2025 study on far-right climate discourse.
- Trans identities are labeled “unnatural choices,” requiring government bans to prevent people from making “mistakes.”
But what’s truly unnatural? The attempt to freeze society in time. The climate has always changed. Gender has always been fluid. The far-right isn’t defending nature — they’re defending control.
The far-right’s detransition obsession mirrors climate rollbacks
Capitalism is not interested in actual progress — it only cares about control.
The obsession with detransition mirrors climate rollbacks in that both are framed as necessary corrections to a mistake.
- The Paris Agreement withdrawal was presented as a return to “energy independence.”
- Trans bans are framed as returning to “biological reality.”
But the goal isn’t returning to a real past. It’s about constructing a version of the past that justifies present oppression.
- Climate denial isn’t about scientific debate — it’s about maintaining corporate power, as Time reported in 2025.
- Anti-trans laws aren’t about protecting kids — they’re about enforcing gender hierarchies, according to a 2025 New York Times editorial.
Neither of these rollbacks is accidental. They are part of a deliberate strategy of control — one that tells us that progress is always temporary and can always be reversed.
Who owns the future?
If we allow the right to detransition America, we risk a world where progress is always reversible, and power remains in the hands of those who benefit from disorder and fear.
The real question isn’t whether these issues are linked — it’s why they were ever separated to begin with. The fights for climate justice and trans rights are one and the same:
- A fight against the illusion of permanence.
- A fight against manufactured crisis and controlled reversal.
- A fight for a future that actually belongs to all of us.
So what do we do?
- We must refuse to accept their manufactured doubt — trans rights and climate action are not mistakes that need fixing.
- We must reject their false nostalgia — there is no past to return to, only a future to create.
- And most importantly, we must recognize that these struggles are connected.
If we fail to see this, we risk allowing reactionary forces to shape the future. But if we understand their playbook, we can disrupt the spectacle and refuse to let them dictate what comes next.
Because this fight isn’t about going back. It’s about moving forward — and making sure no one can take that future away.
Cody Hays is a Ph.D. student at Arizona State University’s Walter Cronkite School, researching media psychology, public understanding of science, and digital misinformation, with a focus on ideological worldviews; they are a Graduate Research Fellow in the MIDaS and Views and Values Labs, executive editor of the Journal of Public Interest Communications, and a nonprofit communications strategist with over a decade of experience in combating disinformation and mobilizing action.