Opinions
‘Why is my life still worth living?’
Gays in Lebanon face threats from family, colleagues

Beirut, Lebanon (Photo by Shakeeb Al-Jabri; courtesy Wikimedia Commons)
By ANONYMOUS
(Editor’s note: The Washington Blade granted anonymity to the author due to personal safety concerns.)
Living in fear, in fear of being outed, in fear of being kicked out of your house, in fear of being fired from your job, in fear of being jailed, in fear of being denied by your parents, in fear of being killed — killed by your own family. This is what life is for a gay man in Lebanon. And despite all of that, I decided to hang on, I went to school, handled all the bullying from my colleagues, crying every night before going to sleep.
Those were the first 17 years of my life until I graduated from school and went to the university. Seventeen years that most of the people my age wish they could bring back, while I wish to erase them from my memory.
At university, the situation was a little bit different and more acceptable since it was an American-system institution. After four years of study at college, I graduated and the road to real life began. It was at the time that I accepted my sexuality and understood that it is part of me, something to be grateful for, my identity, the source of love and attraction in my life. But unfortunately I was unable to share this truth with “almost” anyone else. I understood and loved myself but was never able to extend this feeling to someone else.
You could say that the most important thing is to first love and understand yourself, and this could be enough. But it is not the case where I live. Imagine hearing your father say: “If I had a gay son, I would kill him with my own hands.” Or hearing your mother say: “I would shoot my kids if I knew someone is gay.”
Imagine going everyday to work and hearing conversations about how your colleagues are unable to understand how “two men or two women can love each other” or “how do they fuck each other and how disgusting such an act could be” and how “we can never have friends that are sick like that.” Imagine hearing the only friend that you have and the only person that you came out to say, “I don’t support killing gays but I think those people should be put on an island by themselves and separated from other humans.” Imagine that you came out to a person that you trusted and it turned out he’s not a real friend, and now you are obliged to cater to his needs continuously, with no objection, just to protect yourself from being outed to your colleagues, and most importantly, to your family, and consequently being killed.
How does it feel?
Sometimes I think that I’m unworthy of living, that it would be better for me to die, to kill myself with my own hands. When I look around me, and see that the priests and religious people who preach about love and tolerance are the ones that incite hatred against us, when I see that the whole government is standing against us, when I see that our teachers are our enemies, when I see that my colleagues at work reject us, when I see that my own family, from flesh and blood, is ready to kill me if they knew about my “feelings,” about my “heart,” I ask myself why is my life still worth living?
But I go back and think again. I watch the world. I see that in the most powerful country in the world, people like me are able to get married. I see that in almost all the developed countries of the world, people like me are successful, are able to love and be loved, are amazing and unique. I watch the CEOs of the biggest companies, the brave and courageous journalists of the biggest media chains — they have the same feelings and the same heart as I and they are amazing.
It’s when I see those people that I feel that I have a small hope of breaking out of the jail where I’m living and find freedom and happiness in my life. Although I keep it all for myself, but this is the way that I learned that I am normal, I am lovable, and I CAN be FREE.
It makes me sad that I am writing in an anonymous identity just to protect myself from harm because of my dangerous environment. But trust me, if I was safe, and if I was living in any country where my rights would be protected, I would scream out loud that I am extremely proud of my feelings with which I was born. To all the LGBT people who are living in fear in countries where they may get killed or harmed, or bullied, maybe you are unable to come out to anyone just like me, but please do not hate yourself as they want you to do. You have to know and understand that you should be proud of yourselves. Those who are standing against you are the corrupted, the evil, and the unmerciful. Do not slide down to their level.
And let’s hope together that someday it will get better and we will be able to live our lives freely, to contribute to our society, be rewarded and treated fairly from our governments, and above all, find the love of our life and live it fully as we dream.
Commentary
Second ‘lavender scare’ is harming our veterans. We know how to fix it
Out in National Security has built Trans Veterans State and Local Policy Toolkit
Seventy years after the first “lavender scare” drove LGBTQ Americans from public service, a second version is taking shape. Executive directives and administrative reviews have targeted transgender servicemembers and veterans, producing a new wave of quiet separations and lost benefits.
The policy language is technical, but the result is personal. Veterans who served honorably now face disrupted healthcare, delayed credentials, or housing barriers that no act of Congress ever required. Once again, Americans who met every standard of service are being told that their identity disqualifies them from stability.
Out in National Security built the Trans Veterans State and Local Policy Toolkit to change that. The toolkit gives state and local governments a practical path to repair harm through three measurable actions.
First, continuity of care. States can keep veterans covered by adopting presumptive Medicaid eligibility, aligning timelines with VA enrollment, and training providers in evidence-based gender-affirming care following the World Professional Association for Transgender Health Standards of Care Version 8.
Second, employment, and licensing. Governors and boards can recognize Department of Defense credentials, expedite licensing under existing reciprocity compacts, and ensure nondiscrimination in state veterans’ employment statutes.
Third, housing stability. States can designate transgender-veteran housing liaisons, expand voucher access, and enforce fair-housing protections that already exist in law.
Each step can be taken administratively within 90 days and requires no new federal legislation. The goal is straightforward: small, state-level reforms that yield rapid, measurable improvement in veterans’ daily lives.
The toolkit was introduced during a Veterans Week event hosted by the Center for American Progress, where federal and state leaders joined Out in National Security to highlight the first wave of state agencies adopting its recommendations. The discussion underscored how targeted, administrative reforms can strengthen veterans’ healthcare, employment, and housing outcomes without new legislation. Full materials and implementation resources are now available at outinnationalsecurity.org/public-policy/toolkit, developed in partnership with Minority Veterans of America, the Modern Military Association of America, SPARTA Pride, and the Human Rights Campaign.
These are technical fixes, but they carry moral weight. They reaffirm a basic democratic promise: service earns respect, not suspicion.
As a policy professional who has worked with veterans across the country, I see this moment as a test of civic integrity. The measure of a democracy is not only who it allows to serve but how it treats them afterward.
The second “lavender scare” will end when institutions at every level decide that inclusion is an obligation, not an exception. The toolkit offers a way to begin.
For more information or to access the toolkit once it is public, visit outinnationalsecurity.org/toolkit.
Lucas F. Schleusener is the CEO of Out in National Security.
For years, the far right has relied on a familiar infrastructure to wage its political battles: coordinated legal networks, back-channeled money, and an ever-growing pipeline of model legislation that moves quietly from one statehouse to another. What used to be a fringe ecosystem of activist lawyers has matured into something far more muscular. Today, the attacks on LGBTQ Americans—especially transgender people—are not random. They are designed, drafted, and deployed by a disciplined constellation of groups that understand how to move legislation with precision. And if Democrats, civil rights advocates, and national LGBTQ organizations continue treating each bill as an isolated outrage rather than a unified offensive, this machine will keep outpacing them.
Most Americans have never heard of outfits like the Alliance Defending Freedom, the American Principles Project, the Leadership Institute’s law arm, or the network of state-based policy shops that orbit the Heritage Foundation. But these entities now function as the shadow authors of state legislation. The anti-trans sports bans that appeared in more than 20 states did not arise organically; they were cloned from drafts circulated by ADF attorneys. The same is true for bills restricting gender-affirming care, limiting name and pronoun accommodations in schools, or expanding “religious liberty” carve-outs that allow discrimination against LGBTQ employees or customers. Legislators often change a few words, swap in a local sponsor, and reintroduce the same provisions session after session — giving the impression of momentum when, in reality, only a handful of ideologues are writing the nation’s culture-war script.
The operational model is simple: produce a bill, partner with a state-level think tank, recruit a legislator to introduce it, and provide legal testimony to defend it. But the strategic sophistication lies upstream. These groups have spent years cultivating relationships with attorneys general, state solicitors, and conservative judges who are sympathetic to their worldview. They draft legislation with litigation in mind, anticipating which language will survive scrutiny before the federal courts they have worked diligently to remake. They treat policy, politics, and jurisprudence as a seamless ecosystem; meanwhile, LGBTQ advocates are forced to fight on three fronts at once, often with smaller budgets and no comparable network of state-by-state affiliates.
What is most striking now is the acceleration. Bills that used to be test-driven in one or two states are being introduced in a dozen simultaneously. After the Supreme Court’s Dobbs decision, the same legal strategists pushing abortion bans pivoted almost immediately toward restricting trans health care, framing puberty blockers and hormone therapy as “sterilization.” The rhetorical shift was not accidental. It was a deliberate legal construction designed to open the door to future Fourteenth Amendment challenges, should the movement secure a case capable of reaching the Supreme Court. This is not simply a legislative fight; it is the groundwork for long-term judicial warfare.
And yet, Democrats and even national LGBTQ groups often treat these measures as if they were spontaneous outbursts of local prejudice. That is politically naïve. The reason similar bills appear in Idaho, Florida, Tennessee, Kansas, and Ohio at the same time is because they originate from the same set of PDFs stored on the same servers belonging to the same legal networks. The far right has embraced an industrial model of anti-LGBTQ policymaking: mass production, rapid deployment, and coordinated amplification by media channels that echo the same talking points across state lines.
The consequence is that the burden falls on queer people themselves—especially trans people—to respond to an avalanche of bills, hearings, lawsuits, and administrative changes that no individual or small advocacy team can fully track. When you have a network of attorneys feeding language to legislators, drafting amicus briefs, and preparing future litigation strategies in advance, you create an asymmetry that is difficult to counter with reactive press releases or one-off legal challenges. This imbalance of power is not about public opinion, which still supports LGBTQ equality by wide margins. It is about institutional positioning. The far right has placed its lawyers where the pressure points are: in state AG offices, in coordinated legislative caucuses, in judicial clerkships, and in the nonprofit legal trenches where issue fights are shaped long before the public hears about them.
There is a path forward, but it requires abandoning the old model of treating each bill as a separate emergency. LGBTQ organizations need a unified, long-range strategy that mirrors the discipline of the groups attacking them. That means state-by-state legal surveillance, rapid drafting of counter-model legislation, formal partnerships with progressive state AGs, and a standing litigation coalition capable of anticipating—not just responding to—legal threats. It also means investing in local leaders who understand that these bills are symptoms of a national machine, not quirks of their hometown politics.
What’s at stake here is nothing less than the architecture of civil rights in the United States. The far right is attempting to rewrite the legal landscape through volume and repetition, hoping courts will eventually treat these contrived bills as reflections of a shifting national consensus. They are betting that if they introduce enough legislation, in enough states, for enough years, the judiciary will reinterpret LGBTQ equality not as a settled constitutional principle but as a contested social question that can be narrowed or rolled back. Their ultimate goal is not just to restrict trans rights today but to lay the doctrinal groundwork for limiting LGBTQ protections for a generation.
The community can still win this fight, but only if it sees the battlefield clearly. These bills are not local skirmishes—they are coordinated acts of legal engineering. And it is time the pro-equality movement built an equally coordinated system to match them.
Isaac Amend is a writer based in the D.C. area. He is a transgender man and was featured in National Geographic’s ‘Gender Revolution’ documentary. He serves on the board of the LGBT Democrats of Virginia. Contact him on Instagram at @isaacamend
Opinions
Everything is Everything
Transformer’s 21st Annual Benefit Art Auction & Gala at the LINE DC November 19, 2025
In Washington, DC, art has never existed in isolation—it thrives where people gather and create. Art isn’t an accessory to the city’s identity—it’s foundational to it. This city was designed by artists, built by craftsmen, and has been continuously shaped by creative vision for more than two centuries. While other American cities grew organically around commerce or geography, Washington was imagined first, drawn by hand, and constructed as a deliberate artistic expression of democratic ideals. The result is a living gallery where public art doesn’t just reflect our history; it actively shapes how we understand citizenship, memory, and identity.
For 23 years, Transformer has been a cornerstone of DC’s contemporary art scene, committed to uplifting emerging and underrepresented artists who challenge boundaries and engage audiences with new experimental artistic concepts. On November 22, 2025, Transformer will host Everything is Everything, our 21st Annual Benefit Art Auction & Gala at the LINE DC, a night dedicated to celebrating the power of connection through art, performance, and community.
Everything is Everything is an extension of our non-profit organization’s cutting-edge vision, bringing together artists across different mediums, aesthetics, and walks of life. This philosophy embraces interconnectedness: where art, identity, and community are a part of the same living fabric. The gala brings together hundreds of people to celebrate art & artists, featuring over 140+ artworks in a public exhibition available for silent bidding. Guests also enjoy our innovative Artist Activated Experiences Lounge, featuring immersive installations by DC based queer artists Bumper, Katie Magician, Div0id, JaxKnife Complex, Stitches DC, Hennessey and Kunj.
In a time when queer and drag performers face renewed cultural and legislative attacks, Everything is Everything affirms that freedom of expression is not optional—it’s essential. Our “Celebration of DC Club Kids” pays tribute to DC’s legendary Club Kids and nightlife culture—those radiant spaces that have long nurtured queer creativity, self-expression, and freedom. Produced at the Gala in collaboration with queer artist collective haus of bambi, this performance honors our city’s history while celebrating the diversity and creativity that will continue to shape its future. Everything is Everything culminates in a show-stopping performance by iconic New York City based performance artist, cabaret singer, and drag artist Joey Arias.
As Transformer’s Everything is Everything Gala Committee, we’ve experienced firsthand how artists in DC transform spaces, challenge norms, and build community. The Gala is a celebration of that creativity and resilience. It is also a crucial act of support: proceeds from the Everything is Everything Benefit Art Auction & Gala directly supports artists while sustaining Transformer’s year-round exhibitions and programs that elevate emerging artists and arts leaders within DC and beyond. In doing so, Everything is Everything ensures that experimental and inclusive artistic practice, particularly of queer, trans, and BIPOC artists, continues to thrive.
Because in DC, art isn’t just something we look at—it’s something we live, share, and fight to protect.
Purchase tickets to Everything is Everything, Transformer’s Annual Benefit Art Auction & Gala at onecau.se/everythingiseverything. Learn more about Transformer’s mission at www.transformerdc.org.
- Transformer’s Everything is Everything Gala Committee: Allana D’Amico, Sondra Fein, Theresa Nielson, Jennifer Sakai, Christopher Addison, Monica Alford, Samantha Dean, Samira Farmer, Carole Feld, Celina Gerbic, Ally Helmers, Allison Marvin, Marissa McBride, Tom Noll, Crystal Patterson, Victoria Reis, Dorothy Stein, Emily Strulson, Gregg Tourville, José Alberto Uclés, and Hanna Thompson
