National
Four bisexual women on stereotypes, erasure, representation, and joy
Panel talks coming out, pop culture, and why dating men doesn’t erase queerness
Uncloseted Media published this article on Feb. 7.
By SPENCER MACNAUGHTON, TAYA STRAUSS, and SAM DONNDELINGER | The number of openly LGBTQ American adults has skyrocketed in the past few years, but there’s one group that’s been leading the way: Gen Z women, 20.7 percent of whom are bisexual.
Despite this increase, many bi women still feel deeply misunderstood. To understand this, Uncloseted Media put together a panel of four bisexual women who spoke candidly about coming out, bi erasure and why bisexuality is often treated as a phase or something that disappears the moment a woman dates a man.
Watch the full interview above or read the transcript here:
Spencer Macnaughton: Hi everyone, I’m Spencer Macnaughton and today I am here with a panel of four bisexual women from across the United States. Thank you all so much for speaking with me and Uncloseted today.
Sophie Sandberg: Thanks so much for having us.
SM: So I always like to start with people’s coming out stories. So yeah, does somebody want to tell me their coming out story a little bit, or when you realized you were bi?
SS: I think part of being bisexual was that it was a long coming out story and kind of a long period of coming out. I always dated cis men when I was in middle school and high school. I started having boyfriends really early and was kind of even boy crazy, I would say. But I did always notice these crushes on my friends, on girls, on more queer and androgynous people I was seeing in the media. So, I would say I started noticing it myself in high school and definitely in college, but I didn’t have to come out because I was in serious relationships with cis men and very straight-passing. So I didn’t officially come out to everyone in my life until I was about 23.
SM: And was that like, I know when I was closeted, I’d hook up with girls, but I didn’t want to be hooking up with girls, right? And it stressed me out. But was there a stressor on that? I always wonder if the stress levels are the same or different as somebody who’s bisexual because you can date people you’re still genuinely interested in.
SS: Yeah, that’s a good point, and I think this is something that differs between me and my lesbian friends. They’ll be like, “yeah, I never enjoyed it, I was so unhappy, and then suddenly everything made sense when I came out.” And for me, I did genuinely have love and connection with cis men who I was in relationships with and slept with, but I also did always have this kind of knowledge or curiosity or interest in sleeping with people who weren’t cis men. So I think I was able to kind of have something genuine there, but also was always aware that there was more than just that for me. If that makes sense.
SM: Yeah. Kelly, how about you?
Kellie Wilson: Yeah, so I actually really only realized that I was bi about a year and a half ago, and so I feel a little bit of imposter syndrome being on a bi panel because I’m pretty new to this actually, and it was an interesting realization of learning that one of my friends that I had been growing closer with actually had feelings for myself and my husband. And at the time it was kind of like a, “whoa, I don’t know what to do with this information.” But over the course of the next few weeks and a bit of identity crisis and thinking about my past and my life and things like that, I realized “oh, I have a crush on her too.” And that I’ve probably had crushes on many women because there have been so many people in my life where I’d see them and like, “oh my gosh, they’re just, they are so cool. I love their vibe, they’re so pretty. I really want to be friends with them.” But then most of the time I wouldn’t actually become friends with them because I’d be too nervous when I was around them. There were absolutely signs and it just never clicked because I think, kind of like what you were saying Sophie, I had been in a long-term relationship with a cis man since my freshman year in college, which, he was my first boyfriend, my first everything. We got engaged, we got married, we had kids. And so there was never necessarily … I don’t know, there was no drive or reason for me to be questioning it, and I think part of that was some internalized biphobia from growing up in a very Christian, not fundamentalist, but gayness was of course a sin in the eyes of the church and all these things. It was something that I think I had internalized enough that it never really crossed my mind because I had feelings for cis men, and so it was like, “okay, yeah, I like men, I must be straight.”
Abby Stein: I think it’s a bit more complicated for me just because I’m also trans, and to add more to it, I grew up in a very gender-segregated community. So that played a very big role in this whole conversation. But the first, I guess, let’s call him a boyfriend for now, was in this very religious school. I was in upstate New York, kind of in the middle of nowhere. I guess in some ways it was a coming out but in other ways in my mind I made sense of it by being like “I’m actually a girl.” Then when, I guess when I was 18, I got married, arranged marriage, very much part of my community, to a woman, and I was very into that as well. So it’s hard for me to be like “okay at what point did I realize both of these people have been very interesting and therefore it says something about my sexuality.” I don’t know, I actually am having a hard time to be like the exact moment or even date or year.
SM: Yeah. And how does, obviously coming out as trans, especially in a gender-segregated community is a very tall task that I’m sure is an entirely different conversation, right? Was coming out as bi, did it feel like even a thing after having come out as trans or how did that play into it all?
AS: I think I struggled with it a lot more than with gender. People tell me a lot, “oh, you must have been struggling with your gender.” And I’m like, “no, I don’t know.” I think my gender, I was very comfortable with who I was and knew who I was since I was a child. Sexuality, I think, I’m still figuring out every day exactly what I do and don’t like. And it’s a constant struggle and journey. Not necessarily a struggle, sometimes a struggle. Sometimes a really great adventure. But it’s definitely something that has been, I think, more complicated to me than gender.
Katie Marie: I thought that I was straight for a very long time, thought that I was just an ally. I was married to a man for about 10 years. I had the house, the picket fence, the master’s degree, the job, and I was still very, very unhappy at the end of every day. I am Indigenous. I started leaning back into my spirituality and started to really dig deep into understanding who I am. It was at that moment in time, I had a really beautiful dream. And in that dream, I saw myself with a woman. I didn’t know that she was a woman, funnily enough, I just felt the energy. And I awoke from that dream and immediately turned to the man who was my husband at that moment in time and said, “I think I am interested in women.” Of course, whenever you first come out as bisexual in a situation like that — I was from the South — there are some negative implications that come with saying that you’re bisexual, especially even from the gay community, right? It’s that implication that you can’t choose a side or that you must choose a side or some version of that?
SM: Tell me a little bit about the biggest misconceptions about bisexual women in society specifically. What are the stereotypes, the misconceptions that are perhaps most frustrating for you guys?
KM: For me, I can speak to one. And this was just one that I experienced very quickly was this idea that for some, because I was bisexual, I was going to now have sex with everybody, right? This idea that I can’t choose a side, so I’m just gonna have relations with everyone and I just can’t make up my mind.
SM: A stereotype of promiscuity.
KM: Yes, exactly. That was a big one. And it came through in my marriage, actually, that was one of the initial problems is my husband started assuming that I was going to have sexual relationships with all of my girlfriends. And that became a big barrier for me to have to overcome.
SS: I feel like there’s a misconception, well, one, that bisexual women just want to be with men. I feel like there’s this misogynistic misconception that anyone who’s bisexual actually wants to be with a cis man, whether it’s a bisexual man or a bisexual woman.
SM: Interesting, I didn’t know that.
SS: If you’re a bisexual man you must really want to be with a man and if you are a bisexual woman you probably also just really want to be with a man. But I think in general just, yeah, people not fully understanding that bisexuality is more fluid and open than that.
KW: I think one of the things that I most often see would be on this idea of fluidity in levels of attraction and the bi cycle, right? And this idea that, “oh, it’s just a phase,” if you start off being more attracted to one gender and then it’s shifting over time, that it’s not gonna shift back. Existing in the middle space is not something that can happen. So I’m also biracial. I’m half black, half white, and I think that it’s this consistent theme in society, like, you can’t be both. And I think that’s really pervasive in the idea of stereotypes about bisexual women. You just have to pick one or you’re never gonna be enough of the other to fully fit. And so it’s sometimes easier to just exist in one space or the other. But then the internal experience of that is where it gets more uncomfortable. Like, no, it’s both. It’s absolutely both.
AS: So I’ve definitely had people saying, “oh, your sexuality” — by people I mean, literally my brother just a few weeks ago — “your sexuality is just part of your entire personality that’s just very confused.” And I don’t see it as that. I just don’t think that everything needs to fit in a very neat box. So it all ties into this idea, for me it all makes sense, which is that I like to look at things and constantly explore them and never decide that something has to be a specific way. And it’s like that with my sexuality, it’s that with the way I see my cultural and spiritual practices. And I think that’s beautiful.
SM: Well, I think it’s really interesting what you said. And I think it takes me back to what Kellie was mentioning about the bi cycle, right? Where people can be more interested in men one day, women the next day, anything in between, right? But I also think, Kellie, what you were mentioning is that there’s people who won’t accept that people can live in this gray zone. I could imagine that’s really frustrating.
KW: I don’t understand why people are so caught up on this need to check one box, right? And that you have to fit into one box. Because, I mean, to me, it’s just the most natural thing in the world to exist in this space of both and all the time and to understand that they — and I think everyone else is confused. I don’t understand why there’s this need to think you can only have one thing.
SS: And people wanna snap us back into a heteronormative space. So I think that’s something I experienced a lot early on coming out as bisexual. People saying, “you’re probably really straight, you’re probably gonna end up in a straight relationship, but this is kind of a phase or something you’re just trying out.” So, I think it comes from this heteronormative society that we live in. People just wanting to force us back into that box. And I think that’s what’s so beautiful about bisexuality. It’s constantly moving into the gray space, getting uncomfortable, having to explore and figure ourselves out. Yeah, I love that about bisexuality.
SM: I think I’ve heard before, “not queer enough.” I’ve heard that from bisexual folks as well. And is the reverse sometimes true as well? Can there be biphobia from gay people?
SS: Yes, absolutely, “not queer enough, not actually gay, just a little bit gay, half gay.” I feel like, yeah, this idea of bisexual as one half gay, one half straight has never made any sense to me ‘cause we’re all fully bisexual, that’s who we are. So yeah, that’s always a really frustrating stereotype too.
KW: I have been pretty nervous in terms of coming out to people who I know who are lesbian because of this stigma or this idea that can exist in the lesbian community, this idea of the gold standard, or if you’ve been with men, then you’re somehow tainted, or you’re not actually fully invested in other women and things like that. Or that if you’re with a woman, then you’re just gonna leave them for a man because of these heteronormative biases and things like that. And so I’ve found myself, I think more nervous to come out to people who I know who are lesbian than people who I know are straight.
AS: Just gonna add, and I think it’s very similar to what you’re saying, Kellie, which is this idea that people constantly assume that you’re never gonna be satisfied, whether from gay people, from straight people, from your own partners. Which is very weird to me, because I think even if you’re a straight person, if you have more than one very specific type, which I think a lot of people do, no one assumes, “oh, you’re never gonna be satisfied because this is not all your types in one person.” It’s not how it works.
SM: Again, frustrating too. I wanted to ask specifically, obviously in many societies in the U.S. right now, it’s still dominated, especially in religious areas, of patriarchal governance structures, right? There’s obviously still a lot of misogyny in society at large. How do you find men treat bisexual women differently than straight women, lesbian women, other women?
KW: Women are already so hypersexualized, and then when they find out that you’re bi it’s like this new level you didn’t even know existed of hypersexualization, of like, oh, they’re thinking, threesomes are always the first thought, and “this would be so hot,” and the idea of … what’s the word I’m looking for? Watching people …
SM: Voyeurism?
KW: There we go. Wanting to watch women be with women but then they’re also with you. And so then there’s this heightened level of fantasization that can happen when they find out that you’re bisexual. I noticed it at bars when I was with my husband and my girlfriend at the time and people trying to figure out the nature of your relationship and then, “oh, there’s these two bi women here, this is so hot.”
SM: Do people feel like they have more free rein to say things like that to you, perhaps because you’re bi?
KW: Not even, I think it’s not even saying things to me, but about me to the man, right? So then they’re directing their comments to my husband, like, “oh, you’re so lucky. How did you manage this?” And one, then that strips me of my own autonomy. And so then it’s weird because you’re objectified as this thing that this other man has somehow managed to collect, achieve. Yes, and then they’re not even directed at me. It’s just like I’m there as this object that exists for the satisfaction of the men in this interaction.
SM: It sounds like these men almost characterize it as though you don’t have agency to come out and say, “I am a proud bisexual woman,” but rather it’s your partner, your male partner who activated the bisexuality, which is obviously crazy. All very interesting. I want to talk quickly about pop culture and the media in 2026. Obviously I think — I’m a geriatric millennial here — and I think we’ve come a long way since Katie Perry’s “I kissed a girl and I liked it.” So we have celebrities now coming out as bi, Jojo Siwa, Billie Eilish. It feels like there’s more of a normalization, but I don’t know, I’m curious about the state of media representation of bi women in 2026. Go for it.
KM: For me, I feel like everybody’s gay. And I think that it is beautiful that more celebrities are coming out. It’s showing the natural progression of understanding who we are as beings, as people. Because I think as children, whenever we don’t get the chance to figure out who we are and who we love, and we’re told instead who we are and who we love, then we have a whole group of geriatric millennials figuring out just now, “wait a minute, maybe I’m somebody else.”
AS: There definitely seems to have been a very intentional, which has to do with the moment we’re in and with funding from federal grants and the attack on DEI and so on, that there’s definitely been. Shows that have been filmed over the past year, if that makes sense, seem to be less queer than, I think, what we had five, six years ago. Specifically traditional media, like network TV and the big name studios, are trying to dial back a bit, a lot of queer representation.
KW: I see that too, Abby. And I think that they’re, especially when it comes to bi representation in the media, I feel like it’s still much lower. When I was first realizing that I was bi, I was like, I couldn’t think of hardly anyone that I had seen in a movie or books that I knew that were about bisexuality. I couldn’t think of any. I had to really go and research and go on reddit and do all this googling to find things to watch to see representation.
SM: I do think what’s fascinating is that the Gallup poll came out this year, and it reported that 23 percent of Gen Z respondents self-identified as bisexual. That’s versus a 9 percent average of the population at large, and that’s a 146 percent rise. Why do you guys think young people are coming out so much more as bi?*1
AS: I think a lot of people, at least in religious communities, and I know some people who I grew up [with] who are like this, who are bi, and they would tell me directly, “if I was gay, I would leave this community and just go do my thing. But I’m bi, I made it work, it’s fine, I will be in this straight-passing relationship and it’s fine.” And the more we give people permission to be themselves, the more people are gonna come out. I don’t think suddenly there are more queer people, I think there’s just more people who are not afraid to literally be shunned from their families and societies for coming out as queer. So I think that is a big part of it. But I definitely think the bi part of this specifically is that even though it has been easier — it’s still not easy, but it has gotten easier over the past few decades. And I think that impacts bi people perhaps even more than — it gets harder for lesbians and gay people to choose not to be that, and to choose to be in a straight-passing relationship. If it’s hard to come out, it can be easier for bi people. So as we are making it easier for people to come out, the numbers go up by a lot.
SS: Abby I really agree with you there, I think that’s really interesting. But I also wonder if Gen Z is more flexible with gender identity and just fluidity in general, and I wonder if that creates more space for a bi identity, ‘cause we’re all talking about how bi-ness is fluidity and it has created this space for a gray area. And I think of Gen Z as being very open also with gender identity and being very fluid and accepting. So I wonder if that in turn creates more space for the bisexual identity. Because there’s fluidity in that too, if that makes sense.
SM: No, it definitely does. And I think a lot of what we’ve talked about today has been around, especially in years past, the idea of bi erasure, right? That’s a concept that’s discussed a lot. And I’m curious what you think we can do as a society to make bi erasure less of a problem and something that feels very prevalent still in 2026.
KW: I think the more that we deconstruct the idea that sexuality is a choice, I think the less bi erasure there will be. The idea of sexuality as a choice has been so harmful for the gay community, right? When people who are bi have been like, “oh, I’ve had the gay erased out of me or prayed the gay away” and things like that. This idea that you can have gayness removed has been so harmful. And so there’s that side of it. And then from the straight side of things, there’s no threat of “oh, well, now someone might see me as gay because there’s these people who are both,” you can never prove that you’re just straight or just lesbian. If you take away the need to prove this and take away this idea that it is a choice at all, then that’s where people can have this more accepting perspective of existence.
AS: I just wanna say we need to focus also on joy, bi joy and queer joy and our joy generally, because at the end of the day, it is really cool. I mean, we get to experience so much of the world. I’m not gonna say that people who are not open to all kinds of genders don’t have that, but I definitely think we are experiencing a very fun and very unique part of the world and that’s amazing.
SM: That is a great thing that I absolutely should have asked more about. What are the best parts about being bisexual?
KM: Freedom for me, freedom to love. It gave me a deeper understanding of self. And at the end of the day, I think that that’s what everybody deserves.
SS: I think that bisexuality has allowed me to understand my gender and my queerness differently because of my attractions to different types of people, and I think that’s a beautiful way that bisexuality allows for freedom and yeah, just like feeling more yourself. Also, I was just gonna say we need more representation. This conversation made me realize wow, yeah, I can’t think of a bi character who I found and looked up to, except for like Alice in The L Word, but she was basically within the lesbian community. So, if anyone’s out there listening and is like, “I wanna create an amazing, joyful bi character,” I feel like that would also be very helpful.
KW: I was just gonna echo the freedom piece, and having the freedom to explore and learn so much about myself has been so freeing, and this feeling of wholeness, I think, has been the most joyful thing of realizing there was a whole piece of me that I didn’t even know existed. It’s just been incredible.
SM: Sophie, Kellie, Katie and Abby, I’m so grateful for your time and for sharing all of this with me and Uncloseted Media today. It’s been a really fantastic conversation, so thank you.
KW: Thanks so much for having us.
SS: Thank you.
Florida
Fla. House passes ‘Anti-Diversity’ bill
Measure could open door to overturning local LGBTQ rights protections
The Florida House of Representatives on March 10 voted 77-37 to approve an “Anti-Diversity in Local Government” bill that opponents have called an extreme and sweeping measure that, among other things, could overturn local LGBTQ rights protections.
The House vote came six days after the Florida Senate voted 25-11 to pass the same bill, opening the way to send it to Republican Gov. Ron DeSantis, who supports the bill and has said he would sign it into law.
Equality Florida, a statewide LGBTQ advocacy organization that opposed the legislation, issued a statement saying the bill “would ban, repeal, and defund any local government programming, policy, or activity that provides ‘preferential treatment or special benefits’ or is designed or implemented with respect to race, color, sex, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or gender identity.”
The statement added that the bill would also threaten city and county officials with removal from office “for activities vaguely labeled as DEI,” with only limited exceptions.
“Written in broad and ambiguous language, the bill is the most extreme of its kind in the country, creating confusion and fear for local governments that recognize LGBTQ residents and other communities that contribute to strength and vibrancy of Florida cities,” the group said in a separate statement released on March 10.
The Miami Herald reports that state Sen. Clay Yarborough (R-Jacksonville), the lead sponsor of the bill in the Senate, said he added language to the bill that would allow the city of Orlando to continue to support the Pulse nightclub memorial, a site honoring 49 mostly LGBTQ people killed in the 2016 mass shooting at the LGBTQ nightclub.
But the Equality Florida statement expresses concern that the bill can be used to target LGBTQ programs and protections.
“Debate over the bill made expressly clear that LGBTQ people were a central target of the legislation,” the group’s statement says. “The public record, the bill sponsors’ own statements, and hours of legislative debate revealed the animus driving the effort to pressure local governments into pulling back from recognizing or resourcing programs targeting LGBTQ residents and other historically marginalized communities,” the statement says.
But the statement also notes that following outspoken requests by local officials, sponsors of the bill agreed to several amendments “ensuring local governments can continue to permit Pride festivals, even while navigating new restrictions on supporting or promoting them.”
The statement adds, “Florida’s LGBTQ community knows all too well how to fight back against unjust laws. Just as we did, following the passage of Florida’s notorious ‘Don’t Say Gay or Trans’ law, we will fight every step of the way to limit the impact of this legislation, including in the courts.”
The White House
Trump will refuse to sign voting bill without anti-trans provisions
Measure described as ‘Jim Crow 2.0’
President Donald Trump said he will refuse to sign any legislation into law unless Congress passes the “SAVE Act,” pressuring lawmakers to move forward with the controversial voting bill.
In posts on Truth Social and other social media platforms, the 47th president emphasized the importance of Republican lawmakers pushing the legislation through while also using the opportunity to denounce gender-affirming care.
“I, as President, will not sign other Bills until this is passed, AND NOT THE WATERED DOWN VERSION — GO FOR THE GOLD,” Trump posted. “MUST SHOW VOTER I.D. & PROOF OF CITIZENSHIP: NO MAIL-IN BALLOTS EXCEPT FOR MILITARY — ILLNESS, DISABILITY, TRAVEL: NO MEN IN WOMEN’S SPORTS: NO TRANSGENDER MUTILIZATION FOR CHILDREN! DO NOT FAIL!!!”
The proposed Safeguard American Voter Eligibility (SAVE) Act would amend the National Voter Registration Act of 1993 to require in-person proof of citizenship for anyone seeking to vote in U.S. elections. Trump has also called for the legislation to include a ban on gender-affirming medical care for transgender minors, even with parental consent.
“This is a huge priority for the president. He added on some priorities to the SAVE America Act in recent days, namely, no transgender transition surgeries for minors. We are not gonna tolerate the mutilation of young children in this country. No men in women’s sports,” White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt said. “The president putting all of these priorities together speaks to how common sense they are.”
The comments mark the first time the White House has publicly confirmed that Trump is pushing to attach anti-trans policies to the SAVE Act.
The bill would also require the removal of undocumented immigrants from existing voter rolls and allow election officials who fail to enforce the proof-of-citizenship requirement to be sued.
It is already illegal for noncitizens to vote in federal elections. Current safeguards include requirements such as providing a Social Security number when registering to vote, cross-checking voter rolls with federal data and, in some states, requiring identification at the polls.
Trump began pushing for the legislation during his State of the Union address last month, where he singled out Senate Majority Leader John Thune (R-S.D.) by name while criticizing the lack of movement on the bill.
Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-N.Y.) has denounced the legislation as “Jim Crow 2.0” and said it has little chance of advancing through the Senate, calling it “dead on arrival.”
In remarks on the Senate floor, Schumer said “the SAVE Act includes such extreme voter registration requirements that, if enacted, could disenfranchise 21 million American citizens.”
Trump has repeatedly used political messaging around trans youth and gender-affirming care as part of broader cultural and policy debates during his presidency — most recently during his State of the Union address, where he cited the case of Sage Blair, a Virginia teenager whose school allegedly encouraged her to transition without her parents’ consent.
LGBTQ advocates — including those familiar with Blair’s story — say the situation was far more complex than described and argue that using a single anecdote to justify sweeping federal restrictions could place trans people, particularly youth, at greater risk.
Health
Too afraid to leave home: ICE’s toll on Latino HIV care
Heightened immigration enforcement in Minneapolis is disrupting treatment
Uncloseted Media published this article on March 3.
This story was produced in collaboration with Rewire News Group, a nonprofit publication reporting on reproductive and sexual health, rights and justice.
This story was produced with the support of MISTR, a telehealth platform offering free online access to PrEP, DoxyPEP, STI testing, Hepatitis C testing and treatment and long-term HIV care across the U.S. MISTR did not have any editorial input into the content of this story.
By SAM DONNDELINGER and CAMERON OAKES | For two weeks, Albé Sanchez didn’t leave their house in South Minneapolis.
“[I was] forced into survival mode,” Sanchez told Uncloseted Media and Rewire News Group (RNG). “I felt like there was an invisible wall [to the outside world] that I couldn’t cross unless I really wanted to put myself in a place where there was a chance that I might not be able to come back.”
Queer and Mexican American, Sanchez was afraid of being targeted by the Immigration and Customs Enforcement presence in their neighborhood, even though they are a U.S. citizen.
“Every day is a risk,” they say, adding that even if they have paperwork, if they fit the profile, they are a target, making it scary to go even to work or the grocery store.
Sanchez, a 30-year-old sexual health care educator, has been taking oral PrEP, the daily preventive medication for HIV, for over a decade. But the mounting stress of ICE raids has made it harder to keep up with dosing.
“A missed dose here and there pushed me to make the appointment [for something more sustainable],” they say.
Sanchez says they felt like somebody would have their back at their local clinic. It was only a 10-minute drive from where they worked, they knew its staff from previous visits and community outreach, and they could count on finding Spanish-speaking staff and providers of Latino heritage. But not everybody has had that same experience accessing care.
Since ICE’s Operation Metro Surge began in early December, an increasing number of Latino patients in Minnesota are delaying or canceling what can be lifesaving care for the prevention and treatment of HIV.
These findings are particularly alarming for Latino communities, who, as of 2023, are 72 percent more likely than the general U.S. population to be diagnosed with HIV. And while overall infections have decreased, cases among Latinos increased by 24 percent between 2010 and 2022.
“I’m very concerned that there is going to be a sharp uptick in transmission,” says Alex Palacios, a community health specialist in the Minneapolis area.
In a January 2026 declaration as part of a lawsuit seeking to end Operation Metro Surge in the days following Renee Nicole Good’s killing, the commissioner of the Minnesota Department of Health said HIV testing among Latino populations has “dropped dramatically” and that “although grantee staff continue to go into the community to promote and provide testing, people are not showing up.”
Local clinics are reporting the same thing. The Aliveness Project, a community wellness center in Minneapolis specializing in HIV care, told Uncloseted Media and RNG they have seen more than a 50 percent decrease in new clients. The clinic serves a large number of Latino and undocumented clients, and while it usually sees 750 people walk through their door each week, according to providers, it reported seeing 100 fewer people each week since December.
Red Door, Minnesota’s largest STI and HIV clinic, has had a “modest uptick” in no-shows and missed appointments since December.
What happens when treatment stops
Today, there are multiple medications available that work to prevent HIV and dozens that treat it once a person tests positive. Many people who consistently take their medication have such low levels of the virus that they can’t transmit it through sex. But becoming undetectable requires patients to stay on their medication; otherwise, the virus replicates and mutates, weakening the immune system and increasing the risk of life-threatening infections.
“If patients aren’t on their medicines consistently, HIV can learn about the medication and become resistant to them. When this happens, the medicine will not work for the patient, and the new resistant virus could potentially be passed on to others,” says George Froehle, a physician assistant and provider at Aliveness Project. “Medication adherence is one of the most important aspects of HIV care.”
To maintain care and prevent dangerous, untreatable strains from spreading in Minnesota, providers at Aliveness Project have begun delivering medication to patients when possible, offering telehealth when they can, and pausing routine lab work to limit in-person appointments.
“The most important thing we can do from a public health perspective is to keep people undetectable so they don’t transmit HIV,” Froehle says, adding that providers in other cities targeted by ICE will need to make plans for missed injection visits, pivot to telehealth and prepare their teams for the “trauma that can occur.”
Sanchez understands the risks of inconsistent treatment, which is why they opted for the injectable preventative medication.
“I have a lot of risk [to HIV in my community],” Sanchez says. “With so much uncertainty about the future and whether HIV care will remain stable, I realized I couldn’t let this opportunity pass.”
But injectable HIV treatments are commonly dosed at two weeks to six months apart, and the medication must be administered in a clinic — a setting many patients are avoiding, according to providers.
“They have a two-week window” to get their shots, according to Froehle, who added that because patients are afraid to come in person, they have had to transition people off of their injectable HIV treatments. This has caused patients to return to oral HIV treatments without the testing they would normally receive had ICE not been in Minneapolis. “[Oral treatments] weren’t super successful [for these patients] to begin with and that’s why they were on injectables.”
Oral HIV medications, too, must be taken consistently to work. In response, providers have urged patients to have their pills with them at all times in case they get deported or detained.
The caution is not unfounded. Federal immigration facilities have a history of denying adequate medical care to people living with HIV, despite internal standards that require them to comply. Since 2025, at least two men living with HIV have been denied access to their medication in a Brooklyn jail, according to lawsuits obtained by THE CITY. One man said he was only given his medication after his lips broke open and he developed an open pustule on his leg. And in January 2025, another man died of HIV complications while in ICE custody in Arizona.
Beyond being detained without proper medication, patients are at risk of being deported to countries with limited access to HIV care, like Honduras and Venezuela, experts say.
“A lot of men [from Venezuela] told me they left because it wasn’t safe to be gay there and because they struggled to access HIV care,” says Froehle. “It’s a little heartbreaking to see new folks not only face the threat of deportation, but to places where they didn’t feel safe medically or identity-wise.”
“Some of these patients will die in their home country,” says Anna Person, the chair of the HIV Medicine Association. “It’s a death sentence.”
A ‘cascading disaster’
While ICE’s presence is threatening the infrastructure of HIV care that Minneapolis has built over decades, experts say there has always been a blind spot in HIV care for the city’s Latino community.
Vincent Guilamo-Ramos, executive director of the Institute for Policy Solutions at the Johns Hopkins University of Nursing, describes HIV in Latino communities as a “cascading disaster,” the result of years of compounding inequities.
“There’s been an invisible crisis among Latinos that hasn’t gotten traction,” he says. “The numbers have consistently gone up in terms of new infections, while nationally they’ve gone down. … That should be a big alarm.”
Numbers are rising because structural barriers and stigma are preventing Latinos from receiving care. A 2022 report from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention found that between 2018 and 2020, nearly 1 in 4 Hispanic people living with HIV reported experiencing discrimination in health care settings. Lack of representation among providers, language barriers and deep-rooted medical mistrust further complicate access to care, according to Guilamo-Ramos.
Beyond the medical system, stigma within Latino communities can be equally damaging. According to Human Rights Campaign data, more than 78 percent of Latino LGBTQ youth reported experiencing homophobia or transphobia within the Latino community in 2024.
Sanchez agrees that stigma and bias are already massive barriers to care, citing the strict gender norms and Catholic beliefs many Latino communities hold. They say ICE’s presence is threatening already delicate access to HIV care.
“This has caused so much damage to people,” Sanchez says. “Not being able to access your health care appointments is such a stab in the side. … Being able to navigate any of these things in normal circumstances already has so much difficulty to it.”
Palacios, who is Afro-Latine and living with HIV, says the heightened ICE presence is worsening barriers that have long undermined the Latino community’s access to HIV care.
“The horizon has always been stark and dim,” they say. “And this just feels like one more thing to address and to fight back against.”
Sliding backwards
Navigating HIV care is becoming more difficult across the board, as the federal government has decimated HIV funding, compromising decades of progress made in the fight against the virus since Donald Trump retook office just over a year ago.
In February 2026, three months into Operation Metro Surge, the Trump-Vance administration proposed slashing $600 million in HIV-related grants, targeting four blue states, including $42 million for Minnesota programs. A federal judge has temporarily blocked the cuts.
“This would completely decimate and gut all of our HIV prevention,” says Dylan Boyer, director of development at Aliveness Project. “That’s the reality that we live in.”
“We have all the tools, and yet we are staring down this rollback of infrastructure and research dollars, prevention efforts, treatment efforts, that are going to put us squarely back in the 1980s,” says Person, a national HIV expert who grew up in Minnesota. “[There] seems to be no other rationale for that besides cruelty, to be quite frank, since there’s no scientific reason for it.”
Repair and representation
Jenny Harding, director of advancement at a Minneapolis-area supportive housing program for people living with HIV, says that while ICE’s presence is lessening in the Twin Cities, the “damage is done.”
Person says that this mending will take time, especially between the medical community and patients, since HIV providers can have a “very fragile” relationship with their clients.
“It takes, sometimes, years to build that level of trust. And I do worry that folks are just going to say, ‘I don’t feel safe here anymore. The system does not have my best interest at heart, and I’m not coming back,’” she says. “This is not something that you can flip a switch and everything will go back to normal.”
“We need to hold our federal government accountable, particularly HHS, [and] we need to ensure that HIV funding remains intact,” Guilamo-Ramos says, adding that in order to lower rates of HIV in the Latino community, there should be more specialized efforts: such as bilingual and culturally aligned health care providers, community-based outreach programs co-located where risk is highest, trust-building initiatives to address medical mistrust, mobile clinics, and targeted programs to re-engage patients who have fallen out of care.
Aliveness Project’s patient numbers have increased in the last few weeks as the ICE operation has waned, but the clinic staff is keeping “a watchful eye” and is having “difficulty reaching folks who are understandably scared.”
“Our biggest focus right now is reconnecting with people through our outreach so no one has a lapse in their HIV medications or prevention care,” Boyer, of Aliveness Project, says.
For Sanchez, seeing providers who speak Spanish and are of Latin heritage at Aliveness Project built enough trust for them to reach out and make an appointment despite the risks. Sanchez feels optimistic about their new injectable prevention strategy with the support of their clinic.
“There’s many places where you can receive care here in the Twin Cities where you might not see your skin tone. … There’s still a lot of health care professionals that unfortunately carry bias. … Aliveness is the opposite of that,” they say. “Seeing that representation and knowing someone has that cultural context of how to meet you in moments of sensitivity, it’s crucial.”
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