LGBTQ rights advocates have joined the nation’s civil rights leaders in reflecting on the life and work of the Rev. Jesse Jackson, the famed U.S. civil rights leader whose family announced passed away on Feb. 17 at the age of 84.

Known as a follower and associate of African American civil rights leader Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Jackson emerged in the 1960s as a leading civil rights advocate for the Black community and other minorities for decades throughout the U.S., including in Washington.

In a less known aspect of Jackson’s involvement in politics, following his campaigns for U.S. president in 1984 and 1988, Jackson won election in 1990 as the District of Columbia’s shadow senator, a ceremonial position created to lobby Congress for D.C. statehood.

Jackson, who at that time had a home in D.C., received strong support from D.C. voters, including LGBTQ voters who became aware of Jackson’s support for LGBTQ issues. He served just one six-year term as the city’s shadow senator before choosing not to run again.

An early supporter of marriage equality, Jackson was among the prominent speakers at the 1987 National March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights. Jackson joined other speakers at a rally on the grounds of the U.S. Capitol.

During his run for president in 1988 the D.C. Gertrude Stein Democratic Club, an LGBTQ group that has since been renamed the Capital Stonewall Democrats, endorsed Jackson for president ahead of the city’s Democratic presidential primary.  

“The fight for justice requires courage, hope, and a relentlessness that will not be denied. Rev. Jesse Jackson embodied that fight every day,” said Kelley Robinson, president of the Human Rights Campaign, the nation’s largest LGBTQ advocacy organization.

“From disrupting political systems and building people power to helping this country imagine a freer future for all of us, Rev. Jackson was a force,” Robinson said in a statement. “His historic presidential campaigns paved the way for generations of Black leaders to imagine ourselves in rooms we were once told were closed to us.”

Robinson added, “Reverand Jackson also stood up when it mattered; when it wasn’t easy and when it wasn’t popular. His support for marriage equality and for LGBTQ+ people affirmed a simple, powerful truth: our liberation is bound together.”

She also pointed to Jackson’s support for efforts to repeal California’s Proposition 8, a 2008 referendum passed by voters to ban same-sex marriage in the state.  

“Marriage is based on love and commitment, not on sexual orientation. I support the right for any person to marry the person of their choosing,” Robinson quoted Jackson as saying in support of efforts that succeeded in overturning the California marriage ban.

The national organization PFLAG, which represents parents, friends, and allies of the LGBTQ community, released a statement from its president, Brian K. Bond, citing Jackson’s longstanding support for the LGBTQ community.

“Today, as we learn of the passing of Rev. Jesse Jackson, we mourn the loss of a giant among us,” Bond said in the statement. “When many refused to acknowledge the existence and struggles of LGBTQ+ people, Rev. Jackson saw us, affirmed us, and demanded equality inclusively,” Bond said. “In his address to the Democratic National Convention in 1984, Rev. Jackson named us specifically as part of the fabric of the American Quilt,” Bond says in his statement.

The statement adds, “He has shown up for and marched with the LGBTQ+ movement through the AIDS crisis, marriage equality, and ever after. Rev. Jackson’s leadership and allyship for LGBTQ+ people will be felt profoundly by his PFLAG family. We will continue to honor his legacy as we continue to strive to achieve justice and equality for all.”

D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser, citing Jackson’s role as a D.C. shadow senator, said for many in the country, Jackson “was the first person they heard make the case for D.C. statehood. The first person they heard say: it’s the right thing to do.”

Bowser added, “In 1988, he said that we were at a crossroads, and he posed this question: Shall we expand, be inclusive, find unity and power; or suffer division and impotence? It is a question as relevant today as when he asked it,” the mayor said, “And in Rev. Jackson’s name and memory, we must continue fighting for the answer we know our nation deserves.”

D.C. Congressional Delegate Eleanor Holmes Norton (D) said she was honored to have worked with Jackson during his tenure as D.C. shadow senator and throughout his years as a civil rights advocate.

“From the front lines of the civil rights movement to national campaigns that expanded the political imagination of this country, Jesse Jackson lifted up the voices of those too often unheard,” Norton said in a statement. “He turned protest into progress and transformed moral conviction into political action”

According to Norton, “His work-built bridges across race, class, and geography, helping redefine what inclusive democracy could look like in America.”

Uncloseted Media published this article on Feb. 14.

By HOPE PISONI | In December, Kathy Brennan was in San Francisco on a video call with her wife and son when she started to feel a burning pain in her chest. While she ignored it at first, it quickly spread to more of her body until it was too much to bear. She called 911 and was brought to the hospital on a stretcher.

“My entire chest was just crushed in pain, I couldn’t even move it was so bad,” Brennan told Uncloseted Media. “I said ‘God, I am not ready to die here. Please don’t let me die.’ I was thinking about Alaina, and we have so much more life together.”

Brennan spent the next few days recovering in the hospital from what doctors determined to be a stress-induced heart attack.

Brennan had spent the past year in a near-constant state of what she called “safety monitoring” her wife, Alaina Kupec.

She obsessively followed the news about the Trump administration’s attacks against the trans community, especially as officials began openly labeling trans people as terrorists. Everywhere she went, she mentally patrolled for how to keep her wife safe.

“Is our home safe? Is my wife safe? Are we safe? What do we have to do? … Can we protect ourselves if people come to our door? What do we have to worry about when we go to the grocery store? Are we gonna get doxxed?” Brennan remembers thinking.

Kupec, a trans naval intelligence veteran, is an outspoken advocate for trans rights and is the founder president of Gender Research Advisory Council + Education (GRACE).

“I think the big worry is that she will be taken away from me and we won’t be able to find her. … Then, just for the sheer sake of cruelty, my beautiful, feminine woman of a wife, they would put her in a men’s prison.”

Brennan’s fear reflects that of many trans Americans and their loved ones. In the aftermath of the assassination of anti-trans conservative activist Charlie Kirk, the Trump administration and its allies began taking actions to target socially progressive people and organizations as terrorists, with a focus on trans people. In September, Trump signed an executive order designating Antifa, a decentralized movement focused on militant opposition to fascism, as the first ever “domestic terrorist organization.” At the same time, the closely allied Heritage Foundation — who penned Project 2025 — began pushing for the creation of a new national security designation called “Transgender Ideology-Inspired Violent Extremism.”

Shortly after, Trump released National Security Presidential Memorandum (NSPM)-7, which directs intelligence agencies to investigate left-wing political organizations for involvement in domestic terrorism, singling out “extremism on migration, race, and gender” and “hostility towards those who hold traditional American views on family, religion, and morality.”

The unfounded trans terrorism panic has swept right-wing spaces, and experts say that it’s putting trans people in danger.

“If people are told, day after day, especially from … people with that veneer of legitimacy, that this entire group of people … is implicitly a dangerous terrorist, that sends that message that these people are able to be targeted for violence,” Jon Lewis, a research fellow at the Program on Extremism at George Washington University, told Uncloseted Media.

The what and the why

While Trump relied on anti-trans messaging since he began campaigning in the 2024 presidential election, his portrayal of trans people as a national security threat emerged in response to an August 2025 mass shooting in Minneapolis, where a trans person killed two children. While the overwhelming majority of mass shooters are cisgender men, right-wing figureheads blamed the shooting on the perpetrator’s transness.

While Kirk’s assassin is cisgender, early reports falsely claimed that he had engraved pro-trans messages onto his bullets, which conservative figures like Megyn Kelly and Laura Loomer used to blame trans people for the killing. “It’s time to designate the transgender movement as a terrorist movement,” Loomer said the following weekend on X. And Vice President JD Vance suggested that he considers trans people to be part of a “terrorist movement.”

The Trump administration picked up on this rhetoric to justify its actions: the Antifa executive order and NSPM-7 both reference Kirk’s assassination as well as either trans people or “extremism on gender.”

As these policies began rolling out, independent journalist Ken Klippenstein reported that the FBI was preparing to designate trans people as “nihilistic violent extremists.” A leaked intelligence brief showed that U.S. Customs and Border Protection had centered the focus of one extremist group on their trans membership, referring to them as a “radical leftist trans militant cult.”

How these actions will be enforced remains to be seen. At least two trans women are currently jailed and awaiting trial over an anti-ICE protest where a local police officer was shot by a cis man, which the Department of Justice claims was connected to an “Antifa Cell.” It is not known whether the government will attempt to use the defendants’ transness to implicate them in terrorism charges.

And leaked documents indicate that the FBI is compiling a list of groups and individuals involved in extremism based on a number of beliefs including “radical gender ideology.” Their ability to compile such lists may be enhanced by a policy change from the Department of Homeland Security last February that allows the government to surveil people based on their sexual orientation or gender identity.

While some have questioned to what extent the administration intends to actually enforce all of these policies, experts say that the fact they’re being discussed poses a serious risk.

“From 9/11 onward, the United States has been leading a ‘global war on terror,’ so to label somebody as a terrorist is a rallying cry for violence and discrimination,” says Arie Kruglanski, a professor of psychology at the University of Maryland. “This term of terrorism calls people to action. … Once you label somebody as a terrorist, then clearly they present a mortal danger to society, and they need to be fought against.”

‘Tremendously damaging’

Lewis says that being exposed to these attacks can be “tremendously damaging.”

“It’s not even that there are [always] explicitly these immediate legal repercussions that some person will face, but it’s that othering, it’s that sense of fear every day,” he says.

That fear has caused Jewels Jones to withdraw from public life. Jones, a trans man from the South, says that the anti-trans vitriol online after Kirk’s death became too much to handle, and he had to leave social media almost entirely.

“I’m 23, I should be on social media, but I can’t because if I even go onto my timeline, something can trigger me,” Jones told Uncloseted Media. “[I miss] the feeling of freedom.”

With community often hard to find, Jones says he and several other trans people he knows have been struggling with substance use.

“Everyone here has their own reasons for turning to things such as drinking and smoking and partying and just finding [a way] to feel numb or ignore what’s going on,” Jones says. “Just being trans and having to see how everybody views you, how you’re perceived, how you’re feeling, all these different emotions that you feel is more than enough of a reason [to] turn to those things.”

PJ, a trans man from a small town in Arizona, who asked to remain anonymous because he is not out, says that after Trump’s inauguration, he’s started to hide his transness. And he’s not alone: Since the 2024 election, 55 percent of trans people have taken steps to be less visible in their communities.

“It is torture,” PJ says. “I do not like having to lower my voice when I speak to prevent sounding androgynous. I do not like having to hide away my wardrobe for ‘being too gay.’ There is no comfort in overcompensation.”

Individuals aren’t the only ones stepping into the shadows. Kupec has been withdrawing herself and her nonprofit from the internet as much as possible. She says GRACE used to host monthly calls, where as many as 100 people would join to hear from experts on issues facing the trans community. But now, they no longer have public meetings, and internal communications have moved to Signal, an encrypted messaging app.

“We have backed off of doing those things because of the fear of how this could be leveraged against us,” Kupec told Uncloseted Media. “It’s had a chilling effect on our ability to exercise our freedom of speech as individuals and as a nonprofit organization.”

Trying to leave

Because of this fear, many trans Americans are trying to leave. A survey by the Movement Advancement Project found that 43 percent of trans Americans had considered moving to a different state since the 2024 election, with 9 percent having already moved. And the Williams Institute found that 45 percent of trans people wanted to move out of the country.

Kupec has watched noteworthy friends disperse across the globe: Rachel See, the former chair for National Center for Transgender Equality, moved to Portugal; and author and advocate Brynn Tannehill moved to Canada.

“That’s part of what [the administration’s] desired outcome is, to get people to self-deport,” Kupec says.

For many, relocating isn’t easy: For 64 percent of trans people who want to move out of state, cost of living was cited as a barrier. PJ has been trying to move for years. But within the U.S., relatively LGBTQ-friendly states like California and Massachusetts have much higher costs of living, making moving there financially challenging.

Moving internationally is no small feat either — every country has its own laws to navigate around immigration.

PJ says he kept running into barriers while trying to leave. The Netherlands initially seemed promising, but he discovered that the path to residency required him to start a business, which he couldn’t afford to do. Other countries fell through because he didn’t have the money to cover application fees. The closest he got to making it out was when a friend on the east coast of Canada offered to let him stay with them for a while. But it fell through when the friend’s septic tank collapsed, ruining the house and forcing PJ back to the U.S.

“It seems like every plan that you make to try to get out of here, it just gets squashed,” he says.

Those barriers have gotten scarier for PJ as the clock may be ticking for him to be able to leave. In November, the Supreme Court allowed the Trump administration to enforce a ban on passports with gender markers that do not align with an individual’s birth certificate, with the State Department’s website suggesting that passports which have already been updated may be invalidated.

Given all of these threats, PJ believes that trans Americans should be able to seek asylum in other countries. Applications for asylum by trans Americans have been rejected in countries including the Netherlands and Canada, and most European countries don’t view the U.S. as dangerous enough to grant refugee status despite many having issued travel advisories for trans residents visiting the country.

“We can’t really claim asylum right now so there’s not really many other options but sink or swim,” PJ says.

There have been some efforts to push for asylum status for trans Americans. Politicians, advocates and lawyers in Canada and Norway have called for their respective governments to accept trans Americans as refugees. And in July, a Canadian judge blocked the deportation of a nonbinary American who overstayed their visa, with one of the factors considered in the decision being “current conditions for LGBTQ, nonbinary, and transgender persons” in the U.S.

Finding hope and respite

In the face of all this, finding a support network can be crucial to survival. While community has been especially hard to find in the South, Jones says that he’s been able to connect with other transmasc people via reddit communities like r/TMPOC (Trans Masculine People of Color) or r/testosteronekickoff.

Kupec and Brennan find solace through their 12-year relationship. Brennan says, “I love her more now … than I did when I first fell mad smack in love with her.”

“Having love where there’s respect and kindness and joy and excitement and it goes both ways, that is really unique, not a lot of people have that,” she says. “But when you do have it, it’s like, ‘I wanna preserve this and protect this with every ounce of my energy and soul because it’s the center of my life,’ and I know that she feels that way too.”

As Brennan recovers from her heart attack, she’s been watching less news and joined a book club to connect with other people. Kupec, a Catholic, has been putting her faith in God to get through.

“I know who I am, I know my maker knows who I am, and I have strong faith that by doing the right thing, at the end of the day, that’s what’s going to win out.”

Additional reporting by Sam Donndelinger.

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.