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Young people are more than twice as likely to attempt suicide if they have been subject to conversion therapy, which LGBTQ+ rights advocates say is "proven to cause lasting psychological harm."
The US Supreme Court on Tuesday struck down Colorado’s ban on “conversion therapy,” drawing warnings from LGBTQ+ groups that the ruling could expose children in dozens of states to the harmful practice.
Colorado's law forbade licensed physicians and mental healthcare providers from attempting to "convert" or change a minor's sexuality, a practice that the American Psychological Association has found to be both ineffective and dangerous, raising rates of depression, anxiety, and suicide in LGBTQ+ youth.
The law defined "conversion therapy" as any treatment that “attempts or purports to change an individual’s sexual orientation or gender identity, including efforts to change behaviors or gender expressions or to eliminate or reduce sexual or romantic attraction or feelings toward individuals of the same sex.”
It allowed exemptions for pastors and religious organizations. It also allowed health professionals to engage in wide-ranging discussions with children about their sexual and gender identities, so long as they did not try to change the child's orientation.
Nevertheless, on Tuesday, the high court sided 8-1 with Kaley Chiles, a Christian counselor who said she wished to offer talk therapy to children who want to reduce same-sex attraction and argued that the ban on this practice was in violation of her First Amendment rights.
Chiles was backed by the Trump administration, as well as the far-right Alliance Defending Freedom, a Christian nationalist legal group with a long history of seeking to outlaw same-sex conduct.
Most famously, the group argued in support of state laws criminalizing homosexuality in the 2003 Lawrence v. Texas case, and it has since gone on to back many other cases attacking birth control access, same-sex marriage, and transgender equality.
In the majority opinion, the conservative Justice Neil Gorsuch wrote that Colorado's law “censors speech based on viewpoint" and therefore must be subject to strict scrutiny—the highest form of judicial review, which the court determined it did not pass.
The lone dissenting justice, Ketanji Brown Jackson, argued that Chiles' treatment was not mere speech, but that it was acting in her capacity "as a licensed healthcare professional," which formed the crux of Colorado's defense of the ban.
She argued that the ruling "opens a dangerous can of worms" and "threatens to impair states’ ability to regulate the provision of medical care in any respect."
"Because the majority plays with fire in this case, I fear that the people of this country will get burned," Jackson said.
Two liberals, Justices Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor, joined the conservatives in striking the law down. However, they argued in a concurring opinion that a full ban on therapy aimed at changing minors' sexuality might be more lawful than the one Colorado passed, which included carveouts for specific circumstances.
Kagan also argued that allowing Colorado to outlaw conversion therapy could backfire and give red states the legal framework to also ban counselors from providing affirmative care to LGBTQ+ minors.
LGBTQ+ rights organizations have roundly condemned the court's decision, which is expected to weaken bans on conversion therapy in the 23 states and the District of Columbia that currently have them.
"Today’s reckless decision means more American kids will suffer," said Kelley Robinson, the president of the Human Rights Campaign. "The Court has weaponized free speech in order to prioritize anti-LGBTQ+ bias over the safety, health, and well-being of children."
A 2024 mental health survey by the Trevor Project, an LGBTQ+ advocacy group, found that 13% of LGBTQ+ young people have been either threatened with or subject to conversion therapy—including about 1 in 6 transgender or nonbinary youth.
Previously, the group published peer-reviewed research in the American Journal of Public Health, showing that young people subject to conversion therapy were more than twice as likely to attempt suicide as their peers.
"These efforts, no matter what proponents call them, no matter what any court says, are still proven to cause lasting psychological harm," said Trevor Project CEO Jaymes Black. "That’s why protections have been enacted in more than 20 states, and are supported by every major medical and mental health association in the country."
Carl Charles, a senior attorney at Lambda Legal who joined more than a dozen survivors of the practice in a friend of the court brief in support of Colorado's law, said, "I know firsthand the long-lasting harms of conversion therapy, having been subjected to it when I was 15 years old."
"This practice did not change my sexual orientation or gender identity," said Charles, a transgender man. "Instead, it destroyed important relationships and created shame and fear that took time and effort to undo. For many survivors, it is a reverberating life-long harm."
"LGBTQ+ youth do not need to be changed," Charles said. "Rather, like all youth, they need to be supported and celebrated for the unique and important people they are becoming."
Colorado's Democratic Gov. Jared Polis has said he will seek to pass new legislation that complies with the Supreme Court's ruling.
"Conversion therapy doesn’t work, can seriously harm youth, and Coloradans should beware before turning over their hard-earned money to a scam," Polis said. "I am evaluating the US Supreme Court ruling and working to figure out how to better protect LGBTQ youth and free speech in Colorado."
In other states whose bans could be undermined by the ruling, efforts have already begun to ensure that providers who cause harm to children still face accountability.
In California, which has a similar ban on conversion therapy to Colorado’s, state Sen. Scott Weiner (D-11) introduced a bill proposing a longer statute of limitations and making it easier for LGBTQ+ individuals to bring malpractice claims against medical professionals who subject them to conversion therapy.
Weiner noted that the Supreme Court's ruling "explicitly states that malpractice claims for conversion therapy are different than bans," since they require a plaintiff to demonstrate injury caused by their treatment.
"You can’t 'convert' someone who’s LGBTQ—full stop—and people who think you can are peddling quackery," Weiner said. "California will always have the community’s back."
The 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline can be reached by calling or texting 988, or through chat at 988lifeline.org. The Trevor Project, which serves LGBTQ+ youth, can be reached at 1-866-488-7386, by texting "START" to 678-678, or through chat at TheTrevorProject.org. Both offer 24/7, free, and confidential support.
This isn’t just a rollback. It’s a deliberate erasure of rights that we fought for in the wake of deeply personal and collective loss.
In 2022, my wife and I lost our first child. We named them June. They were deeply wanted and fiercely loved. In one fateful appointment, our entire worlds changed. We learned that June had a severe fetal bladder abnormality and was unable to produce amniotic fluid. Without it, their lungs would never develop. They would not survive.
We made the impossible decision to end the pregnancy—an act of compassion, love, and medical necessity.
At the time, the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) had a total ban on abortion care and counseling.
No exceptions for rape. No exceptions for incest. Not even to save a veteran’s life.
Veterans and our families deserve futures built on compassion, justice, and love—not fear.
After our loss, the only way I felt I could keep breathing was to turn that grief into meaning. I shared our story with lawmakers to help reverse this dangerous policy so that veterans and their families could turn to the VA—no matter the circumstance or where they lived. That fall, the VA finally took steps to reverse the ban, signaling a long-overdue shift toward care, autonomy, and dignity.
But that progress was short-lived.
The VA just finalized a new abortion ban policy that, once again, excludes exceptions for rape or incest and offers only vague assurances that it will intervene if our lives are at risk. They initially implemented this enormous change in secret without telling veterans or their families.
In effect, it returns the VA to what was once the most extreme abortion ban in the country—an outright prohibition on care and counseling that applies to every VA facility nationwide, regardless of state law.
This isn’t just a rollback. It’s a deliberate erasure of rights that we fought for in the wake of deeply personal and collective loss.
And it is not happening in isolation. The same administration driving this ban is also working diligently to eliminate gender-affirming care, defund programs for minority and underrepresented veterans, and strip inclusive language and data collection from federal policy. The message is unmistakable: Some veterans count. Others don’t.
Veterans are not a monolith. We are a diverse community—LGBTQIA+, people of color, disabled, parents, caregivers, survivors, and yes, women too. Our community exists at every intersection of identity and experience, and our families serve alongside us. Our care cannot be conditional. Our humanity is not negotiable.
Policy is never just about one issue. It is intersectional—because our lives are intersectional.
Reproductive care cannot be separated from gender-affirming care, from disability access and mental health, from racial justice, or maternal health. Our needs don’t exist in silos, and neither do we. When one right is taken away, the loss reverberates across all the others.
I’ve seen what’s possible when we refuse to stay silent—how lived experience can reshape policy and expand care that has never existed before. And I know exactly what is at stake when care is denied. Pregnancy can change on a dime.
June’s life, though brief, transformed mine. Through their memory, I found purpose. I found a voice. And in their honor, I will continue working to ensure that no veteran or family ever has to face what we faced alone.
We should be building systems rooted in care, equity, and truth. We should be honoring the fullness of who veterans are, how we serve, and how we build our families. Instead, our fundamental rights are being stripped away—one policy memo at a time—and once again, we are being asked to fight for the right to make personal decisions about our health, our futures, and our families.
I will not allow June’s legacy to become another casualty of politics. Their life will be a call to care.
This moment demands more than endurance. It demands action.
The policies we pass—within the VA and beyond—shape the futures of veterans and the people who love us. Had my wife not been able to access critical care in her time of need—had we not been given the chance to make the most compassionate choice amid impossible circumstances—we might never have known the joy of raising our child today, a joy born from grief and shaped by love.
Veterans and our families deserve futures built on compassion, justice, and love—not fear.
Because in the end, we are all only human.
The Trump-Vance administration believed they could turn back the clock on the LGBTQI+ community by cutting services, weaponizing laws and regulations, and trying to erase our identities. They have deeply underestimated us.
As a Black queer advocate and policy professional, I have never been naive about politics. But 2025 surpassed even cynics’ worst fears. The Trump-Vance administration didn’t just change laws; it dismantled protections, erased identities, stripped away care, and declared that some lives don’t matter.
Black and brown communities already battling racialized policing, economic precarity, and limited access to care suffered new blows on multiple fronts. For women, girls, transgender youth, disabled people, queer folks, immigrants, the message was clear: Not only your rights, but your bodies, your health, and your lives are expendable.
President Donald Trump’s January 20, 2025 executive order “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth” redefined gender as a binary fixed from birth. Across agencies, “gender” became “sex,” and gender identity was erased from federal recognition and protections.
Trump’s January 24 executive order reinstating Hyde Amendment-style restrictions cut virtually all federal funding for abortion, and clawed back health funding for reproductive services. The 1977 Hyde Amendment banned using federal funds for abortion (except in cases of rape or incest or a life-threatening pregnancy). Doubling down on it disproportionately impacts women, girls, low-income people, and communities of color.
Communities of color, LGBTQI+ people, women, girls, and transgender youth are not disappearing. We are organizing; we are resisting; we are making care, dignity, and justice real.
By mid-2025, all federal support for LGBTQI-specific crisis services through the national suicide prevention hotline 988 was suspended—a direct blow to people who rely on them when they have nowhere else to turn.
Over the course of the year, health-equity protections, data collection on sexual orientation and gender identity, nondiscrimination guidance, and federal support for queer and trans-inclusive care were all revoked.
Taken together, these actions aren’t just policy changes; they symbolize structural denial of the needs, identities, and very existence of people the administration doesn’t want to see in its vision for America, or indeed the world.
Last year it overhauled how the US reports on human rights, categorizing abortion access, gender-affirming care, and protections for LGBTQI+ people as “human rights violations” while ignoring systemic racism, police violence, economic inequality, and state-sanctioned oppression. This brazen rewriting of global norms on human rights gives cover to oppressive regimes and undermines US leadership and moral standing.
So where do we go from here?
We need to hold ourselves accountable for building real equity in real time. We must reclaim care as a form of resistance. Our laws at every level must guarantee access to healthcare, behavioral health services, gender-affirming care, mental health support, comprehensive data collection, and nondiscrimination protections. They must guarantee reproductive autonomy and community safety for everyone, and especially for those denied these rights the longest. Care, autonomy, and safety are imperative at all times, and can’t be suspended or soft-pedalled when ideological winds shift.
Those most impacted by the shifts must shape the path forward: Women of color should be at the center of reproductive health and justice efforts. Queer people from historically marginalized communities should guide design of mental health and crisis-response systems. Transgender youth should lead national conversations about their own safety and autonomy.
2025 was not just a bleak moment in our history; it is a warning about our future. It shows how quickly rights can be erased, how destructive the raw exercise of power can be, and who gets scapegoated for the ensuing chaos.
But it also demonstrates our strength and resolve. Communities of color, LGBTQI+ people, women, girls, and transgender youth are not disappearing. We are organizing; we are resisting; we are making care, dignity, and justice real.
The Trump-Vance administration believed they could turn back the clock by cutting services, weaponizing laws and regulations, and trying to erase our identities. They have deeply underestimated us. We are not waiting for permission to exist. We are still here. We are still building. And we will not be erased.