In a final court case yesterday, a seven-year-old child was removed from their mother's care because the child (born as a boy) had "lived life entirel...
For many young people, self-identifying themselves in an unfriendly atmosphere swirls them into a state of disarray. Places for them to go, meet similar people and to feel comfortable are still massively important. In schools and universities, LGBT clubs and societies exist as a good network. If you are gay and don't enjoy going to gay clubs, it can be really hard to meet other gay people...
It's difficult to come up with a suitable comparison, but I tried to imagine news outlets misreporting that the UK's largest specialist diabetes or cancer clinic was on the verge of closing and that no alternatives were forthcoming. With untreated gender dysphoria carrying a significantly elevated risk of suicide, this is not a hyperbolic analogy.
I'm still unsure what point the author was hoping to make, other than 'gay men exist, even at the Olympics, and they want to have sex'. And while nothing explicitly homophobic was said outright, it's what was implied that cuts particularly deep for me.
The governing bodies of sport and society at large have not come to a consensus on a solution to this very complex issue. However, with the Olympics starting on Friday, it is bound to be at the forefront of many minds, both on the field and off.
My hope is that the future of theatre is emancipated from these limitations, that gender stops being used to define who we are or what we are capable of. In our lives we empathise and connect on a human level, beyond race class age and gender - shouldn't the arts reflect that too?
I don't care what's in your pants. Or what it looks like. We all come in glorious shapes and sizes, and I'm delighted that the government has decided to get on board and reach out to those who can't see themselves in the narrow tick-boxes we assign to life.
Too many members of the gay community, with our hard-won marriages, our adopted kids, our newfound respectability, regard the guys who haven't yet got there as traitors. Letting down the side. Tainting the gay brand. Doing what the homophobes accuse us of. Let's not be Pharisees. Let's welcome our gay brothers into the fold and protect them from what is still the most serious consequence of sexual risk. Let us save them from HIV. Let us offer them PrEP.
Last week was a gruelling news week in which the consequences of poor mental health were splashed across TV screens and newspaper headlines around the world. The week began with the massacre of 49 LGBT Americans in the Pulse gay nightclub in Orlando and here in the UK the week ended with the brutal murder of a popular Member of the UK parliament Jo Cox on the street of a small Yorkshire town.
Last weekend saw some of the leading figures in the world of transgender healthcare come together in Amsterdam for the 2016 WPATH (World Professional Association for Transgender Health) symposium.
We cannot really make sense of it all just yet. But we can be sad, we can be angry, and we can decide to continue the work that we started. This is a crime that stemmed from hatred, a hatred deeply-entrenched within the killer, as something that had been learned early on in life.
Although some countries have legislated against discrimination on the grounds of sexual orientation in goods and services, this isn't universal across member's states. That's why it is important for UK influence to remain at the heart of the single market, to facilitate further anti-discrimination measures. It makes no sense for LGBT people to have protection at home, but subject to discrimination elsewhere in the single market. Retreating with a Brexit vote isn't going to change that unsatisfactory position.
Contrary to popular belief, transgender people weren't born in the wrong body, they weren't misgendered, they don't want to change sex, they haven't got some altered ego - they, like everyone else, were born with a gender that was set at conception. However, this gender was different to the one with which they were labelled at birth.
If this horrendous tragedy has taught us anything, it's that there are real people who will show up to our front door uninvited, and will gun us down because they're p*ssed off at us having a snog on the dance floor. We need to support each other, because when all's said and done, we truly are all in this together. We each need to stand up and be counted, put our fist in the air and prove we're not going anywhere. We need to channel the bravery, strength and courage of those who came before us, and use it to remain defiant, even when that feels like the scariest and most difficult thing in the world.
We saw my Dad every day. He came to dinner with us each Sunday. If we were away we phoned daily. He spent Christmas with us. Came to birthday teas. Attended school plays. He engaged with our family. Laughed at the children's antics. Enjoyed our successes, commiserated when we failed.
The term queer is generally acknowledged as more of a middle class phenomenon. As rebellious as it may be, it tends to belong to those who have had the good fortune of higher education, or those who have been lucky enough to be born into an 'arty' familial circle.