April 28, 2025
By: Sophia Hayes

I never thought I’d be the type to stop talking to friends over something so personal, but here we are. I’ve been wrestling with this decision for months now. My friends, a couple who are both trans, had a baby late last year. I know it sounds awful to admit, but I can’t help feeling a certain distance between us now. It’s not just because they have a baby—it’s everything surrounding it.

I’ve always been a queer person, and we’ve been through so much together, fighting for acceptance and equality in a world that doesn’t always understand us. We’ve talked about the challenges of living in this climate, especially in the States. The politics, the fear of what’s next, the daily struggle for rights we shouldn’t even have to fight for in the first place. But then they made the decision to have a biological child. And that’s where the disconnect began for me.

They already have a non-bio child, a little one with severe mental disabilities, who will require care for the rest of their life. I know how hard it is to raise a child, and I have so much respect for them. But when they decided to bring another child into this world, knowing how unstable everything is, it just felt like too much. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. How could you promise safety and security to a child when the world outside feels like it’s crumbling? I fear for the future of their existing child and their future baby.

And, selfishly, I also fear for them. They are already fighting so many battles—how could they possibly handle raising another child when they’re already dealing with the constant fight for their own rights, their marriage, and their family’s basic needs? The political climate is scary, and it’s only getting worse. The reality is, I don’t know how they can promise a safe and secure future to a newborn when so much of their world feels out of control.

I can’t get over how I feel. I feel guilty. I feel like a bad friend for feeling this way. But I also feel like I can’t ignore what my gut is telling me. I want to be supportive, but I can’t escape the weight of my concerns. It’s not that I don’t love them. I do. I just don’t understand why they made this choice when the risks are so much greater now than before.

So, I did what I thought was best for me. I distanced myself. I couldn’t continue to pretend that everything was fine when I was hurting inside. It’s been hard. Really hard. They don’t know how I feel, and I don’t know if I ever will have the strength to tell them. But right now, I can’t be around them without feeling this gnawing sense of discomfort. It feels like a betrayal, even though I know it’s not.

I’m just trying to figure out how to navigate my emotions, especially as a queer person myself, and how I can still show love while wrestling with my doubts. I want to respect their journey, but I also need to protect my own peace. I just hope that one day, when the world becomes more stable and when we can breathe freely again, I’ll be able to reconnect and understand their choices more clearly. Until then, I’m taking time for myself.

It’s hard to admit, but sometimes the hardest part is realizing that you can love someone but still feel like you can’t be in their space at the moment. I’m hoping that time will heal this.