Navigating Anti-LGBTQ+ Comments in Agriculture

Over the past 16 years, I’ve been building and managing advocacy campaigns, working with global brands, moderating pages with over a million followers, and coaching thousands of farmers and ranchers on how to respond when comments and conversations escalate. Lately, anti-LGBTQ+ comments have taken that to an entirely new level for me.

But the truth is, when the comments get personal (like when someone questions whether LGBTQ+ people even exist in agriculture), it still stings.

Sometimes it hits like a punch to the gut. More often, it builds slowly, like a weight that lingers long after you put down the phone or walk away.

And even with all my experience, I still don’t always get it right. I don’t always know what to say in the moment. Sometimes I scroll past or hide the comment, trying not to let it get to me. Sometimes I respond more sharply than I meant to. Other times I sit with it for a while before I figure out what I actually wanted to say.

If you’ve ever been there, I see you.

Here are a few things I’ve learned that help me navigate those comments and conversations. They’re not perfect answers, but I’m still working on them, too.

Not Every Comment Deserves a Response

One of the lessons I’ve learned, especially when managing online conversations, is that not every anti-LGBTQ+ comment is worth your energy. That’s true online, but it’s also true in real life.

There’s a difference between someone open to conversation and someone who’s looking to provoke. You’re allowed to step away from a discussion that isn’t respectful or productive. That doesn’t make you weak. It means you’re protecting your sanity instead of playing into someone else’s script.

It took me time to recognize the difference. But when I did, and when I can put it into practice, it changed how I engage. I don’t have to take every debate head-on. And neither do you.

It’s Okay to Be Emotional in Response to anti-LGBTQ+ Comments

We’re often told to stay calm, keep it professional, and not take things personally. But when someone dismisses your experiences or questions your place in the community, it is personal.

It’s human to feel upset, frustrated, or just plain exhausted. You don’t have to apologize for that.

Some of the comments that have stuck with me the most haven’t come from strangers on the internet. They’ve come from people inside our ag communities, people who’ve shared the same spaces, worked the same cattle, lived similar experiences.

If you’ve ever felt like you were overreacting to “just a comment,” you’re not. You’re reacting to something you’ve probably had to face more than once. And you shouldn’t have to carry that weight alone.

Setting Boundaries Doesn’t Always Mean Speaking Up

I know people love to suggest having a few go-to lines ready. I’ve tried. But most of the time, those scripted responses don’t come naturally for me in the moment.

Sometimes I change the subject. Sometimes I walk away. Sometimes I go quiet and let the silence speak for itself.

That’s still a boundary.

You don’t have to offer a perfect response to draw the line. A shift in tone. A pause. A decision to stop explaining yourself to someone who’s already made up their mind. Those are boundaries, too.

If you’ve ever held back from responding and then questioned yourself later, please know that protecting your peace isn’t a failure. It’s a skill.

Your Story Carries Weight

I’ve worked in advocacy long enough to know that facts and stats don’t always change minds. I’ve seen well-crafted infographics get ignored, while a simple personal story cuts through the noise.

When conversations get hard, like when someone questions why we talk about LGBTQ+ inclusion in agriculture, it’s not the data that we need to fall back on. It’s our personal stories.

I could share what it felt like the first time I showed up as my full self in an ag space. I can talk about the people who have quietly reached out and said “thank you” because they have often felt alone in this. I reflect on the years I spent hiding parts of who I was to stay safe or to belong.

That doesn’t mean everyone will listen. But sometimes, someone will. And that’s enough. You never know who’s in the room, quietly watching and listening because they feel the same way.

You don’t have to speak for everyone. Just be honest about what’s real for you.

Sometimes Silence Is the Strongest Move

There are times when I’ve gone quiet, not because I had nothing to say, but because I knew it wasn’t worth the effort.

Maybe the person wasn’t listening. Maybe they weren’t in the right mindset for that conversation. Maybe I just didn’t have it in me that day, and that’s valid.

Walking away doesn’t mean you’ve lost the conversation. It means you’re making a decision about how to spend your energy. And if you’ve spent years showing up, educating, correcting, and advocating, you know that energy is not unlimited.

You don’t have to fight every fight to make a difference. Sometimes, choosing your sanity is the strongest move you can make.

Allies, Your Voice Matters, Even When It’s Quiet

If you’re someone who supports LGBTQ+ inclusion in agriculture, but you’re not sure what to say when things get tense, know this – you don’t have to have the perfect words.

If you’ve ever hesitated because you didn’t want to say the wrong thing when you see or hear anti-LGBTQ+ comments, try starting with this: “I want you to know I’ve got your back.” It’s simple. And it matters.

It helps more than you realize when someone speaks up with a simple, “That’s not okay,” or even redirects the conversation before it goes off the rails. Sometimes it’s a look. A pause. A follow-up text later that says, “I saw that, and I’m with you.”

We notice. And it helps.

Your voice carries differently. You may not feel the weight of these conversations in the same way, but that’s exactly why your presence can make such a difference when it’s needed most.

Make Time to Come Back to Yourself

Even when things go well, conversations like this can stick with you. They sit heavily. And if they don’t get talked about or let out, they build.

I’ve learned to check in with myself after tough moments. Sometimes I text a friend. Sometimes I go for a run or spend time with the cattle. Sometimes I just need quiet.

Whatever your version of that reset looks like, take it. There’s nothing weak about needing recovery time. That’s not overreacting. That’s being human.

You’re Not the Only One Carrying This

So if this feels familiar, keep showing up. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just be honest. If you’re exhausted, you’re not alone. If you’re quiet, you’re still part of this.

And if you’re ready to speak, your voice will help someone else breathe a little easier. That’s the power of choosing to stay visible, even when the conversation is hard.