In a week marked by seismic shifts for transgender visibility and rights, two stories from opposite sides of the globe have captured the attention of advocates, critics, and the broader public. In New Zealand, a government ban on puberty blockers for transgender youth has prompted outcry from researchers, clinicians, and young people themselves. Meanwhile, in the United States, Justine Lindsay—the NFL’s first openly transgender cheerleader—has come forward with allegations that her recent firing was driven by transphobia and the political climate following Donald Trump’s re-election.
The New Zealand government’s decision, announced just before November 22, 2025, bars the initiation of puberty-blocking medications for transgender youth. Citing a “lack of high-quality evidence that demonstrates the benefits or risks” of these medications for treating gender dysphoria, officials moved forward with the ban despite what many see as insufficient consultation with those most affected. According to a government press release, the move was intended to err on the side of caution. But for many, this caution comes at a steep cost.
Researchers John Fenaughty, associate professor at the University of Auckland, and Julia de Bres, associate professor at Massey University, have spent years working with trans children, youth, and their families. Their work includes the landmark Identify survey, which in 2021 gathered responses from 4,784 takatāpui and rainbow youth aged 14 to 26 across Aotearoa. Of the respondents, 115 had used puberty blockers, and their feedback was overwhelmingly positive. According to the survey, 95% of the 87 young people who shared their experiences reported positive outcomes, 3% were neutral or ambivalent, and only 1% expressed a negative experience—though that lone negative response was related to a different medication, not puberty blockers themselves.
“Puberty blockers [have] given me the opportunity to be with my thoughts, rather than the terrifying (to me) onslaught of puberty. It [has] given me time to think about my future, and what that might look like for me,” shared a 15-year-old Pākehā boy from New Zealand’s North Island, as quoted in The Conversation. For many, the most significant benefit was improved mental health, with several respondents crediting puberty blockers with saving their lives. “Massively improved all aspects of mental health, prevented my suicide, greatly increased my quality of life in every way,” wrote one. Another shared, “I am only alive today because of puberty blockers and testosterone.”
These findings are echoed by international research and clinical guidance, which generally support the careful, supervised use of puberty blockers as a reversible intervention that gives young people time to explore their identities. Yet, as The Conversation notes, the government’s announcement made no mention of alternative treatments for gender dysphoria—likely because there are none with comparable efficacy. Karen Chhour, speaking as the Act Party’s children’s spokesperson, suggested that “young people should be supported to love themselves, not change themselves with experimental medication.” Critics argue that this position, if it means denying gender-affirming care, risks violating both medical best practice and the legal prohibition on conversion therapy in Aotearoa.
Researchers warn that the absence of puberty blockers could have dire consequences. Without access to these medications, trans youth may face worsened mental health, increased distress about their bodies, social isolation, and a greater risk of self-harm and suicide. “Focusing excessively on risks without considering the benefits of interventions, or the risks of not receiving care, is not just poor scientific, medical and public health practice. It puts at risk the very lives of young people who have a right to our care,” Fenaughty and de Bres wrote.
While New Zealand’s policy shift has sparked debate over the balance of caution and care, a very different kind of struggle has unfolded in the United States. On November 23, 2025, Justine Lindsay, the NFL’s first openly transgender cheerleader, revealed she was fired earlier this year from the Carolina Panthers’ TopCats squad. Lindsay alleges her dismissal was the result of transphobia and directly linked it to Donald Trump’s re-election as president and the hiring of a new cheerleading coach.
“I was cut because I’m trans,” Lindsay said during an Instagram Live with Gaye Magazine, as reported by Metro Weekly. “I don’t wanna hear nobody saying, ‘She didn’t wanna come back.’ Why the hell would I not wanna come back to an organization that I’ve been a part of for three years? That makes no sense to me. So I was cut. I was devastated. It stung. I was hurt.”
Lindsay, who joined the TopCats in 2022 and quickly became a role model for many transgender youth, initially told Outsports in August that she would be stepping away to focus on “pageantry work and community involvement.” But in subsequent interviews, she clarified that the decision was not voluntary. “People around me were like, ‘You were the best one out there,’” she told The Gay Times. “But, I didn’t make it to the final round. I didn’t always feel like I belonged. … So yeah, I was hurt. Everybody knew that I wanted to come back. I didn’t always feel like I got the backing I was supposed to.”
Lindsay attributes her firing to two main factors: the political environment following Trump’s electoral victory and changes in the team’s coaching staff. “I had so many parents reaching out to me, even [during] my first year on the team. They were saying, ‘Oh I’m so proud of you,’ or ‘I have a trans son’ or ‘I have a trans daughter who look[s] up to you. Thank you for all that you’re doing.’ It was a big slap in the face, not only to me, but for the youth,” Lindsay said, expressing her disappointment at the impact on those who saw her as a trailblazer.
Despite the setback, Lindsay remains undeterred. She is currently developing a documentary and plans to compete in the 2026 Miss International Queen pageant, the world’s largest pageant for transgender women. “Being in the NFL was a stepping stone to get me where I need to be, and God is blessing me each and every day giving me the breath to do the work and change lives,” she told Outsports. “My focus is to educate and uplift the younger generation of leaders to focus on their dreams and goals. Don’t let a president who is delusional stop them from reaching their goals whether they are trans, African American, not American, etc.”
These two stories—one of legislative rollback in New Zealand, the other of personal loss and resilience in the United States—highlight both the vulnerability and the determination of transgender individuals in the face of shifting political and social landscapes. As debates over transgender rights and healthcare continue to play out globally, the voices of those most affected remain clear: support and affirmation can be life-changing, and the fight for dignity and equality is far from over.
