Earlier this week, President Donald Trump posted a bone-chilling message on Truth Social threatening to exterminate the entire civilization of Iran if a deal on the Strait of Hormuz wasn’t reached by a self-imposed deadline. He later walked back the remarks, as he often does, but not before putting his governing style on full display: violence (and threats of violence) before anything else.

For many queer and trans Americans, this behavior is hauntingly familiar. Trump’s political playbook, which is rooted in intimidation, spectacle and domination, mirrors forms of bullying we’ve spent a lifetime navigating.

But it has also, for some, sharpened coping skills: Queer people are particularly equipped for survival when the world feels like it’s falling apart, whether that’s by consuming queer art, surrounding themselves with their local community, or turning inward.

We spoke with queer and trans people across the country (and provided limited identifying information out of caution) about how they’re processing these displays of power, what feels at stake, and more importantly, where they’re finding moments of relief.

Croix (She/Her), New York City

I am coping with Trump by being selective of how I take in information and spend my time, it’s very obvious there are many terrible things happening to trans and queer people in America, so I’ve been trying to limit what I see and what I consume.

I’m also trying to practice patience and have a little bit of hope. I think it helps a lot to be in New York City because we saw what people can do with [Mayor] Mamdani. I think holding on to that hope is super important especially because it’s very obvious Trump and his new regime are trying to do a lot of things to make us feel like we don’t have any power. But we do.

This has caused me to be more spiritual and reflect internally on all the suffering, and has made me more of a spiritual person. I’ve been drawn to Buddhism more because of how it discusses suffering. How we respond to suffering is very important.

Demetrius (He/Him), Florida

I think seeing someone in power who has so much aggression and uses that aggression to start wars is empowering the wrong people. I think a lot of queer people feel like we’re regressing and that we have to hide — and that’s really bad considering how hard we’ve worked as a community to move forward.

Trump’s toxic masculinity is stripping us of that progress which is really sad. I feel like the world was moving in a direction that I was proud to live in and now it feels like not so much the case anymore.

I think one way I’m staying hopeful is embracing queer media and queer artists who are still creating through everything that’s happening. It takes a lot to still find that creative voice when there’s still so much repression and people combating your identity. Spending time with other queer people and talking helps a lot, too.

Ashton (He/Him), Denver

I keep going back to the word “seen,” and what it means to take up space and hold joy in the midst of chaos. It might sound crazy, but I cope by looking good. If I look good, I feel good. Not just my outside but also my inside ― my spirit is looking good. Nurturing my spirit is really important, and that’s challenging given the current news cycle, so I’m very mindful of the media I consume.

Lately I’ve been consuming the creative contributions of queer artists. All the great artists I admire have historically used their art to cope, so that’s my blueprint. Maybe one day it’s writing and recording new music, or rereading a James Baldwin novel or binge-watching a new show to analyze the Black or queer characters in it. It sounds corny, but my existence is my resistance, and my art is how I cope.

Jake (They/Them), Texas

Amidst all the chaos that he’s trying to provoke onto the world, I think that one thing I’m looking to is the power of community and how inspiring it is. That has brought me joy. In the past, the word “community” has been thrown around as a buzz word, but right now, at a time when we’re desperately yearning to find it, we’re building a new definition.

We’re all in our own circles, but they interlock and intertwine, and if we’re able to spread joy and spread change and inspire in our own circles, it has a ripple effect. Sticking together as a family and looking out for each other, protecting each other has brought us joy — whether that’s in the form of self-care or partying.

Jezz (They/Them), California

This administration’s rhetoric and agenda is a toxin to people who have an agenda of care, creativity and collective growth. I’m coping by staying rooted in my values, adapting to the times without losing my sense of purpose, and collecting evidence that the world I want to live in is not only possible, but it’s being built by people everywhere, every day.

To combat a toxin that takes over the air around us, we have to find clean spaces to breathe in and be adamant about our innate dignity. We need to remember that our power isn’t in a governing entity — it’s in our history, our interconnectedness and our creativity.

I do this through my artistic practices and by continuing to build a world around me that reflects the kind of world I want to live in: inclusive, imaginative and oriented toward a livable future.

Dylan Bass (They/Them), Brooklyn

I’ve found a lot of relief in consuming media, specifically media and theory that touches on the ideas of queer utopias, such as Larry Mitchell’s “The Faggots” and “Friends Between Revolutions.” Also, spending time with friends, continuing to do things that I love, finding new ways to get inspired, and to follow my dreams.

I’m also in my last semester of social work school, and I’ve been working on a project about queer family building and family structure, and how legislation has impacted these things over time. Even though it’s such a daunting and scary time, whenever I talk to different queer people who are building families and making art, I feel so inspired and hopeful.