Losing the Lifeline: What the End of LGBTQ+ Youth Crisis Support on 988 Really Means
- Nicholas Gulick

- Jul 16
- 4 min read
On July 17, 2025, a quiet yet devastating event will occur. The federal government will eliminate the “Press 3” option on the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — a pathway that connected LGBTQ+ young people directly to counselors trained to support them. This may not be front-page news, but it should stop us in our tracks and move us into action. LGBTQ+ Youth Crisis Support is vital!
Because behind that little phone prompt were over 1.3 million moments of courage — times when a young person reached out and said, “I need help.”
For many queer and trans youth, “Press 3” wasn’t just a button; it was a lifeline. It was the first time someone picked up the phone and understood. It was the first time they didn’t have to explain their pronouns before getting support. It was a moment of safety in a world that too often makes them feel unsafe just for being who they are.
And now, it’s going away.

A Dangerous Pattern
This move — quietly executed by the Trump administration under the rationale of “expired funding” — is part of a bigger and more disturbing pattern. Recently, the Supreme Court upheld Tennessee’s ban on gender-affirming care for trans youth in U.S. v. Skrmetti, signaling that states are free to restrict life-saving healthcare under the guise of “medical regulation.”
Then, in October, the administration has proposed a complete elimination of all federal funding for LGBTQ-specific crisis services. Not just “Press 3” — everything. Gone from the budget. Erased.
What does it mean to be a young person watching this happen in real time? What does it mean to see every system that could have protected you slowly disappear?
It means we are sending a message. And it’s the wrong one.
Why This Hits So Hard
We know the numbers. LGBTQ+ youth are four times more likely to attempt suicide than their straight, cisgender peers. According to The Trevor Project’s 2024 National Survey, 41% of LGBTQ youth seriously considered suicide in the past year. That number rises to 46% for transgender and nonbinary youth. These aren’t statistics. They’re people.
And crucially, more than half of the young people who used “Press 3” said they wouldn’t have reached out if the LGBTQ-specific option didn’t exist. Which means removing it isn’t just a loss of convenience — it’s a loss of access. Of trust. Of safety.
In a world where queer youth are being targeted by legislation, stripped of rights, erased from classrooms, and vilified in public discourse, crisis support can’t be generic. It has to be specific. It has to be affirming. It has to be designed by and for the people it’s meant to help.
On The Trevor Project — And Why We Can’t Let This Go Quietly
It’s true that The Trevor Project, the nonprofit that helped build the “Press 3” service, isn’t perfect. There have been concerns — about workplace culture, data governance, and representation. These critiques are valid and necessary. And, we should never stop demanding that our institutions do better.
But this is not the time to walk away. It’s here that Audre Lorde’s words ring loudest: “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.”
We cannot confuse imperfection with irrelevance. We cannot dismantle life-saving mechanisms in pursuit of purity. Reform is essential. Accountability is vital. But abandoning LGBTQ youth in crisis because a nonprofit fell short in some areas? That’s not justice. That’s cruelty.
What’s Still Here — And What’s at Risk
Even as “Press 3” disappears, it’s important to know that support still exists.
You can still call The Trevor Project’s 24/7 Lifeline at 1-866-488-7386, or text “START” to 678-678, or reach out online at thetrevorproject.org.
You can call Trans Lifeline at 877-565-8860, a peer-led hotline that will never call emergency services without consent.
You can reach the LGBT National Youth Talkline at 800-246-7743, or search for local LGBTQ centers offering support near you.
You can find community online through TrevorSpace or Q Chat Space, safe places to connect with other queer youth.
You can still call 988, but after July 17, you may not reach someone trained in LGBTQ-specific care.
And that matters. Because when you are in crisis, you shouldn’t have to teach someone how to talk to you before they can help.
Where We Go From Here
Let July 17 be more than a loss. Let it be a turning point.
Let it be the moment we started talking about suicide prevention, not just as a hotline but as a system — one that must be rooted in equity, in dignity, and in the lived realities of those most at risk. Let it be the moment we stopped accepting “neutral” as good enough.
If you’re reading this and you’re hurting: You are not alone.
If you’re reading this and you’re outraged: Good. Stay that way.
Support LGBTQ youth. Share resources. Demand that your lawmakers restore this funding. Donate to the organizations doing the work. Show up in ways that are loud, messy, inconvenient, imperfect — but real.
Because the world is telling queer youth they don’t matter.
We have to be louder in saying they do.



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