Trans activism has driven lesbian dating underground, but campaigners are fighting back – determined to create safe spaces for women

‘We are called fascists because we believe lesbian events have a right to be women-only’

*This article is from the Telegraph online

“Unless lesbians go out of our way to say we believe that trans women are literal women,” Lyndsay says, “the assumption is that we are transphobic bigots, and our reputations are trashed.”

“Please just use my first name,” she says, “because if I am identified as being in any way gender critical, trans activists will never leave me alone.”

We meet at Sapphic Central, a spacious pub in central Balham, south-west London, which hosts a lesbian night once a month. The popular evening is always packed, with a DJ in the basement. Rickety stairs lead up to an outdoor space, lined with empty beer barrels, where half of the women congregate to smoke and chat.

Over the past decade and more, extreme trans activism has influenced our major institutions, from charities to universities – even our legal system. And as a result of the mantra “trans women are women”, alongside “no debate”, lesbian dating has been driven underground.

But on Wednesday, judges sitting in the Supreme Court ruled that a man claiming to be a woman, even if he has a Gender Recognition Certificate, cannot claim to be legally a lesbian. This means that trans women (biological men) cannot demand entry to a lesbian-only event or venue. And if a space or service is designated as women-only, such as a lesbian bar, a person who was born male but identifies as a woman does not have a right to use that space.

Back in the 1980s and 1990s, the biggest threat posed to lesbians gathering at a publicised social event was that of thuggish, straight men, boozed up on cheap lager and angry that some women rejected their charms. But today, the danger is from social justice warriors, intoxicated on rigorousness, and an insistence that men claiming to be women can also be lesbians and should not be excluded.

“Every single tactic we use to meet in person, trans activists have done their best to spoil it,” says Lucy, (who does not wish to use her second name). Lucy, 44, a former firefighter who attended the Grenfell disaster, has now retrained as a family law barrister. “They purposely stand in our way. And in recent years, it has got worse.”

In 2020, Lucy was thrown off Hinge, the popular dating app, for stating that she was only interested in meeting biological women. Hinge disagreed – within 24 hours, she was permanently suspended, saying that she was banned for “breaching their guidelines”. In response, Lucy took the story to the media.

When I contacted Hinge for a right of reply, they said: “We understand that dating is personal. Users are encouraged to show up as their most authentic selves, and are welcome to share their beliefs, values, and preferences on Hinge. What we do not tolerate is hate speech or harassment.

“This includes making false reports against any user for reasons around their sexuality, relationship preferences, and (actual or perceived) gender identity.”

A lack of lesbian-only spaces

There is one dating app specifically for lesbians: it’s called Her, and Lucy had already given it a try. But she encountered a new problem. “Every other profile is a man claiming to be a woman, and presenting themselves as ultra sexualised.”

It was on Tinder that Lucy eventually met her girlfriend, but even there “you are getting a ton of profiles that are meant to be female-seeking-female where it is just men pretending to be females”.

She feels that there needs to be a major step change in the way these apps are run. “The apps need to be policed so that men are identified early on, when they attempt to join. There is good facial recognition software being used in other countries.”

Lucy recalls the early days, in the late Nineties, when she first came to London. “It was magical. On Lewisham High Road, where I lived, there were three lesbian bars.”

Twenty years ago there were dozens of lesbian-only bars across London, and several in towns and cities elsewhere in Britain. Today, aside from the odd pop-up evening, there are virtually none that are exclusively for lesbians.

For seven years Jenny Watson, 33, a former town planner, ran twice monthly women-only speed-dating events at the College Arms in Bloomsbury, central London, often attracting more than a hundred women. But in an abrupt turn of events, in July 2023, a new general manager John Mason was appointed, who had a very different view of what should constitute a night out for lesbians.

After identifying himself as “non-binary” and stating that he has a 16-year-old “trans child”, he continued: “In a worst case scenario where I’m told I have to honour those bookings, I’ll be in the market for a bunch of trans flags to redecorate the basement with… Just to reiterate and when I run any dating s--t... for lesbians, it’ll be defined as anyone who identifies as a lesbian... Trans or cis.”

Directly before posting in this group, he said to Watson, “I’m not making part of my venue exclusive where certain people can’t attend”. When she asked him whether, in principle, he would agree to the venue hosting a female lesbian-only event, he responded: “Not if it’s during open trade.” No notice was given to Watson, and she was forced to cancel the next advertised evening. She contacted a lawyer from solicitor firm Doyle Clayton who sent a formal legal letter on her behalf to the venue, arguing that what they had done was discrimination under the Equality Act. The company that owned the venue at the time, Stonegate, reversed the cancellation on paper – but the venue had become “toxic” said Watson, and she was too scared to continue the event, knowing it was under the radar of trans activists.

“These events were community lifelines,” says Watson. “It wasn’t just dating – it was safety, connection, and joy. No one gave lesbians space like that, so I built it. Now I’m building it again – but this time, no one gets to pull the plug.”

Trans activists, 19th April 2025, protesting the Supreme Court decision, London

These activist groups are mainly nascent and face this same struggle to find venues. One group, Queer Nerds for Anti-Fascism, talked about infiltrating Watson’s events, presenting this as a perfectly legitimate strand of anti-fascist activism.

“They say we are fascists because we believe lesbian events have a right to be women-only,” says Watson.

Since then she has been hard at work on her latest project, L Community, a unique online platform that acts as a meeting place for lesbians, both virtually and in person. L Community events are word-of-mouth only, and kept off social media. “It’s the only way, because they [trans activists] just turn up.”

She realised that relying on the venues formerly used wasn’t going to work, because trans activists would always try to close them down. Watson is very clear about one thing: “I want the cornerstone to be physical spaces and women interacting in person, not just online.”

Kelly Frost, an artist, aged 49, is another lesbian who has learnt from bitter experience that running a women-only night at a so-called LGBTQ+ venue is unlikely to end well. Heated campaigns against such “transphobic” and “trans-exclusionary” practices are quickly initiated, and venue owners, managers and even bar staff, inundated with threats and complaints – and fearful of losing their livelihoods, tend to cave in to the pressure.

“We had a strong feeling that we would lose the venue and so, whilst we were gutted and worried if and how we could bounce back, at the same time, there was relief. The lie that men were welcome at Shabby She was over,” says Frost.

Frost has had to find an alternative venue and start over, though “we’ve never got numbers anywhere near what we had”. She is reluctant to make public the name of the venue, in case it is similarly targeted.

This time Frost decided to “go underground”, to not advertise except by word-of-mouth, and book the space as if it was a personal get-together.

A staff member from Bridge House, who refused to give his name, told me how management made the decision to cancel the arrangement with Frost and cited a notice on social media she had posted, announcing the strict women-only policy.

“The fact it was sent around to all the people who were in the group and it made it quite clear in it that she wasn’t interested in having trans ladies in the group,” he said. “We are an all-inclusive business, and everyone is welcome. Because, sorry, no offence, but we’re paying the rent, we’re paying the wages.”

‘Lesbians are nothing if not brave’

LGB Alliance (LGBA) is a charity providing support, advice, information and social events to people who are same-sex attracted. It currently has 36 LGBA Friends’ Groups, with most (not all) very much lesbian-dominated, and the vast majority lesbian-led – possibly because gay men have not lost their spaces in the same way. LGBA has (unjustly) been described as “anti-trans” by PinkNews, and a “hate group” by Guardian hard-Left columnist Owen Jones, and the lawyer Jolyon Maugham.

Double headed plonker

La Camionera on Broadway Market in Hackney, east London, is a very publicly “trans-inclusive” bar; its name means “female truck driver” or “butch lesbian” in Spanish. It has a different feel than a women-only space exclusively for lesbians as it has to cope with men sporting earrings, lipstick and a penis. At least here, there is an openness – and perhaps it doesn’t feel that different from the old days, when we could bring gay men as guests, and often a drag queen or two would show up.

Alex, the co-owner of La Camionera is transgender, and uses male pronouns. He tells me, when I ask how he feels about the fact that some lesbians are upset at losing women-only space: “We’ve said, ‘anyone can come’, but it’s more than 99 per cent of the time just women in there. When we first opened, we got a lot of people commenting on us being, are you trans friendly? Are you bisexual friendly? I didn’t really feel the need to confirm all that.”

“By calling the bar a lesbian bar, everyone’s ‘oh yeah, being a lesbian is cool’. And the default should be that we don’t have to extrapolate massively on these terms.”

“In some ways we have gone backwards,” admits Lucy. “But we are not giving up. We will keep opening and running lesbian events, whatever trans activists throw at us, and however hard they try to shut them down. Lesbians are nothing if not brave.”

Julie Bindel is the author of Lesbians: Where are we now? (Swift)