I am Every Woman: The Implications of the Supreme Court's Ruling on Gender, Sex, and Identity

By Meghana Pappu

On 16 April 2025, the UK Supreme Court ruled that the legal definition of "woman" under the Equality Act referred only to biological sex, not gender identity. I was devastated by this news. With one stroke of a gavel, it decided that even trans women with Gender Recognition Certificates (GRCs) do not qualify for sex-based protections under law.

This wasn’t just a policy decision. It was a verdict on who gets to count, about who is allowed to be seen, respected, and protected in public life; a ruling that told thousands of trans women that their safety, dignity, and identity are not just controversial, but negotiable. And when we start deciding that certain women don’t count as women, we open the door to something darker: a politics of exclusion that chips away at the humanity of anyone who doesn’t fit a rigid, outdated mold.

I am not trans. I write this because I refuse to accept a future where some women are told they don’t belong. Because when you carve out an exception in the law for one group of women, it’s only a matter of time before we all fall through the cracks.

Trans women are women. That should not be controversial in 2025. But in the aftermath of this ruling, it feels like we’ve gone backwards. This isn’t the first time the law has failed trans people. But this ruling feels especially cruel because it does so under the pretense of protecting women.  It tells millions of people – trans women, non-binary individuals, gender nonconforming people – that the law cannot see them as who they are. And when the law refuses to recognise your identity, how can it ever protect you?

I reject that. I believe we all become safer when we expand protections, not restrict them. When we meet people with compassion, not criteria.

Trans women already face disproportionate rates of violence, harassment, homelessness, and suicide. They are more likely to be attacked in public, denied healthcare, or shunned from their own families. And now, they are told by the highest court in the country that even after undergoing the long, invasive, and bureaucratic process of securing a GRC – they are still not “enough” to be protected; the ruling claiming that it “dilutes” those rights. 

But that logic assumes there is only so much dignity to go around – as if one woman’s safety comes at the cost of another’s humanity.

And that should terrify all of us.

Because if the law can deny the identity of trans women – despite medical recognition, social transition, and legal certification – what’s to stop it from denying others next? What happens to intersex women? To cis women who don’t conform to femininity? To any of us whose bodies or identities don’t tick the right boxes? This moment forces us to ask: who gets to define womanhood? The answer cannot come from the courts alone. It must come from our collective commitment to empathy, dignity, and justice. Trans women are not a threat to other women. They are not trying to erase anyone. They are simply trying to live.

What this ruling threatens is not just trans rights – it’s the very idea of womanhood as something lived, not legislated.

And yet, there are those who will call this progress. They’ll say the law is simply returning to “common sense.” But there is nothing common – or sensible – about removing rights from an already marginalised group. That is not feminism, its fear, repackaged as righteousness.

I’m not trans, but I see this as my fight, too. Because when one group’s rights are eroded, all our freedoms become more fragile. I want to live in a world where no one has to justify their existence to be safe. Where identity is not policed by bureaucratic definitions, but honoured through compassion and understanding.

The implications of this ruling are immediate. Trans women may now be excluded from women’s shelters, rape crisis centres, and other critical support services. These are not theoretical concerns. These are matters of life and death, and denying them access to safe spaces doesn’t protect anyone – it simply exposes more people to harm.

For once, I will let the hope kill me – the hope that things will change, just as they always have. We’ve seen it before – on race, sexuality, reproductive rights. The law often lags behind culture. What is deemed unthinkable one decade becomes common sense the next. This ruling may stand today, but it will not stand forever. One day, I believe we will look back on this ruling with the same sense of disbelief. But that future won’t arrive on its own. It will take protest, persistence, and solidarity.

We must demand more from our institutions and from each other. We must refuse to be divided into “real” women and “not-real” women. We must speak out when the law fails to protect the vulnerable. And most of all, we must centre the voices of trans women –not just in this debate, but in our lives, our media, our policies, and our movements.

But we cannot wait for history to fix what we won’t fight for. We must act now. Write to your representatives. Challenge transphobia where you see it. Centre the voices of trans women in these conversations. Make it clear: this issue is not niche. It is not up for debate. It is about whether people are allowed to live, safely and fully, as themselves.

Trans women are not a threat to other women. They are not a legal anomaly or a political talking point. They are women. And it is our duty – as students, as citizens, as human beings – to say so, without hesitation.

This ruling may have tried to draw a line in the sand. But history shows us: those lines can be redrawn.

Image: Wikimedia Commons