Frozen out of charity after I said biological men can’t breastfeed
The original (paywalled) article is here.
Miriam Main in the Sunday Times 17.11.24
The final straw came on a Saturday morning a couple of weeks ago. I logged on to Facebook and saw (yet) another comment calling me transphobic and comparing me to a Nazi. I’d finally had enough and decided to resign as a trustee and member of the council of directors for La Leche League GB, the UK’s oldest breastfeeding charity.
It wasn’t a snap decision, but the result of months of mistruths, propaganda and insidious comments directed at me on social media. These attacks were a response to the concerns I and others expressed over a new policy to allow biological men — trans women — to attend support groups.
This isn’t a decision I’ve taken lightly. After giving birth to my eldest child in 2016 I struggled to breastfeed and was surprised at the deep biological need within me to persist through the challenges. The league, LLL, which offers advice and meetings for breastfeeding mothers, provided me with the empathy and support that I desperately needed. I went from being a mum looking for support to being one offering support to others. In 2019 I became a leader (breastfeeding counsellor) and ran support groups for my local community on top of my day job as a vet. Last year, I joined the council of directors.
These language changes, led by a group of zealots from within the organisation, very quickly evolved into a complete departure from LLL’s philosophy and mission, which is to unapologetically advocate for mothers and babies. On April 17, after many of us sought clarity over the way terms like “gender” and “sex” were being used, a letter from the LLL international board, which is US-based, to all British leaders announced that trans women, who are biologically male, would be allowed into LLL support meetings.
When LLL was founded in America in 1956, it was a totally new concept, and has led the way for millions of mothers ever since. Now active in almost 90 countries, LLL trains its leaders to provide empathetic, evidence-based information and support in the normal course of breastfeeding.
In addition to offering this on a one-to-one basis and providing leaflets, books and web pages, a core part of the charity’s support is holding regular meetings where mothers come together. Single-sex spaces for breastfeeding are necessary to protect the “mother-baby dyad” — that unique and symbiotic relationship between woman and baby. I remember feeling a bit miffed that my husband couldn’t stay with me at the first LLL meeting I attended, but it didn’t take long for me to understand why.
It is in these meetings that women bare all emotionally and physically. They can talk about their sex life after having a baby; how they feel about their changing body; the physical sensations they experience; perineal tears and prolapses; pressure to give a bottle; and so much more. There are often tears of joy and pain. It is raw and vulnerable, and LLL provides safety and reassurance.
But this safety is diminishing. In recent months, I and other leaders have raised legitimate concerns about several issues, such as the physical wellbeing of a baby being breastfed by a biological man. (The assertion here being that biological males are capable of breastfeeding babies by way of taking synthetic hormones and inducing lactation via nipple stimulation.)
But this year things began to shift. It all started with changes to language. In LLL publications and materials, I noticed “mother” being replaced with “parent”, “breastfeed” being replaced with “chestfeed”, and the phrase “breastfeeding families” being used instead of “breastfeeding mothers”. Leaders who expressed concerns about the clarity of such language — for example for women for whom English is not their first language — were ridiculed and abused.
These language changes, led by a group of zealots from within the organisation, very quickly evolved into a complete departure from LLL’s philosophy and mission, which is to unapologetically advocate for mothers and babies. On April 17, after many of us sought clarity over the way terms like “gender” and “sex” were being used, a letter from the LLL international board, which is US-based, to all British leaders announced that trans women, who are biologically male, would be allowed into LLL support meetings.
When LLL was founded in America in 1956, it was a totally new concept, and has led the way for millions of mothers ever since. Now active in almost 90 countries, LLL trains its leaders to provide empathetic, evidence-based information and support in the normal course of breastfeeding.
In addition to offering this on a one-to-one basis and providing leaflets, books and web pages, a core part of the charity’s support is holding regular meetings where mothers come together. Single-sex spaces for breastfeeding are necessary to protect the “mother-baby dyad” — that unique and symbiotic relationship between woman and baby. I remember feeling a bit miffed that my husband couldn’t stay with me at the first LLL meeting I attended, but it didn’t take long for me to understand why.
It is in these meetings that women bare all emotionally and physically. They can talk about their sex life after having a baby; how they feel about their changing body; the physical sensations they experience; perineal tears and prolapses; pressure to give a bottle; and so much more. There are often tears of joy and pain. It is raw and vulnerable, and LLL provides safety and reassurance.
But this safety is diminishing. In recent months, I and other leaders have raised legitimate concerns about several issues, such as the physical wellbeing of a baby being breastfed by a biological man. (The assertion here being that biological males are capable of breastfeeding babies by way of taking synthetic hormones and inducing lactation via nipple stimulation.)
There are other concerns too. One is over the sense of security that women who attend our meetings may not feel if a biological man is present. There is also the need for privacy from biological men that women with certain beliefs have.
For raising these concerns, we were called transphobic and compared to racists and Nazis in online forums. The worst part was that the people insulting us were other leaders; people who are supposed to be skilled at dealing sensitively with highly divisive topics and with kind, respectful communication.
On one occasion, a leader opposed to our position said that they hoped all those who disagreed with their view on inclusion would “hurry up and die”. There has been schoolyard-level bullying, name-calling and ad hominem attacks across social media. This is something I endured for months and that other trustees are still enduring.
When myself and other trustees escalated our concerns to the charity’s international board, which is based in America, their response was to send an email to all LLL GB leaders clearly stating that we were obliged to provide breastfeeding support “to all nursing parents, regardless of their gender identity or sex”.
I was deeply concerned by this and felt it could damage the women and children we care for.
The charitable objectives of La Leche League Great Britain, as listed on the Charity Commission website, are to “promote the physical and psychological health of mothers and children through education in the technique of breastfeeding”. It is my firm conviction that promoting breastfeeding by biological men would contravene these objectives.
Despite this, the international board is standing firm that we must support male lactation and breastfeeding if we want to be leaders.
They have demonstrated their power by removing the accreditation of myself and several other leaders, leaving hundreds of women who regularly attend La Leche League meetings bereft of support.
The international board has shown that theoretical male lactation trumps the needs of women living in the UK. I believe this is what finally pushed Marian Tompson, a 94-year-old American founding member of LLL, to resign this month.
Many have asked why I stayed for so long or how other leaders can stand this. It is very hard to describe how life-changing LLL has been for me, and the emotional ties and responsibility that I feel towards the charity and the mothers I helped and am yet to help.
The grief I feel at losing LLL from my life is huge. Until now, it has been easier for leaders to turn a blind eye and carry on doing good work but enough is enough. The time has come for other leaders in Britain to listen to their hearts, and decide what to do next.

