I had a difficult time reading the gut-wrenching accounts from the parents of gay children who are part of the Supreme Court case about conversion therapy bans and freedom of speech.

All claim their family relationships were seriously damaged by the widely discredited practice, and that their children were permanently scarred or even driven to suicide.

The case, Chiles vs. Salazar, arose from a 2019 Colorado law that outlaws conversion therapy, whose practitioners say they can change a minor's sexual orientation or gender identity to align with heterosexual and cisgender norms. The therapy is considered harmful and ineffective by mainstream medical and mental health organizations.

At least two dozen other states have similar laws on the books, all of them good-faith attempts to prevent the lasting harm that can result when a young person is told not just that they can change who they are, but that they should change because God wants them to. The laws were inspired by the horrific experiences of gay and transgender youths whose families and churches tried to change them.

The case was brought by Kayley Chiles, a licensed counselor and practicing Christian who believes, according to her attorneys, that "people flourish when they live consistently with God's design, including their biological sex."

Colorado, incidentally, has never charged Chiles or anyone else in connection with the 2019 law.

Chiles is represented by the Alliance Defending Freedom, a conservative Christian law firm known for its challenges to gay and transgender rights, including one brought to the Supreme Court in 2023 by Christian web designer Lorie Smith, who did not want to be forced to create a site for a gay wedding, even though no gay couple had ever approached her to do so. The Court's conservative majority ruled in Smith's favor. All three liberals dissented.

As for conversion therapy, counselors often encourage clients to blame their LGBTQ+ identities on trauma, abuse or their dysfunctional families. (If it can be changed, it can't possibly be innate, right?)

In oral arguments, it appeared the conservative justices were inclined to accept Chiles' claim that Colorado's ban on conversion therapy amounts to viewpoint discrimination, a violation of the 1st Amendment's free speech guarantees. The liberal minority was more skeptical.

But proponents of the bans say there is a big difference between speech and conduct. They argue that a therapist's attempt to change a minor's sexual orientation or gender identity amounts to conduct, and can rightfully be regulated by states, which, after all, lawfully impose conditions on all sorts of licensed professionals. (The bans, by the way, do not apply to ministers or unlicensed practitioners, and are generally not applicable to adults.)

Each competing brief whipsawed my emotions. The 1st Amendment is sacred in so many ways, and yet states have a critical interest in protecting the health and welfare of children. How to find a balance?

After reading the brief submitted by a group of 1st Amendment scholars, I was convinced the Colorado law should be ruled unconstitutional. As they wrote of Chiles, she doesn't hook her clients to electrodes or give them hormones, as some practitioners of conversion therapy have done in the past. "The only thing she does is talk, and listen."

Then I turned to the parents' briefs.

Linda Robertson, an evangelical Christian mother of four, wrote that she was terrified when her 12-year-old son Ryan confided to her in 2001 that he was gay. "Crippling fear consumed me — it stole both my appetite and my sleep. My beautiful boy was in danger and I had to do everything possible to save him."

Robertson's search led her to "therapists, authors and entire organizations dedicated to helping kids like Ryan resist temptation and instead become who God intended them to be."

Ryan was angry at first, then realized, his mother wrote, that "he didn't want to end up in hell, or be disapproved of by his parents and his church family." Their quest to make Ryan straight led them to "fervent prayer, scripture memorization, adjustments in our parenting strategies, conversion therapy based books, audio and video recordings and live conferences with titles like, 'You Don't Have to be Gay' and 'How to Prevent Homosexuality.' "

They also attended a conference put on by Exodus International, the "ex-gay" group that folded in 2013 after its former founder repudiated the group's mission and proclaimed that gay people are loved by God.

After six years, Ryan was in despair. "He still didn't feel attracted to girls; all he felt was completely alone, abandoned and needed the pain to stop," his mother wrote. Worse, he felt that God would never accept him or love him. Ryan died at age 20 of a drug overdose after multiple suicide attempts.

As anyone with an ounce of common sense or compassion knows, such "therapy" is a recipe for shame, anguish and failure.

Yes, there are kids who question their sexuality, their gender identity or both, and they deserve to discuss their internal conflicts with competent mental health professionals. I can easily imagine a scenario where a teenager tells a therapist they think they're gay or trans but don't want to be.

The job of a therapist is to guide them through their confusion to self-acceptance, not tell them what the Bible says they should be.

If recent rulings are any guide, the Supreme Court is likely to overturn the Colorado conversion therapy ban.

This would mean, in essence, that a therapist has the right to inflict harm on a struggling child in the name of free speech.

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