In Conservative Wyoming, Signs of a Thaw on Same-Sex Marriage LARAMIE, Wyo. - For State Representative Cathy Connolly, Wyoming's only openly gay legislator, this winter brought a rare moment of promise: her bill to create domestic partnerships advanced further than anything like it in the history of this deep red state - sailing through committee and onto the floor of the full House. Victory seemed possible. But when a crucial vote came, the bill failed. Afterward, a colleague who had voted against the measure hugged Ms. Connolly, a Democrat from Laramie, and told her that it was nothing personal. "I had to say, "Yes it is," " Ms. Connolly said, recalling the conversation several months later. Being gay in Wyoming, known as the Equality State, has never been simple, and last week's Supreme Court rulings, hailed as a victory for same-sex marriage, did little to change that. While many gay couples here cheered the decisions, they also said they woke up the next morning not feeling much more equal than they had the day before. "It's remarkably frustrating," said Carl Oleson, who lives with his partner of 16 years, Rob Johnston, in Casper, near the center of Wyoming's oil and gas boom. There are no protections here. None. Nationwide, the movement to legalize same-sex marriage may be bolstered by court rulings, growing political support and shifting public opinion. But for gay couples who live in the conservative rural heartland, like Mr. Oleson and Mr. Johnston, any changes in the landscape feel as slow as the upwelling of mountain ranges. Like 36 other states, Wyoming limits marriage to a man and a woman. State lawmakers have voted down attempts to include gay and transgender people in Wyoming's antidiscrimination laws. There are no hate-crime laws on the books, according to the Human Rights Campaign, a gay rights advocacy group. For gay couples, life can be a delicate balance. The closest gay bar is often a long drive south to Colorado. Some couples said they introduce their partners as friends or roommates and shy away from holding hands or kissing in public. "You have to balance between so many things here," said Mr. Oleson, who said he manages a retail store but declined to be more specific. I still have to be a little bit discreet. Wyoming has never been easy to pigeonhole when it comes to gay rights. Republicans dominate state and local politics, and support for gun rights, low taxes and small government runs as deep as groundwater. But so does a cowboy libertarian streak, residents say, rooted in ranches, homesteads and a notion of "You live your life, and I'll live mine." Wyoming repealed its sodomy law in 1977, a generation before the Supreme Court declared such laws unconstitutional. Several times in recent years, Republican lawmakers have rejected efforts by social conservatives to ban the recognition of same-sex marriages from other states or to add "defense of marriage" amendments to the State Constitution. Eight years ago, an openly gay 27-year-old named Guy Padgett served a term as the mayor of Casper. People who would never support same-sex marriage nonetheless gave him a fair shake, he said. In a state where many voters are on a first-name basis with the governor and see their elected officials in church or cafes, it is harder to vilify people you disagree with, residents said. "I've never felt uncomfortable or threatened or out of place," said Mr. Padgett, a Democrat who now lives in Denver. There is a strong streak in the Republican Party in Wyoming to let people live their lives - that sort of respect for space. In some more conservative quarters, the Supreme Court's decision to strike down the federal Defense of Marriage Act felt like an attack on that let-live ethos. Mark Baker, a Republican state representative from Rock Springs, said Wyoming was comfortable with marriage as it stood in the state. He said he had considered the arguments for allowing everyone to marry - his half sister is a lesbian, he said - but called same-sex marriage the first step on a "slippery slope." Once you go down that path, where do you stop? Mr. Baker said. Is it going to be legal for four or five people to marry because they love one another? Ms. Connolly said she was aware of that argument when she introduced her bill last winter to create domestic partnerships for gay couples - the latest of several failed attempts to cajole her conservative colleagues. Ms. Connolly, a professor of women's studies at the University of Wyoming, had forged friendships and close working relationships with many Republican colleagues, but to at least a few of them she was still a source of discomfort. This year, one legislator approached Ms. Connolly and told her, "I love you, but I don't want to know anything about your personal life," which that legislator called "offensive." "I had to walk away," Ms. Connolly said, "and say, "I am not offensive." " Ms. Connolly found allies among several moderate Republicans - critical support in a chamber with 52 Republicans and eight Democrats. The two biggest newspapers in the state endorsed the measure. And it passed a committee vote, 7 to 2. When it came time to argue the measure on the floor of the Wyoming House, the bill's supporters decided that their best hope was to let its Republican supporters do the talking. Ms. Connolly and the other Democrats sat quietly. It was defeated by a vote of 35 to 24. Despite the loss, to some it was a sign that things were changing. Slowly, but changing. The Rev. Dee Lundberg, the openly gay pastor of the United Church of Christ in Casper, has been called Satan's spawn at least once since coming to Wyoming in 2008, and she said she had been treated coldly at times by the city's ministerial groups. But during last summer's rodeo parade, the church flew a big rainbow flag on the back of its trailer and, Ms. Lundberg said, "only got flipped off once." "It's a slow crawl," she said. But every year there's been a teeny tiny bit of progress. A generation from now, it'll be a nonissue.