Dylan Mulvaney’s new book has sparked fresh debate about the Bud Light partnership that made her a lightning rod for criticism. The transgender influencer’s memoir, released this week, details her struggles with mental health and backlash after the beer company featured her in a promotional campaign. While Mulvaney frames the controversy as a story of survival, critics argue it highlights the risks of brands diving headfirst into divisive cultural issues.
The Bud Light campaign faced immediate backlash from everyday Americans who felt the company was pushing radical ideology. Mulvaney’s video, which showed her holding a custom beer can, ignited calls for boycotts and drew condemnation from figures like Kid Rock and Florida Governor Ron DeSantis. Many saw the partnership as another example of corporations prioritizing fringe activism over their core customers. Sales plummeted, and Anheuser-Busch lost billions in market value—a clear sign of public rejection.
Mulvaney’s book claims she battled suicidal thoughts during the fallout, blaming conservative media and “capitalism” for her distress. But critics point out that her social media following grew during the controversy, with nearly 100,000 new Instagram followers. Some question whether the mental health narrative distracts from the broader issue: companies alienating their base to chase trendy social agendas.
The beer giant’s lukewarm response to the backlash frustrated both sides. While Mulvaney accused Bud Light of failing to defend her, conservatives saw the company’s silence as proof of corporate cowardice. Anheuser-Busch’s CEO eventually claimed they “never intended to divide people,” but the damage was done. The debacle became a cautionary tale about corporations gambling their reputations on polarizing figures.
Mulvaney’s insistence that she’s “addicted to oversharing” raises eyebrows. Her book leans heavily on victimhood, yet she continues to profit from the very attention she condemns. Critics argue this reflects a pattern of activists weaponizing personal struggles to silence dissent while capitalizing on controversy. The “eternal optimist” image she promotes clashes with her bleak portrayal of the Bud Light fallout.
The fallout exposed a cultural rift. Mulvaney claims she’s “a woman no matter what my passport says,” but many Americans reject this redefinition of biology. Her dismissal of concerns about women’s spaces and rights—framing critics as “hateful”—only deepens the divide. The book’s release coinciding with Women’s History Month has further inflamed tensions.
While Mulvaney receives accolades from LGBTQ+ groups, mainstream backlash persists. Awards like Attitude magazine’s “Woman of the Year” ring hollow to those who see biological reality being erased. The influencer’s claim that she represents “joy” contrasts sharply with her admission of craving “nothingness” during the Bud Light crisis.
Two years later, the Bud Light boycott still stings. Mulvaney’s book may win sympathy in progressive circles, but for many, it’s a reminder of corporate overreach. As brands increasingly face pressure to pick sides in cultural battles, this saga proves customers won’t tolerate being lectured—or sold beer by activists. The free market spoke loudly, and Bud Light’s empty cans became symbols of a lesson unlearned.