Upcoming Retreat (April 3-6, 2025)
Healing Leaders: A Transformative Leadership ExperienceJoin me and my co-facilitator, Candis Fox, at Drala Mountain Center in Colorado for a long-weekend retreat for healing leaders. Candis will bring their financial wellness magic to help participants heal wounds around money (i.e. power, pleasure, giving and receiving). I’ll invite you to go deeper as a leader with self-reflection, vulnerability practices, journal exercises and more. On program days, we’ll help you release stored emotion through somatic breath work. Find out why healing leaders are better leaders. Click to learn more »

Embodied Defiance: Queer Joy as Political Power
Starting on Monday last week, I received several text messages and emails from people who love me, kind (cis/het) people who worry about the future of their LGBTQ+ friends and family members. They said things like “I love you and want to check in on you.,” “My heart goes out to you.,” and “I’m sorry. I’ll always be here for you.”
Now, I hadn’t watched any part of the inauguration or listened to any speeches. I started with my daily practice, stayed off of social media for mental health self-care and focused my entire day on connecting with clients and talking with colleagues about projects and retreats we’re leading. So, it was only through the outreach that I knew my community was being attacked by its own government. And, even though none of this came as a surprise to me, preparation never feels like enough when it hits.
While I appreciated the loving intention behind their words, these offerings and condolences for victimization not only led to some nervous system dysregulation in me, they also served to give this rhetoric power. I did not (and do not) consent to either.
My deep knowing is that no one can erase me or any of my non-binary and transgender community—especially not an avatar for a collapsing empire, grasping for “power over” as many people as possible who don’t fit a controllable narrative.
Just because someone claims that a narrowed version of an existing construct is the new law of the land, our joy as a queer community can never be stolen, nor could it ever alter the elation we feel being alive and embodied. (I’m not even here to educate on the obvious—that biological sex and gender identity are two vastly different things.)
As someone who is genderfluid, uses they/them pronouns, and recently had top surgery (non-binary chest masculinization), I can speak to the euphoria of being in a body that finally feels like mine.
The most defiant, rebellious, warrior-like thing we can do right now is to stay alive. If you don’t think that’s a high enough bar, ask someone in the queer community who’s struggling with erasure, isolation, fear of physical harm, potential forced detransition, and discrimination in healthcare, housing, employment and on social media.
And, beyond mere existence or passive endurance, let's remind the collective of the power of active resistance. As a community, we’ve been fighting for the right to exist for decades, starting, not with Stonewall in 1969 but with the Mattachine Society back in 1950. (I purposely have not linked to a .gov website address because we don’t know how far this administration will go in its attempts to eradicate LGBTQ+ history from its internet archives.)
Today, the more we experience joy, laughter and play, the more freedom we feel—despite the perceived magnitude of these executive orders.
Our resistance is multilayered and nuanced. It's not just about fighting against oppressive systems, but creating generative spaces of radical belonging. When we gather—in community centers, with our chosen families, in digital spaces, in protests, in art studios, in academic halls—we are reimagining what collective liberation can look like. We are writing our own narratives, centering our own experiences, and refusing to be defined by the narrow, fearful imaginations of those who seek to control us.
This moment is not about victimhood. It's about strategic, intentional power. Every time a trans person shares their truth, every time a non-binary individual uses their pronouns unapologetically, every time we create art, build community, or love fiercely—we are engaging in profound political action.
Our existence is not a compromise or a negotiation; it is a declaration.
To my genderqueer and trans siblings: your body is a sanctuary. Your identity is a revolution. Your joy is an act of collective healing. Pleasure and freedom are your birthright. No executive order, no rhetoric of erasure, no institutional violence can touch the fundamental truth of who you are and how you feel. We are not asking for permission to exist—we already exist, brilliantly and beautifully.
To my cisgender accomplices and hetero-allies: your kinship lies not in your sorrow for our situation, but in the recognition that our freedom is intrinsically tied to your own. Stand up for us all as if your life depended on it. Focus your contributions to the organizations that are and will be fighting for us as Americans and ensuring that we can access the services we need—like the ACLU, Human Rights Campaign, Transgender Law Center, and The Trevor Project. Practice using our pronouns, especially when we are not in the conversation. If you have a question, ask. If someone in your own family or friend circle defames our community as a whole, a particular subset of us, or any individual simply for who they are, challenge that ignorance and name it on the spot.
From my end, I’m working to maintain the intentional space I’ve curated for myself so I can show up full-strength for my chosen family, local community members, clients and retreat participants. I want to feel whole and healthy, a tender place for others to land when needed.
I’ll close by saying this: Our joy is not just survival—it is sovereignty.
We are the revolution we've been waiting for.
Become a paid subscriber yourself and gift a subscription to someone in your life who would resonate with my work—and you’ll get 20% off both subscriptions. This is how we start a generative, community-focused economy where we all win!
Share this post