I'm A Writer

Who Are You?

I’ve asked myself that question at least a dozen times in my life. As a kid, the answers were limited to a very narrow perception of reality. “Are you a child of God or are you a sinner?” I didn’t feel that I fit neatly into either of those categories — rather, fitting into any category made me feel less than myself. It wasn’t until I was 18 that I came out to myself, and that’s when everything started to unfold. My queer mentor and professor, Cliff Simon, says, “It all started when I came out, and not just because of the gay stuff — it was a waterfall of everything — of me starting to see that life could be what I wanted it to be.”

I love the idea that our childhoods are construction zones. We build versions of ourselves, and if we’re lucky, they are based in authenticity. The person we become is the person that connects to what’s real — real in us and in each other. In my case, I built a version that I thought would be most pleasing to other people. I was terrified somebody would find out that I’m queer. They eventually did, and everything was fine. Some relationships took years to adjust, some new relationships formed, but mostly, I started unpicking the parts of myself that I had built for others and started choosing only what really felt like me. It was my relationship with myself that changed the most — and it changed for the better!

In the past few years, I’ve leaned in. I’ve learned to listen to my voice even when it’s soft and small amongst all the other voices in my head. My voice, what I call Real Me, always leads me to a life of love, joy and peace.

It reminds me of what Dolly Parton says, “Find out who you are and do it on purpose.” That’s exactly what I’ve done. In the past couple of years, I’ve learned something very exciting about myself. I’m a writer. Discovering “writing” has grounded me in both purpose and joy.

Writing as a Calling

Years ago, I heard Sir Ken Robinson give a TED Talk. I fell in love with the way he told stories and the way he effortlessly connected to his listeners. It seemed that Sir Ken had found exactly what it was that he was supposed to be doing. Then, I read his book. The Element is all about finding that sweet spot where your passion meets your natural talent. When you land there, you don’t just feel fulfilled — you thrive, both creatively and professionally (or spiritually and physically). The book really challenges the idea that we should all follow the same conventional paths, instead urging us to nurture our unique potential and shake things up to create a more innovative and connected world.

After reading The Element, I was determined to find this “sweet spot” in my own life. But it didn’t come easily. I was still holding on to so many of the things that I had built for others. I was trying to be something that I thought others wanted me to be, and that just wasn’t working. That said, I am so grateful I got to experience all that I’ve experienced, from helping start some incredible initiatives (TED-Ed, Understood.org, HOTSHOT) to running VideoOut (a national queer nonprofit) to working on TV shows through VOE, the production company I started (Mirror Ball, Orphan Black: Echoes, Fellow Travelers), to consulting for some of the world's biggest companies (Google, P&G, Airbnb, Hulu, Verizon).

But I still didn't feel like I had quite figured out exactly what it is that I'm supposed to be doing.

Then, I learned about this concept called ikigai. It's all about the intersection where your passion, skills, and what the world needs come together with what you can get paid for. It’s the kind of balance that makes life feel rich with purpose, where you wake up excited to do work that feels like it’s in total alignment with who you are. It’s a reminder that fulfillment isn’t just about making a living — it’s about making a life that feels meaningful and deeply connected to what really matters.

You know how when something clicks, it's hard to explain. It just works? Maybe that’s why we describe like that: “it just clicked!” That’s how I feel about writing. It wasn't until I learned about ikigai that writing made sense to me. All this life experience was leading me to my element — to my personal practice of ikigai.

Now, without a doubt, writing is central to who I am. For me, writing just clicked.

What Am I Writing?

Years ago, I started writing short stories for my nieces and nephews. That turned into a larger project — a novel about how a high schooler in saves an imaginary multiverse in crisis. What was the solution? Well, you'll have to wait — but it might just save us all in real life. It's a metaphor for our current reality. The book offers all of us a glimpse into limitless possibilities, and shows us how we can create a world that feels like home for everybody. I can't wait for you to read it!

I'm also working on a nonfiction book about the 6 lessons I've learned over the past 20 years that have helped me evolve from a people-pleasing control addict to a liberated queer authenticity seeker. Over that 20 years, I went from being completely estranged from my family to having a healthy, generative relationship with them. Turns out, shared humanity is the most beautiful thing I can possibly imagine.

Lastly, I'm ghostwriting a memoir for a trailblazer in TV and film. It's such a privilege to help her tell her story. We're becoming great friends, and I'm so inspired by her resilience and creativity. If you’ve seen Beetlejuice, Cast Away, Dances with Wolves, and Fight Club, you've seen her work. Her book is hilarious, so get ready!

The Power of Writing

Writing, for me, is both a personal lifeline and a way to contribute something meaningful to the world. It’s the place where I can fully express myself — my queerness, my creativity, my empathy — and explore what it means to be real and human in a world that often feels disconnected. Whether I’m writing about the nuances of identity or crafting stories that open up whole new worlds, each word is a step toward understanding myself and connecting with others. At least, that’s the power I see in writing.

But it’s not just about me. Writing is how I take part in something bigger — sparking conversations, bridging divides, and hopefully inspiring people to see themselves and the world a little more clearly. I believe that when we share our stories, we create space for others to do the same, and that ripple effect can lead to deeper connections, empathy, and real change.

My Core Values as a Writer:

Inclusivity: I like to imagine everything I write as an entrée at the table of life. There's enough for everyone to have a heaping serving. But it's not just that I'm the chef and the server. My writing is informed and co-created with my community. We all make the meal, serve it, and eat it together. Queers and artists and people of every stripe, religion, race and political affiliation. I'm a liberal, queer, trans, nonbinary human that is not religious, but I want my writing to be like the world — inclusive of everyone and a model for how we can coexist together in love, joy, and peace.
Queerness: My writing is not always about sexuality and gender. To me, queerness is bigger than that — it’s a rejection of societal norms and a radical embrace of limitless possibility. Those are common themes in my writing. Therefore, one might describe it as queer in the broadest sense of the word. My hope is that it’s defined by the same openness and expansiveness found in queerness. My writing is nearly always about exploring what's beyond the things that are expected of us. So, in that way, it’s queer. That said, since I’m queer, everything I do IS queer (including my writing).
Creativity: I always want my writing to be additive. I want to offer infinite worlds and possibilities to my readers. My writing is a portal to explore, dream, and imagine new realities — a roadmap to connect to what is real in ourselves and each other. A way to collectively imagine better for ourselves.
Empathy: I strive to zealously seek understanding and compassion — to make my writing a tool for emotional and spiritual connection. My hope is that everything I write helps to break down barriers and build bridges to shared humanity.
Catalyzation: A story saved my life. When I was first stepping into my authenticity, I heard Cliff Simon share his story. It moved me to action. It showed me that happiness is available to me. That story catalyzed me to live a life that I love and to share stories that help others do the same. At the end of the day, I want my words to catalyze something bigger, to help build a world that feels like home for everyone — no matter who they are.

What Now?

Now that I've tasted this truth — rather, now that I've connected to what's real in me — I can't imagine my life without it. Writing will always be at the center of my life, a pursuit that fuels my soul and helps me contribute to the world. Writing is my legacy. But more than all of that, writing isn’t just something I do — it’s who I am. In the same way that breathing defines me, writing does too. It's the intersection of all the things I love. It's my element. It's my ikigai.

If there's ever anything I can do for you, let me know. I would LOVE to write with you, for your, and around you. Let's do this. Let's change the world one word at a time.

Love You!

Thank you so much for reading. I love you all with the passion that burns with the intensity of 1,000 white hot suns.