Making Space: Queer Identity in a Heteronormative Field

I recently had an interview with a potential client who works in women’s healthcare. As we talked about her business, she mentioned her “partner.” My ears perked up. When she finally said “she,” I excitedly exclaimed, “Oh! I’m gay!”

She seemed slightly confused and replied, “Oh, cool,” before continuing on to talk about her husband. I suddenly realized she was talking about a business partner, not a romantic one.

So embarrassing.

The reason I got so excited is because it’s still pretty rare to meet other queer people in this line of work. Birthwork is still very heteronormative and cisnormative in nature. It’s rare to see “mama” without “dada” right beside it. Phrases like “mama knows best” or “daddy duty” are everywhere from parenting books, pediatrician waiting rooms, Instagram captions, and even birthworkers’ business names. Even when the intention is sweet or lighthearted, the message often leaves queer, trans, and nonbinary parents feeling unseen or excluded.

That’s why I’m especially grateful for spaces like Birthing Advocacy Doula Trainings, where I received my certification training. They challenge these norms and intentionally make room for inclusivity. This matters to me not only as a professional who wants to create safe, welcoming spaces, but also as a queer person who feels a deep sense of care and protection for my community.

Not long ago, I connected with another queer doula. We bonded quickly over our backgrounds and coming-out stories. She has been in birthwork much longer than I have, and I was excited to know that there were other doulas like me. Before my shoulders could fully relax, though, she told me she doesn’t share her identity with clients because she worries it could hurt her business.

That stunned me.

I started to wonder if I should be more careful, too. Should I avoid talking about my partner? Will people choose not to work with me because I’m queer? Sadly, I know the answer is yes in some cases. Some people hold prejudices, and my identity might be something they refuse to accept.

But the more I sat with that idea, the more it became clear that hiding who I am would go against everything I stand for. It wouldn’t just hurt me. It would also be a disservice to the queer clients, parents, doulas, and birthworkers who need to see themselves reflected in this space. We deserve to be here fully, without fear or apology.

Pride is about fully showing up as your true self. It’s about honoring our personal and collective journeys, and continuing to push forward so more of us can feel safe and affirmed in our lives and work. In a time when LGBTQ+ people are being asked to quiet down or disappear, I am choosing to take up space. In doing so, I am honoring those who came before me and led the way in dangerous and uncertain times. I feel the responsibility to carry the baton so that the next generation of queer birthworkers won’t question whether they should hide who they are, but will instead know without hesitation that there is a place for them here.

This June, and every month, I’m standing in my truth. Fully and unapologetically.