The old adage “in like a lion, out like a lamb” doesn’t quite cover how March went for me… “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” might be a little closer to reality, I guess?
I had so much to be proud of and grateful for over the course of the past month, but I had to muddle my way through some decidedly difficult experiences, too.
Here’s a look back at how March went for me when it came to travel, books, mental health, and queer joy.
March in travel
Berlin, Germany
I kicked off the month traveling by train from Amsterdam to Berlin, where I took part in an on-stage Q&A about “emerging destinations and community-based guidance in the queer sector of the travel industry" in the dedicated LGBTQ+ Pavilion at international travel conference ITB Berlin.
It was inspiring to hear such thoughtful questions from folks on tourism boards, hospitality managers, and beyond about how they can work to ensure that their places of business are designed with queer travelers’ comfort and safety in mind, and how they can appropriately communicate those intentional inclusivity efforts to guests from the LGBTQ+ community moving forward as they plan their travels.
It was decidedly less inspiring when I abruptly realized halfway through my train ride back to Amsterdam that I’d left my passport and house keys in the hotel safe when I’d checked out earlier that morning. I frantically called the front desk at the hotel to explain the situation and ask if I could pay for overnight shipping to get the items to my home in the Netherlands, and thankfully, we were able to coordinate that fairly quickly and painlessly via DHL.
This was a great reminder for me that as a neurodivergent traveler, I should be careful not to use all of my “spoons” to navigate unfamiliar environments and mask for on-stage events—I should save a few to keep the executive function part of my brain going when I do things like packing and making my way home with all my essentials in tow. In any situation, you either win or you learn, right?
Edinburgh, Scotland
Two weeks later, my partner and I flew to Scotland for my very first in-person event for my debut book, The LGBTQ+ Travel Guide: Interviews, Itineraries, and Inspiration from Queer Insiders in 50+ Proud Places.
For those interested, here’s a peek behind the scenes of that UK launch event, which took place on Monday, 17 March in Edinburgh. Thanks so much to our gracious hosts at Lighthouse Bookshop (especially owner Mairi, for her thoughtful contributions to the Edinburgh chapter of the book, enthusiastic participation in the Q&A at the event, and her overall amazingness as a person), to the team at Gosh PR for coordinating it all, to August 21 for catering, to Paradise Palms for a delicious afterparty, to my sweet partner Andrew for his endless support in all forms, and to every single person who joined us for this awesome event to ask thoughtful questions and purchase copies to be signed. I am still on cloud nine and remain absolutely giddy with gratitude!
Looking ahead
In April, I’ll embark on the US leg of my book tour, starting with a Q&A and book signing event in Richmond, Virginia first, followed by another one in New York City. Stay tuned for more details, and hope to see some of you there!
I’ll get back to the Netherlands just in time for Koningsdag or “King’s Day,” so I’ll have to remember to have my celebratory orange outfit laid out ahead of time so I’m ready to get right into party mode once I land back on EU soil. I shouldn’t be too exhausted after two and a half weeks on the road in the States to pound a few Heinekens in the name of Dutch royals, right?
March in books
It is possible that this book has… broken me?
I don’t know how else to explain the complete and utter emotional havoc that WE COULD BE RATS by Emily Austin wrought upon me—or why, despite said havoc, I deeply loved this book and would still recommend it to absolutely anyone who grew up in a complicated family dynamic or who’s had (or still has) a tumultuous relationship with a sibling.
Let’s start with a loud and clear trigger warning: This book deals with the subject of suicide, so if that is a sensitive topic for you, tread carefully. And even if it’s not… If you’ve ever struggled with your mental health (or have watched a loved one do so), just know that this will be a difficult read. A rewarding one, in my opinion, but a difficult one nonetheless.
I’ll admit that there were points in this book when untangling the competing childhood narratives between the two sisters felt almost personally painful, like I was holding up a mirror to my own adolescent traumas and insecurities and seeing clearly how it’s possible that my earliest recollections in life could differ so starkly from my brother’s understanding of our shared experiences.
If you’re not interested in self-reflection, in learning what parts you may have played in building out stories about who you are both within your family unit and outside of it, I imagine this will be a challenging read to make it through. But for me, outside of just being painful, it was a poignant and powerful reminder that when it comes to shared experiences, “the truth” is not always either/or but sometimes both/and, and that we aren’t always as alone as we think we are in our struggles, despite how differently we may carry them with us into adulthood.
I finished this book feeling like I do at the end of many a therapy session: Raw and vulnerable with a lot of heavy things to think about, but still grateful to have torn myself open even just a bit so that more love and understanding could find its way in.
And while I’m here, here’s everything else I read this month:
If you don’t already, consider using the Storygraph app to track what you read—it has helped me learn so much about my reading habits (and it’s not owned by Amazon, like Goodreads is).
And if you do already use the Storygraph app: Yay, let’s be reading friends!
March in mental health
Highs: Pub day for my book!!!
Lows: Pretty much everything happening in the US right now!!!
What’s been helping: Following my own advice and actively prioritizing some realistic anti-burnout activities like going for hot girl stomps, lightly disassociating with feel-good TV shows and podcasts, junk journaling, setting and sticking to screen time limits, and taking action when and how I can against fascism in all its forms.
March in queer joy
We already know that there are so many terrifying things happening to tear down LGBTQ+ rights, so let’s focus on good news for the queer community from this month for a second instead:
Minnesota House rejected banning transgender athletes from girls sports!
A federal judge blocked Texas A&M's drag ban, in a First Amendment win!
A Seattle home was transformed into the first-ever shelter for homeless LGBTQ+ veterans!
Pakistan’s transgender community has found hope and dignity at a culinary school!
And last but not least, my very queer book was released into the world! I am so excited for everyone who preordered it to finally hold a physical copy of it in their hands, and I can’t wait to hear what everyone thinks.
How was your March?
Did you read anything you loved? Travel somewhere amazing? Take care of your mental health in a new-to-you way? Find ways to spread queer joy in your community? I’d love to hear how this month went for you!
I had a fantastic March and made it through the big Seattle storm (2-inch hail, tornado forecasted) that didn't happen—I experienced the return of Seattle summer weather for a day or two. I traveled to the Hood Canal, had my first facial and massage in several years at a resort there, read books, created art, planned summer PNW road trips, and dreamed about the Oregon coast. I am back to dance classes and working on my health.