Queer Yoga MOOKAITE
JASPER
Queer Yoga: A Guide to Well-Being Through Inclusive and Accessible Yoga Copyright © 2026 by Mookaite Jasper. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including internet usage, without written permission from Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd., except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner for the purpose of training artificial intelligence technologies or systems.
First Edition
First Printing, 2026
Book design by Rebecca Zins
Cover design by Shannon McKuhen
Interior yoga pose illustrations created by Llewellyn Art Department, based on original art by Jilly Shipway
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ISBN: 9780738781488
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For M, R, and H
May you grow up in a world where you’re free to be your authentic selves
Disclaimer
This book aims to provide options for yoga poses that can be adapted by individuals according to their own needs, and as such, it relies on the reader to make decisions about what is safe and comfortable for their own wellbeing. This book cannot replace face-to-face adjustments and advice from a teacher and is not designed to be a substitute for in-person classes. Rather, the suggestions in this book might complement an in-person practice where a teacher can assist with suitable and safe modifications.
Yoga is a complex system of practices that have been simplified in this book and require a qualified teacher for further study. Part of yoga, the asanas, are a physical practice and therefore carry a risk of injury if done improperly. Practices such as meditation must also be approached with caution, particularly by anyone with a mental health condition. This book is not a substitute for professional advice such as talk therapy, physiotherapy, medication for physical or mental health conditions, or any other appropriate intervention.
The author and publisher advise readers to take full responsibility for their own safety and wellbeing, including but not limited to honouring their body and their own limits; pausing or stopping entirely if any practice does not feel suitable; ensuring the environment around their practice area is safe and clear of obstructions; seeking professional medical advice before starting yoga if they have a pre-existing medical condition, are pregnant, might be pregnant, or have recently given birth; and promptly seeking professional medical advice in the event of any concerns during their yoga practice. The author and publisher assume no liability for any injuries resulting from the practices in this book and urge the reader to ensure their practice is always safe.
Contents
Foreword by
Jessamyn Stanley xxiii
Preface xxv
Introduction 1
1/January 11
I Start Over: Celebrating Fresh Starts and Authentic Living
Queer Musings: How Yoga Can Help Us Start Over 12
Queer Yoga: Downward-Facing Dog, Child’s Pose, Mountain Pose, Forward Fold, Warrior II 13
Putting It All Together: Bringing Your Queer Authenticity to Yoga 22
Tip: Finish Your Yoga Session with Savasana 26
Honouring the Roots of Yoga: The Eight-Limbed Path and Ahimsa 27
Queer Joy: Waterfall Visualisation 29
Ritual: Cleanse the Five Senses 31
January Journaling Prompts: Reflections on Starting Over 34
2/February 37
I Am Held: Finding Community and Holding Space for Yourself
Queer Musings: How Queer Community Holds Us 38
Queer Yoga: Cat-Cow, Tree Pose, Sway, Belly Twist 38
Putting It All Together: Be Open to Every Emotion 47
Tip: Experiment with Props 51
Honouring the Roots of Yoga: Satya and Asteya, the Second and Third Yamas 52
Queer Joy: Rainbow Heart Visualisation 54
Ritual: Letter Writing 55
February’s Journaling Prompts: Reflections on Feeling Held 58
3/March 61
I Take Up Space: Making Space for Your Queer Self and Others to Blossom
Queer Musings: How We Make Space for Each Other 62
Queer Yoga: Flamenco Arms, Side Stretching, Squat 63
Putting It All Together: Choose Your Breath Pattern 70
Tip: Move Your Spine in All Directions 74
Honouring the Roots of Yoga: Brahmacharya and Aparigraha 75
Queer Joy: Alternate Nostril Breathing with Blossoming Flower Visualisation 77
Ritual: Use Images to Be Here and Queer 80
March Journaling Prompts: Reflections on Taking Up Space 82
4/April 85
I Use My Voice: Listening to Yourself and Others and Making Your Voice Heard
Queer Musings: How to Listen and Be Heard 86
Queer Yoga: Chin Rolls, Cobra Pose, Low Lunge 87
Putting It All Together: Listen to Your Body 94
Tip: Work with Your Soft Edge 98
Honouring the Roots of Yoga: Saucha, the First Niyama 99
Queer Joy: Throat Chakra Visualisation 101
Ritual: Chant, Sing, or Make Your Own Music 103
April Journaling Prompts: Reflections on Being Heard 106
5/May 109
I Choose Hope: Living with Courage and Campaigning for LGBTQIA+ Rights
Queer Musings: How to Be an LGBTQIA+ Activist 110
Queer Yoga: Seaweed, Bridge Pose, Cactus Arms 111
Putting It All Together: Using Counterposes 118
Tip: Embrace the Wobble 122
Honouring the Roots of Yoga: Santosha and Tapas 123
Queer Joy: Loving-Kindness Meditation 125
Ritual: Channel Harvey Milk 127
May Journaling Prompts: Reflections on Choosing Hope 130
6/June 133
I Shine Bright: Leaning into Queer Joy, Creativity, and Playfulness
Queer Musings: How We Sparkle in Pride Month 134
Queer Yoga: Side Plank, Warrior I, Warrior III 136
Putting It All Together: Dedicate Your Practice to Queer Joy 142
Tip: Choose an Intention at the Start of Your Practice 146
Honouring the Roots of Yoga: Svadhyaya and Ishvara Pranidhana, the Fourth and Final Niyamas 147
Queer Joy: Sacral Chakra Meditation 149
Ritual: Be Inspired by LGBTQIA+ Organisations 151
June Journaling Prompts: Reflections on Shining Bright 154
7/July 157
I Create My Own Freedom: Thinking Flexibly and Moving Beyond the Binary
Queer Musings: How Queer Thinking Can Create Flexibility 158
Queer Yoga: Starfish, Plank, Triangle 159
Putting It All Together: Move Beyond the Binary 165
Tip: Express Your Queer Identity Through Movement 170
Honouring the Roots of Yoga: Asana, the Third Limb of Yoga 171
Queer Joy: Blue Skies Visualisation 172
Ritual: Create a Drag Mood Board 174
July Journaling Prompts: Reflections on Finding Freedom 176
8/August 179
I Am Grounded: Connecting to Your Roots and Finding Pockets of Peace
Queer Musings: How to Pause and Find Pockets of Peace 180
Queer Yoga: Ankle Rotations, Wide-Legged Forward Fold, Hand-to-Knee Balance 181
Putting It All Together: Connect to the Root Chakra 187
Tip: Honour the Desire for Rest 192
Honouring the Roots of Yoga: Pranayama, the Fourth Limb of Yoga 193
Queer Joy: Tree Roots Visualisation 195
Ritual: Find a Sacred Space in Nature 197
August Journaling Prompts: Reflections on Feeling Grounded 198
9/September 201
I Am Seen: Valuing Your Queer Self and Turning Within
Queer Musings: How to Value Your Self-Worth 202
Queer Yoga: Thread the Needle, Forward Fold with Interlaced Hands, Cow Face Arms 203
Putting It All Together: Let Go of Control 209
Tip: Make Space in the Body and Mind 213
Honouring the Roots of Yoga: Pratyahara, the Fifth Limb of Yoga 213
Queer Joy: Third Eye Meditation 215
Ritual: Plant Bulbs of Intention 218
September Journaling Prompts: Reflections on Being Seen 220
10/October 223
I Belong: Letting People In and Arriving in the Present Moment
Queer Musings: How We Let People In 224
Queer Yoga: Opposite Arm and Leg Balance, Eagle Pose, Hip Stretch 225
Putting It All Together: Belong in Every Breath 231
Tip: Come Home to Yourself with a Daily Practice 235
Honouring the Roots of Yoga: Dharana, the Sixth Limb of Yoga 235
Queer Joy: Network of Queer Love Meditation 238
Ritual: Create Your Own Queer Journey Timeline 239
October Journaling Prompts: Reflections on Belonging 242
11/November 245
I Am Strong: Channelling Queer Power and Strength in Vulnerability
Queer Musings: How to Channel Queer Power 246
Queer Yoga: Boat Pose, Side Angle Pose, Chair Pose 247
Putting It All Together: Find Strength in Vulnerability 253
Tip: Protect Vulnerable Joints 257
Honouring the Roots of Yoga: Dhyana, the Seventh Limb of Yoga 258
Queer Joy: Candle Meditation 260
Ritual: Connect to Queer Stories 262
November Journaling Prompts: Reflections on Being Strong 264
12/December 267
I Heal: Connecting to LGBTQIA+ History and Paying Tribute
Queer Musings: How We Connect to LGBTQIA+ History 268
Queer Yoga: Restorative Fish, Restorative Rotation, Restorative Butterfly 269
Putting It All Together: Trust Your Inner Teacher 274
Tip: Creating Your Own Sequences 279
Honouring the Roots of Yoga: Samadhi, the Final Limb of the Eight-Limbed Path 280
Queer Joy: Heart Chakra Visualisation 281
Ritual: Paying Tribute on World AIDS Day 283
December Journaling Prompts: Reflections on Healing 286
Acknowledgements 289
Recommended Reading List 291
Appendix A: List of Poses 293
Appendix B: List of Sequences 305
Foreword
Yoga has always been queer. Not because of rainbow flags or Pride parades, but because yoga is about accepting every part of who you are: the contradictions, the intersections, and the places that don’t fit neatly into categories. What could be more queer than that?
And yet, for too long queer people have been pushed to the margins of yoga spaces. Misgendered in classes. Erased by language. Made to feel like outsiders in a practice that should be our home. For many of us, myself included, yoga served as both a refuge and a rejection. As a fat Black queer woman, I’ve spent my whole life carving out space in places not built for me. Yoga was no different, but it was also where I eventually learned to find refuge within myself.
That’s why Queer Yoga feels so urgent and so necessary.
Mookaite Jasper has written the first yoga book I know of that treats queer identity not as an afterthought but as the very framework for practice. Each chapter moves with the rhythm of the seasons. It blends themes of rebirth, belonging, healing, and luminance with movement, meditation, ritual, and reflection. There are postural options for both mat and chair yoga, as well as prompts that meet you wherever you are on both your queer journey and your yoga journey. Nothing here is one-size-fits-all, and everything serves as an invitation.
That’s what queerness teaches us: There’s no single way to be whole. Wholeness is always intersectional. Coming out as a lesbian in high school was both terrifying and liberating; my whole body held terror and relief in equal measures at the exact same time. But that moment opened a whole new world of self-acceptance. It showed me that queerness is not just about accepting who you love: It’s about accepting the many layers of who you are. Yoga asks the same of us—to yoke together every contradiction and every facet of ourselves until we remember that we have always been whole.
This book is the permission slip I wish I’d had when I first started practising yoga. It tells queer people: You belong. It tells teachers and studio owners: Stop “othering” your students and start honoring your own complexity. It tells every reader, queer or not, that we are not meant to be one-dimensional. Our uniqueness is the gift we bring to the world.
To be queer is to carry a superpower. We are the human mirrors of nature itself: Every single one of us is as unique and necessary as each flower, snowflake, and blade of grass. Kite has given us a resource that will last for generations—a reminder that our queerness is not a limitation but a light.
May this book be your sanctuary and your spark. May it remind you that you are special, sacred, and here on purpose. And may it give you the tools to shine as brightly as the rainbowcolored diamond you already are.
—Jessamyn Stanley
Preface
Beautiful rainbows can grow from tiny acorns. That’s what queer yoga has taught me.
When I first set up a queer yoga group in 2021 in a small seaside town in the northeast of England, there were just a couple of people who came along. Even though we couldn’t cover the full cost of the room hire between us, the sense of community was magical. The group said how different it felt to be surrounded by other LGBTQIA+ people as they came into their bodies. Luckily, the studio owner was an ally who gave us the space at a discounted rate, so we kept going and gradually the word spread.
At that time, I was struggling to attend group yoga classes myself as I was figuring out my own gender identity. Yoga in the West is often a physical practice, and that can be tricky if the body is already a site of conflict. For many trans and/or non-binary people, yoga classes often involve a misunderstanding of “feminine energy” as well as unnecessarily gendered language, like referring to a class as “ladies” or phrasing instructions such as “put your block under your bra strap.”
There’s also the risk of being misgendered or having to use gendered bathrooms and changing rooms. Add trauma into the mix, and maybe neurodivergence, and it’s easy to see why someone who is trans and/or non-binary might not feel comfortable in a regular group yoga class. I started teaching queer yoga because I wanted to create the kind of space I wish I’d had for my own practice.
Creating a yoga space specifically for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, asexual, plus (LGBTQIA+) people meant this community could show up as their authentic selves and feel seen within that space. We shared our pronouns, chatted about the challenges we were facing as LGBTQIA+ people, and used our queer experiences as a springboard for exploring yoga themes through an LGBTQIA+ lens.
The content of this book draws on those queer yoga sessions I taught across the north of England, from Leeds up to Newcastle, and the journey we went on together as a community
as we grew our understanding of what queer yoga was and could be. From those little classes in a seaside town, the community grew to become a social enterprise called Queer Yoga North, offering free yoga, tai chi, and strength training classes for LGBTQIA+ people.
Queer Yoga North was a Community Interest Company, or CIC, run by a board of directors and supported by national funding bodies. It was a wild journey and hugely affirming to know that big public bodies recognised the need for queer yoga sessions. I’m grateful to every single person who helped build the organisation because it truly took an epic amount of queer audacity!
In the end, the administrative burden of running a constituted group took its toll. The social enterprise offered free wellbeing sessions, but they did come at a cost—at the cost of the wellbeing of the LGBTQIA+ people involved in running it. This book was driven by a desire to continue reaching LGBTQIA+ people and keep passing on the tools of yoga through a queer lens.
It’s great to have our own queer yoga sessions, but we also need regular yoga classes to be more inclusive of LGBTQIA+ people. There aren’t enough LGBTQIA+ yoga teachers, for starters. Ideally, everyone should be able to enter any yoga class and feel included. I wanted to raise awareness of the issues faced by trans and/or non-binary people, so I submitted an article to Spectrum, the magazine of the British Wheel of Yoga, which represents yoga teachers in the UK. I was surprised when the editor agreed to publish the full piece, including a detailed list of suggestions about how to make trans and/or non-binary people feel more comfortable in a yoga class.
After the article was published, I was even more surprised by the reaction from cishet (cisgender and heterosexual) yoga teachers who contacted me to say they’d read the piece and found it helpful. There was hope. There were yoga teachers reaching out who genuinely wanted to make their classes more inclusive, but they needed more understanding of the issues.
One of the people who got in touch about the article was Jilly Shipway, author of Yoga Through the Year: A Seasonal Approach to Your Practice. I was already a huge fan of her books, and it made my queer heart sing to know she was also an ally! The conversations generated by the Spectrum article got me thinking that maybe a book about queer yoga could help allies better understand our community as well as directly help LGBTQIA+ people.
I signed up for Jilly’s online course about becoming a yoga writer. She was endlessly supportive, and by the time I’d finished the course, I’d written the first chapter of this book. It was Jilly, in a true act of allyship, who encouraged me to send a proposal to her own publishers, Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.—and here you have it. Thank you, Jilly, and thank you to
everyone at Llewellyn! This book would not exist without the support of allies, and I hope they find themselves represented in this book in some form, even though I’m more directly speaking to LGBTQIA+ people. Whether you identify as queer, LGBT+, or straight, I hope you can find a new perspective on your yoga practice here.
In terms of representation, it’s important to recognise that not everyone connects with the word “queer.” It was used as a slur against LGBT+ people for a long time and sometimes still is. It has now been reclaimed and is used in phrases such as “queer theory,” “queering the map,” or names such as “Queer Britain,” which is a museum in London. Nonetheless, the harm that has been caused by the word “queer” means some people might never reclaim it, and of course that is understandable. Feel free to replace the word “queer” in this book with words that work better for you, even crossing it out if that feels right. Please know that you are welcome here with whatever language you prefer to use.
My aim is that this book might also speak to the disabled community, regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity. Although our queer yoga sessions were exclusively for LGBTQIA+ people, I realised that our approach was attracting interest from cishet disabled yogis when our social enterprise realised a series of YouTube videos.
The series, called 30 Days of Hope, was specifically aimed at trans and non-binary people, but lots of people got involved, including various allies. There were people who connected to the videos because they aimed to be accessible, with chair options offered in every sequence. Yoga classes in the West often focus on the physical elements of yoga and tend to assume that everyone is practising on a mat. There’s also often the assumption that if someone is practising yoga on a chair, they’ll be in a designated chair yoga class. It’s rare at the moment to find yoga classes that integrate mat and chair options.
Chair yoga classes might be a good option for some people, but often the demographic tends to be older and doesn’t always feel like the right fit for someone younger, especially if they’re queer-presenting and worry they might not be accepted. Also, some people’s disability and/or chronic condition might mean that the mat options are accessible one week, but the next week they might need to use a chair. Perhaps they might use the mat for some poses and a chair for other poses within the same class. In these cases, they might feel they neither belong in a chair yoga class nor a regular class, where only the mat is used.
The queer yoga community has taught me that there is so much merit in integrating poses on mats and chairs within the same classes. Not only is it possible to demonstrate and teach chair and mat versions of poses together, but doing so also offers fresh insights on familiar poses for everyone in the room. Even if someone usually uses the mat, I’ll sometimes invite everyone to try certain poses on the chair first so they can access the shape in a new way. This
challenges us all to avoid falling into patterns and look beyond the status quo—which, after all, is what queerness is all about.
So, if you’re here for the accessible yoga, even though you don’t identify as part of the LGBTQIA+ community, you’re very much welcome. This book aims to offer a new perspective for anyone, regardless of sexuality and gender identity. As a non-disabled person myself, my understanding of accessible yoga has been massively informed by disabled queer folx who have generously helped me understand their experiences in queer yoga sessions. Thank you to everyone who has shaped my understanding, and please keep the conversations coming so we can continue to work towards a more inclusive queer yoga community.
This is the book I wish I’d had when I started practising yoga. There’s a list of recommendations at the back, with brilliant books that helped me along the way, but I could never find a book for LGBTQIA+ people that was just about yoga. It’s been my personal experience as a student and teacher of queer yoga that when we allow space for people to turn up as their whole selves, there is more space to go beyond the self. When people are forced to contort themselves to fit into an environment that isn’t inclusive, what hope is there of expanding the breath, relaxing into the present, letting go, and accessing spiritual realms beyond the body? Inclusive spaces are yogic spaces. Whatever you’re bringing to your practice, I hope you find a sense of belonging between these pages and ultimately in your own body.
Introduction
Whatever has drawn you to queer yoga today, welcome! You’re welcome exactly as you are. It doesn’t matter how you identify in terms of sexuality or gender identity. You could be out and proud, quietly questioning, single, in a relationship, bisexual in a heterosexual-presenting relationship, polyamorous, asexual, aromantic, or identify any other way that fits under the rainbow umbrella of LGBTQIA+ identities. Maybe you’d love to be more out and proud but it’s not safe for you right now. Let this book be your little sanctuary of queerness. Maybe you’re cishet and feel drawn to queer yoga as an ally. We’re glad you’re here too. This is a book for anyone who is curious about getting to know themselves.
When I’m teaching queer yoga classes in person, we start with an opening circle to give everyone the chance to offer their name and, if they want, pronouns; then there’s an invitation to answer an optional warmer question such as What’s bringing you queer joy today? My name is Mookaite, but most people call me Kite, and my pronouns are they/them. I’m feeling queer joy through the hope and potential of writing these words and knowing they will connect me to you and create a network of queer energy across the globe. Maybe you’re not feeling so much queer joy right now. That’s okay; you’re welcome exactly as you are in this moment. Maybe reading this book is your dose of queer joy for the day. Fabulous!
Hopefully you’re getting a flavour already of the interactive nature of this book. Everything in here is designed to be adapted in whatever way suits you best. Queering up yoga is about making it your own. The instructions for poses are not about creating yoga robots! I’ve included guidance for poses with safety in mind (although safety is ultimately your own responsibility), and every pose is described seated and standing. But there are countless variations that we could each play around with when we try a pose, perhaps using props like cushions or holding on to a wall or maybe trying the pose lying down. It all depends on what you’re bringing to your practice on any given day, which is why it pays to check in first to see what’s there.
For some of us in the LGBTQIA+ community, we might be bringing a lot to our yoga practice—that’s certainly been my case. Whether it’s gender dysphoria, trauma, neurodivergence, a combination, or other factors, it can require courage to turn inwards as a queer person. That’s why the practices in this book offer various options so you can make wise choices to treat yourself with extra-gentle loving-kindness. There’s no hierarchy of poses. When you make your yoga accessible for yourself, that’s when you’re practising queer yoga. Sometimes that’s not easy because it’s counter-cultural to go slow, be kind to ourselves, and honour our boundaries. It can also be hard to sit with the more challenging feelings that might bubble to the surface when we slow down. What’s difficult and easy is completely subjective with yoga. For some of us, low, still, and quiet practices can be much harder compared to a dynamic, fast, physical session.
What’s probably true for most of us is that we struggle to get enough rest, whatever that means to you. Rest is radical these days. There are lots of definitions of the word queer, but for me it’s about going against the status quo. Let your queer yoga practice be counter-cultural in its restfulness. What would it take for your practice to truly nourish you? Can you carve out your own style of yoga practice as you become familiar with what serves you best?
Yoga is a big umbrella term, and there are lots of different styles of yoga. When I completed my 200-hour yoga teacher training course in York in the UK, we weren’t taught one specific style but instead were encouraged to find our own path. I loved the slower restorative poses and discovered the joy of long holds when I had the chance to do my teacher training course in yin yoga. But it was through chair-based practices that I started to find a sense of belonging in the world of yoga.
I studied accessible yoga with the Accessible Yoga School run by Jivana Heyman, as well as undertaking a wheelchair yoga course with Rodrigo Souza. Then I completed training with the British Wheel of Yoga called Gentle Years, which is about chair yoga for older adults, including people in care homes and people with dementia. Although I’m non-disabled, I feel much more at home in yoga classes where accessibility is being considered. Even if you think you don’t need a chair for your yoga practice, I’d encourage you to try the poses both standing and seated to see how they feel different. After all, queer yoga is about new perspectives, and you might be surprised where your own yoga journey takes you.
Dip in and out of this book without feeling pressure to complete any specific section. If there’s one practice you tried and didn’t enjoy, just move on and try something else. If there’s something that really spoke to you, feel free to repeat it as much as you like. Although the chapters follow the calendar year, choose the practices that call to you in whatever order all year round. Find your own flow through this book.
Personally, it’s taken a long time to give myself permission to go against the flow. It’s human to want to belong. For me, that meant denying my queer identity until I was in my thirties. I just didn’t have the language to make sense of who I am. Since this book invites you to share so much of your own unique journey, perhaps it’s only fair that I share some of my own journey too. If anything in my story is triggering for you, please take time to tend to your needs before coming back or skip to a different section. But in the spirit of being vulnerable and open, here’s how I went so deep into the closet that I came out the other side teaching queer yoga.
I identify as queer and non-binary. I was thirty when I first tentatively used the word bisexual to describe myself. I’d known deep down that I wasn’t straight since I was eighteen. At that time I identified as a woman because I was assigned female at birth (AFAB) and had no idea about gender diversity. I slept with a woman during my first term at university and fell in love with her, but I refused to embrace my sexuality. I continued sleeping with her in secret on and off for years, pretending to just be friends. I denied my feelings, even to myself.
I was brought up in a Christian family, and this religious upbringing left me plagued by voices in my head that told me I couldn’t be in love with my friend because she was a woman. I felt intense shame, so I pushed down my feelings and tried harder to be straight. Perhaps that woman was facing the same struggle because she didn’t talk about her feelings either. In the end, our mutual silence killed the friendship. What could have been a beautiful love story never really had the chance to blossom, and to my mind that’s largely due to some important historical context.
The LGBTQIA+ community carries a lot of collective trauma. We lost a whole generation during the HIV/AIDS crisis who should have grown up to be our elders now, as well as being leaders in society helping run our institutions, make decisions, and be role models for younger queer people. Then in the UK, from 1988, we had Section 28. This was a law preventing the “promotion of homosexuality” in schools. It meant that teachers couldn’t discuss LGBTQIA+ lives. If the teachers were part of the community themselves, it was risky to mention their private lives at school in case they were perceived to be promoting homosexuality. Essentially, our community was made invisible.
Section 28 was only lifted in England in 2003, which was the year after I started university, so all my schooling took place at a time when LGBTQIA+ people were literally erased from the school sphere. I grew up in a rural area, Shropshire, on the border between England and Wales, so I had no LGBTQIA+ role models and limited access to the internet at that time. I didn’t have the vocabulary to deal with my first queer experience of sleeping with that friend in my first term at university.
One night, I called the university helpline because I was so desperate to speak to someone about my feelings. But as soon as someone answered, I panicked and hung up. The helpline was run by students. What if one of them recognised my voice? I never rang back. I was literally choking on my own internalised homophobia. Instead, I resolved to work harder at being straight and tried to push down my romantic feelings towards my friend.
Of course, it didn’t work! In a bid to “fake it till you make it,” desperate to be straight, I got married to a man. We moved to Dubai because of his job, and I hated our life there. I didn’t get any less gay in Dubai, and I was no less in love with the woman from university. I asked my husband for a divorce, and he agreed. The marriage lasted less than five years.
Desperately unhappy and with a drinking problem, I left Dubai and followed a new boyfriend to start afresh in Thailand. He was loving and kind, but ultimately I still didn’t know who I was, and I wasn’t willing to own my queerness yet. When I got to Thailand, I discovered yoga, and that’s when things started to shift. Yoga helped me heal from all the damaging messages I’d received through church, school, society, and the damage I’d done to myself. I started coming out as bisexual, and to his credit, my boyfriend, who was cishet, understood my need to tentatively start dating women.
Those Tinder dates were my first steps towards being more out and proud, but it still took another seven years until I came out as non-binary. I met someone non-binary when I was 37 and I knew straightaway that I was the same. Until that point, I had limited knowledge about the trans community. I was reluctant to start over again and claim the word non-binary for myself because I’d already been through so many fresh starts by that point. It was only a matter of time, though, before I found the courage to own my gender identity and decided to change my name and pronouns.
Coming out as non-binary felt like freedom, but in some ways it felt like just arriving at the starting line, as if I’m only now getting to know myself as I enter my forties. Thanks to the love and support of my girlfriend, I have newfound joy in my trans identity. It’s a beautiful gift she’s offered me, the gift of being seen and valued as I am—as a trans person. I feel like the luckiest person on earth to have found love with a gorgeous human who affirms my gender every single day. It took a long time to get here, and it’s by no means the end of that journey.
For me, queerness is an ongoing lifelong exploration of understanding myself and peeling away the layers of hurt handed to our community over the years. Maybe your queer identity feels very fixed. We’re all coming from different perspectives, so I can only offer my own experiences in the hope they make you think or feel something that might then shed light on your own journey. My experiences are inevitably impacted by my privileges as a non-disabled middle-class White person born and living in the UK. I owe a great deal to others in the com-
munity with different lived experiences who have helped inform my understanding of queer yoga.
Now you know a little bit about my own queer journey. Perhaps you can see how these experiences have shaped the themes running through this book, such as starting over, healing, being seen, and belonging. I’ve drawn on my own queer journey in each chapter, particularly in the Queer Musings and the sections that explore yoga philosophy. The LGBTQIA+ community is a wonderfully vast and varied group of people. I can’t speak for anyone except myself, so I’ve leaned into the personal rather than shied away from it. Hopefully, my sharing will facilitate reflections of your own, either by how different your experiences have been or how similar or maybe a mix.
The themes of each chapter are also influenced by what’s happening in nature in the UK around that month in the calendar. I love connecting to the seasons, and the invitation is to see LGBTQIA+ themes through the lens of the wheel of the year. For example, at the peak of June’s light around the summer solstice, nature is abundant. In the same way that the flowers and plants look lush and fabulous, so too can we shine bright at Pride. That’s why the June theme is about shining bright. Perhaps you live in a country without these kinds of seasons or maybe you’re in the southern hemisphere. As with everything in the book, adapt for your context.
Setting Up in Your Own Space
Whether you’re sharing a flat or house, living on your own, or maybe away on holiday right now, I’m guessing you’re probably using this book indoors. You could experiment with outdoor yoga, which can be lovely in the right conditions. If you’re venturing outside, consider the wind, heat, cold, bugs, light, uneven ground, noise, and safety. Be mindful that yoga can sometimes open your heart in a way that might feel vulnerable at times, and doing yoga outdoors can be tricky unless it’s a very private place. Assuming that most people are practising at home, here are some tips for setting up a regular practice in your own space.
1. Create a Safe Space
Make sure you have enough room to stretch your arms and legs out without banging into furniture or walls. Move anything that could get broken or hurt you. Look out for electrical sockets and hot pipes, heaters, or radiators. Position yourself so you will avoid these obstructions. Also be mindful of any doors that could open on you as you’re practising yoga. You want to feel safe as well as be safe. Consider the energy of your environment and make any changes necessary to help you feel as secure as possible so you can turn inwards without worrying about external factors.
2. Gather Your Props
The sequences in this book invite you to experiment with lots of props, but you can make many of them yourself—you don’t need to buy any fancy kit. Have a chair and a mat handy. Place your chair on your mat if it feels slippery on the floor surface. Gather cushions, blankets, blocks, or stacks of books if you don’t have yoga blocks. It’s a lovely luxury to have a yoga bolster, but if you don’t, you can roll up a pillow and secure it with a dressing gown tie or scarf. Get creative and add any other props to your stash that you like. You might also like to have a timer handy for meditation, breathwork, or for postures that are held on the left and right sides to make sure you can replicate the same amount of time and be symmetrical. There’s more information around this topic in chapter 2’s tip section about experimenting with props.
3. Create a Sacred Environment
Even if you’re practising in a small space, you can still make it sacred by ensuring the area is as clean and uncluttered as possible. Add a touch of ceremony with some scent and consider making a little altar where you can display your nature finds, like pine cones or shells from the beach. You might add crystals or some artwork of your own—anything that creates a sense of intention. Try to choose a space for your practice that is as quiet as possible, although feel free to use music if that’s what you like. Also think about the temperature. Are you warm enough? The body cools down quickly in the more restful poses. Consider the lighting in your space as well.
4. Commit to a Daily Routine
As with most things, a little and often is best. The poses in this book are designed for you to dip in and out rather than expecting you to complete a full sequence each time you open the book. Building the habit is more important than getting hung up on what to do. If you don’t feel like moving at all today, then don’t. But still make time to be alone and quiet in your sacred space, to reconnect with yourself through meditation or any other practice that takes you inside. Committing to a daily routine doesn’t have to be about committing to movement. It’s about showing up for yourself, whatever that looks like for you. Be protective of this space and time you have carved out for yourself, even if it’s just five or ten minutes a day.
5. Wear What You Want
One of the great joys of developing a home practice is that you can do yoga in your pyjamas and then jump straight into bed. It can be lovely and snuggly to do restorative poses in bed to wind down before lights out. If you’re not wearing pjs for your yoga practice, then just choose anything comfy that allows you to move. Perhaps what you’re wearing right now is fine for
some movement-based practice, and you don’t need to change at all. Make sure you’re warm enough and have layers to hand in case you start to cool down too much in the relaxation phases. You might also want socks, although be mindful to take them off in poses on the mat where your feet might slip when you’re in socks. We’re aiming for a gentle, soft vibe rather than the kind of outfit you’d wear to a gym or exercise class.
One of the joys of developing a home practice, compared to attending group classes, is that you can focus on how the poses feel in your own body rather than comparing yourself to someone else like a teacher or other students. However, it can sometimes be useful to see a version of a pose being demonstrated, and to that end, I have recorded myself doing all the mat and chair sequences in this book. You can access these videos for free via the audiovisual section of my website. Please remember, though, that these are provided as a guide and are not prescriptive—we are all in different bodies so the poses will look different on each of us.
How to Use This Book
Finally, here are some suggestions on how you might like to use the practices offered throughout this book. There are eight sections within each chapter, as follows:
Queer Musings
These mini essays introduce the theme of the chapter. They’re often based on personal stories or experiences from teaching queer yoga. Enjoy these sections with a cup of tea or whatever makes you feel cosy! It’s an invitation to pause and consider LGBTQIA+ issues and how they might relate to your own experiences. If you enjoy journaling, use the essay to inspire your own musings.
Queer Yoga
This is all about the physical component of yoga, called asana. Each chapter contains three pairs of poses. Some chapters contain poses that are new, as in they have not been included elsewhere in the book. But some key poses are repeated in multiple chapters, in which case the chapter number is given so you can review the original instructions.
Each pose is described twice: on the mat and on the chair. There are a few poses, however, that can be done the same way on a chair or on a mat, in which case there is only one set of instructions.
There are also three sets of instructions per chapter to flow between each pair of poses. In the flow, the invitation is to connect the movements to the theme of the chapter, either energetically or through embodying the theme in the shape.
Each mini flow, or mini sequence, can be practiced for as long or as little as you like before moving on to the next one. Follow the rhythm of your own breath and honour any messages from your body about when to move on. Choose whichever option feels right for you or adapt it to suit your body; alternatively, just skip it if it doesn’t feel good. Practice the movements separately, focusing on form to ensure your body is comfortable with these shapes before you put them together in a more fluid way. We’re aiming for a spirit of curiosity and playfulness.
Putting It All Together
Here is the chance to take those individual poses and join them up in one fluid sequence. The section begins with a suggested focus point to help elevate your queer yoga practice. Remember that advanced yoga isn’t about more complex poses or touching your toes. Elevating your practice is about finding ways to turn in and be present. Each sequence has ten steps. Sometimes they incorporate poses from previous chapters. Adapt in your own way. They all finish with Savasana, the resting pose.
Tip
This little section goes into more detail about one specific area of yoga. It might shine a light on a technique or variation or explain why we do certain things in our yoga practice.
Honouring the Roots of Yoga
Another chance for getting cosy with a cup of tea! In Queer Musings, the essay draws on LGBTQIA+ issues to help lead us into yoga. In this section, the essay examines yoga philosophy through a queer lens to make the esoteric more personal. Be open to what bubbles up here, and have your journal handy if you want to make notes.
Queer Joy
This is a celebration of queerness through meditations and visualisations. These sections invite you to connect with your true queer self, with the option to use affirmations. You can access audio versions via my website or record your own version so you can get comfy and relax. Honour your own mental health and emotional needs by checking through the script first before you listen to the audio version. They’re designed to be joyful, but we’re all different, and visualisations can be tricky for some of us.
Ritual
Ceremony and ritual can bring about transformation through our energy and presence. You’re invited to connect with the theme of the chapter by completing a ritual using things from around your home. You don’t need anything fancy, and there are different options suggested. Get creative! Whatever you do, close each chapter in a mindful and intentional way.
Journaling Prompts
This is an invitation for self-enquiry, with prompts around the themes of the chapter. There might be open-ended questions, sentence stems for you to complete, hypothetical questions, and others. The questions always finish with a chance to reflect on what you’ve learned during the chapter and space for gratitude to yourself. You might write on the page, in your own notebook, or just answer in your mind. Skip any questions that don’t work for you, reword prompts, or add your own.
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If you’ve only come away with one message from this introduction, hopefully it’s the invitation to make your practice your own. Let this book be a springboard for your own queer yoga adventure of curiosity and playfulness. I’d love to hear how you’re getting on. Share your journey with our queer yoga network on social media and contact me via my website.
Now it’s time to dive in and get practising!
chapter 1 January
Affirmation: I Start Over.
LGBTQIA+ Calendar: 27th January is Holocaust Memorial Day (global).
Queer Yoga Themes: New beginnings, transformation, and renewal.
Queer It Up: The January theme of starting over might apply at various points in your year: finding a new queer community, breaking free from relationships that no longer serve you, presenting in a new way.
Queer Musings: How Yoga Can Help Us Start Over
Queer folx are the masters of starting over. Some of us have been forced to start over, perhaps excluded by family or even fleeing countries where it is not safe to be LGBTQIA+. Some of us have reinvented ourselves multiple times over, or maybe we feel that queerness is a lifelong journey of self-discovery. What I know for sure is that I have learned a great deal about starting over from my own queer journey and from the LGBTQIA+ community around me.
Leaving my husband was the first step towards reclaiming my queerness and reconnecting with my true self. I remember walking down the corridor of our tiled apartment in Dubai with a bag of clothes over my shoulder, knowing that I was leaving for good. I threw up because I was so stressed. My husband held my hair and asked if I was safe to drive, still so kind and caring even though I’d just announced I wanted a divorce. I was terrified. He was a good guy and materialistically, I was very lucky. Starting over did not feel thrilling. It felt like blowing everything up simply because of a sense of disconnect that I couldn’t really articulate. I just knew there was a deep void inside me, so I jumped ship and packed my bags. It was a freedom so gigantic that it seemed like I was free-falling.
I was a teacher of English at the time, so I was lucky to be able to travel. I got a job in a school in Chiang Mai, in northern Thailand. When I turned up in Chiang Mai, everyone seemed to be doing yoga. I’d never tried it before, and it looked like a good way to meet people. After we finished teaching our lessons for the day, we’d hop on our scooters and ride to one of the main yoga studios around the Chiang Mai Moat. The yoga studio was sweaty in the tropical heat, even though there was no glass in the windows and it was open on all sides to the evening air. The smell of mosquito repellent mingled with incense as rows and rows of foreigners unfurled their mats.
After the session, people would get back on their scooters and zip off for delicious Thai food together, maybe a spicy mango salad, pumpkin curry, or pad thai. It was a melting pot of nationalities, different yoga experiences, and travel stories. I lapped up every new encounter with people who all seemed to be starting afresh in some way. To an extent, I was just following the crowd by heading along to the yoga studio every night. But at the same time, the yoga itself kept calling me back to the mat.
It was mysterious, the spell that the yoga routines cast over me. I’d previously struggled with seated meditation on the few times I’d tried. My mind always seemed too busy, too noisy, too full of messages I didn’t want to hear. In the yoga classes, each posture was like a moving meditation. The asanas, or movements, were easier than seated meditation because I could
focus on the sensations in my body to drown out the noise in my head. I loved it, but I never imagined yoga would become such an important part of my life.
Looking back at my time in Chiang Mai, it seems curious that I first started to explore my queerness just after I first started yoga. Coincidence or connection? Once I started to turn inwards, it’s like something clicked into place. Have you ever searched for a radio station on an old analogue radio? You turn the dial, and it sounds all fuzzy until you reach a radio station. Then you twizzle the dial more carefully to get the best signal and clearest sound quality. For years, the fuzzy noise was like my relationship with myself. For a long time, I couldn’t hear my inner voice clearly. When I started yoga, it was as if the fog of noise lifted just enough for me to catch a glimpse of the station I was looking for. It was the radio station of my own inner voice, which is a deeper, wiser voice than the chatter in my head.
Maybe this inner voice is intuition, or a gut feeling. I call it my true queer self. Once I connected with myself through yoga, the radio channel suddenly seemed to open. Everything became clearer. I’m not suggesting that it happened after one yoga class. It did feel quick for me, but maybe that new connection to my inner voice appeared to be a radical change because the starting point was so low. I had become disconnected to myself because I had abandoned my (queer) self. Did yoga help me find my queer self? I think so.
Wherever you are on your queer journey and yoga journey, I’m honoured to be together in this moment, shining brighter because of our energetic connection. We are all energetically connected—everyone reading this book, practising these sequences, engaging in these tasks. Whatever fresh starts you’ve already made and no matter what lies around the corner, know that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be right now. If you’re ready, let’s get into the practice because it’s the practice of yoga that can support us whenever we start over.
Queer Yoga: Downward-Facing Dog, Child’s Pose, Mountain Pose, Forward Fold, Warrior II
If this is your first ever time practising yoga, welcome to the mat or chair! Or perhaps I should say welcome to the mat and chair because the invitation is very much to try both. With each of these poses, turn inwards to see how it feels inside your body rather than worrying how it looks on the outside.
We’re starting with some fundamental poses that are often used to reset and come back to a sense of connection with yourself. Mountain Pose is like home base and gives us a chance to check in with all the different parts of the body.
Child’s Pose is often considered a resting pose, which some people use as a break in between other poses. However, for many bodies Child’s Pose is not a break at all and can feel quite strong. Be open to your own unique experience of the shapes.
Similarly, Downward-Facing Dog can feel strong especially as we’re starting out on our yoga journey. But for some people, it might become a yummy pause point to stretch out the legs and back in between other poses. Whatever the sensations in this shape, can you approach it with curiosity rather than attaching labels of “like” or “dislike”? Let each pose be an experience of your body and your reality in this moment.
The poses in this section offer a range of energetic sensations. Forward Fold invites us to turn in towards ourselves, while Warrior II can feel more connected to the outside world. Tune in to the energy of each shape and how it impacts the energy that you’re bringing to the practice today.
a) Downward-Facing Dog to Child’s Pose
This mini flow features our first two poses, Downward-Facing Dog and Child’s Pose. Downward-Facing Dog features again in chapter 7. Child’s Pose is used again in chapters 2, 4, and 9.
Downward-Facing Dog on the Mat
Come to all fours and then move your hands a little further forward. Tuck your toes and lift your knees, sending your hips up into the air.
When you arrive in your Downward-Facing Dog, play around with the placement of your hands and feet. Try stepping the feet wider, maybe even as wide as your yoga mat, and then narrower. Step your feet closer to your hands to create a sharper angle in your down-dog shape, then step your feet back to create a softer angle. Find the spot that feels right for you.
Encourage your shoulder blades down your back and allow your head to hang comfortably. Stay with the breath, taking steady inhales and long releasing exhales, maybe with a couple of sighs through the mouth.
When you’re ready to come down, gently lower your knees and sit or kneel to shake off your wrists.
Downward-Facing Dog on the Chair
Find a stable seated position with two blocks under the feet if they do not reach the floor. You can use books if you don’t have blocks. Have two more blocks handy (or more books).
Reach forward and find a block in each hand. Ground into the chair through your sitz bones, which are the bones at the bottom of your pelvis. If you can’t feel them, have a wiggle or rock around to get a sense of these two bumps of the bones. You can even slide a hand under your bottom to find them. Take your hand out, root into the seat, and then reach the crown of your head forward. Allow your head to hang comfortably and encourage the shoulder blades down the back.
Find a steady breathing pattern, allowing the breath to support you in this shape. When you’re ready to come out of the pose, release the blocks and slowly come up to sit.
Child’s Pose on the Mat
From an all fours position, bring your knees wider, towards the edges of your mat. Bring your big toes to touch and sink your hips back towards your heels. If your hips are in the air, you might like to bring a cushion between your bottom and your legs so you can sink back into the cushion.
Allow your head to come down to the mat or to a block or cushion if it doesn’t reach the mat. The arms can be stretched out in front of you, bringing them wide enough to make sure you do not feel pinching around the shoulders.
As you settle into your Child’s Pose, find the breath and surrender with each exhale. Stay for a few rounds of breath before using your hands to push yourself back up.
Child’s Pose on the Chair
Take a cushion, bolster, or a rolled-up blanket, and put this on your lap. Fold over this prop, allowing the body to drape over the support, so the head releases. Your arms might release by your side, too, or you might prefer to hug the cushion or other support.
Make sure there is enough space for the breath. If you feel that the breath is too squashed, you may need to come out of the pose and adjust the props or leave them to one side to find a comfortable level of forward folding.
On the chair, Child’s Pose and a Forward Fold are very similar in terms of the shape. Personally, I like to use a cushion in my Child’s Pose on the chair to find a more restful position. Experiment to find what feels good for you.
Create space for the breath in the back body, expanding with each inhale and letting go with each exhale. Stay for a few rounds of breath before rolling back up to seated and removing your prop.
FLOW TO START OVER: Downward-Facing Dog to Child’s Pose
Once you feel comfortable with the poses separately, you might like to combine your Downward-Facing Dog (sometimes called Down Dog) and your Child’s Pose into a more flowing sequence. However, this is unnecessary and is not the aim of learning the poses individually. Each pose is already complete.
Check in with your energy and any messages from your body to decide if and how you would like to repeat the poses. Use the breath as a guide; if your breath starts to feel short and sharp, perhaps you need to back off. Always stop if something doesn’t feel good for you.
Find your version of Down Dog, whether that’s on the mat or chair. Exhale when you arrive to let go of whatever isn’t serving you. Let go of anything you don’t want to take into this fresh start. Inhale in Down Dog and then exhale to find your version of Child’s Pose.
We’re turning in here, turning towards our true queer selves. Take an inhale and allow your queer self to arrive. Exhale to surrender, feeling grounded and connected to queer folx everywhere trying this very same practice.
Repeat this flow a few more times if that feels right for you, moving between Down Dog and Child’s Pose. Experiment with different breathing patterns. You could stay longer in each pose if you like. Listen to your body and be your own teacher—that is the joy of developing a home practice.
b) Mountain Pose to Forward Fold
This mini flow features two new poses, Mountain Pose and Forward Fold. Mountain Pose is used throughout this book as a neutral starting point to reset. It features in mini flows in chapters 8 and 9. Forward Fold is used again in chapter 9.
Mountain Pose on the Mat
Stand with your arms by your side. Feel the roots under your feet connecting you to the earth. Find a sense of growing taller through the crown of the head at the same time as you root down into the earth.
Broaden across your collarbones, which you can find across the top of your chest, at the bottom of the neck. As you allow the collarbones to soften, tune in to a sense of opening across the heart space. Invite your shoulder blades down the back. Soften around the face and relax into the shape.
As you inhale, draw energy up from the earth. As you exhale, send that energy back down. Settle into a steady, comfortable breath. Take a couple more rounds of breath here in your Mountain Pose.
A MONTH-BY-MONTH
