2025 Photo-Documentary Features
“The first time Queerness occurred to me, I was 12 years old in South Dakota. It occurred to me, at first, like a passing thought. I watched a YouTube video of a group going to an anime convention, all of them varied in gender expression and in Queer relationships, and I thought, ‘Yes, this feels right.’
I had already had crushes on all different types of people. I had no concrete attachment to my gender, aside from feeling aligned toward masculinity at the time—fluidity came to me later in life. My home life was dysfunctional (an understatement), and so explicitly acknowledging my Queerness seems easy in comparison. It was how most other people reacted that made existing as outwardly Queer difficult. South Dakota is still one of the most difficult states in the U.S. to navigate as a Queer individual.
I retreated inwardly for a long time, and rediscovered the full extent of my Queerness and the power of Queer community when I reached adulthood in Maine. Yet, I’ve ALWAYS been in search of connection and the fulfillment of connecting others. Queerly ME embodies this passion, and a lot of what I didn’t have access to growing up, what we all deserve and need to feel belonging. And so, if you find yourself in need of community, reach out. Queerly ME is here for you.”
Kyle, Any Pronouns
“After years of following the societally-approved path, my life completely shifted around my 40th birthday—divorce, a shift in my sexuality, embracing my intuition as my guide, and eventually moving to Maine. I went from living in the shadows to fully living my truth, a truth I continue to deepen into daily.
I am passionate about the Healing Arts and offer therapy, intuitive healing, and community gatherings in Falmouth, Maine. My life purpose is clear: to bring infrastructure into communities that revives intentional connection and promotes spiritual wellness. While society often leads us down an ego-driven path, I believe the future is about soul-led living. I host intimate, substance-free gatherings where we connect in real, raw, and groupthink-free ways. I live and breathe this mission.
Let’s Connect! If you have insights on unmet community needs or want to share your thoughts on the loneliness epidemic, spirituality, and/or connection I’d love to hear from you.”
Julia, She/Her
“Cee holds joy as a central value in their life. In addition to rekindling their theatre-kid joy as a part of an improv troupe, Cee finds joy in music, dance, sewing, coziness, animals, cooking, friends, and family (in any and all combinations). They've been working in education for most of their adult life, but still keep rock-star as fallback career. Cee lives in Brunswick with their teenage son, dog, and two cats.”
Cee, They/Them
“I think fear right now is a survival instinct, for many of us. I fear for myself, and my sisters, and my parents, and my students and my trans siblings and the people who are told are illegal (as if that is a thing a person can be!). I fear for the people who are forced out of their homes, stripped out of their humanities overseas. I feel fear in my bones,and underneath my finger nails, and in the sobs that get caught in my throat.
It’s ok if fear has been your companion too— squeeze its hand gently.
Now, we need to utilize our fear. It is incredibly easy to feel submerged with panic, to barrel into cycles of ‘what ifs’, to be lost amidst what feels like a catastrophe. We need to stay informed. We will be dusting away the spiderwebs of hateful rhetoric. We need to recognize fear-mongering for what it is. Keep reading your books, keep researching to understand your rights, keep correcting people when they’re misinformed, keep educating yourself more, keep showing up for community.
I love you, I hope you’re taking care of yourself.”
Yusur, They/He
“Every step is a story in its own right and every breath a rebellion in a world keen on erasure.
In the quiet of the outdoors, I found solace and a community that thrives against the odds.
I am grateful for all I connected with through hiking, camping, and participating in other nature-centered activities. Your remarkable collective freedom is a memory near and dear to my heart.
Under open skies and among kindred spirits, I was reminded that Queer existence is as natural and unstoppable as the rivers that carve their way through stone” in solidarity with everyone outside the binary-conditioned existence.”
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“It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences,” Audre Lorde wrote in Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches.
Nina, They/Them
“Although right now, very early 2025, I’m stepping steadily into my thirties, it wasn’t until June of 2023 when I was able to begin building what is my own family in Maine, thanks to people that have been willing to help me navigate around the vastness and complexities of the current world we live in. I am now a part of a community where I’m embraced for being exactly as I am, doing the things I love and loving the people I choose to love.
Every path you choose to take or find yourself in comes with hardships of all sorts, people and things you can’t control, some problems will last for longer, some will soon disappear overnight, in these situations, my mom has taught me to always ‘be grateful of what I have and conscious of what I do’, ultimately meaning to acknowledge that I’m the only constant in every situation so I need to take care of myself and to face the present with gratitude, happiness and confidence.
These paths also come with blessings, all of them, delight yourself in them.
Smile, it will only get better from here.”
Alejandro, He/Him. Venezuelan.
“I never thought being queer was bad. Growing up, my family never made comments about queer people. My father brought my brothers and I to a pro-gay rally in Portland when I was 11. I always assumed that having a crush on boys and girls was totally okay. As I got a bit older, I was exposed to more and learned that not everyone had the same feelings about the queer community. I had a long-term boyfriend through high school, so outwardly addressing my sexuality was never a topic of conversation. Once I moved away to college, I started dating a girl and came out to my family, friends, and community. Coming out is hard enough, but in late 2015, with the presidential election right around the corner, it was especially eye-opening. On top of all that, I was diagnosed with bone cancer 2 months later.
Here I am, 18 years old, living 2+ hours away from home, baby gay, and now... cancer patient. Stage 2 Chondrosarcoma: Bone Cancer. I had a softball-sized tumor growing off of my pelvis, and the ONLY treatment is surgery. I moved home, my bed in my mother's living room, and I just had major abdominal surgery to remove the tumor and what we thought were healthy margins. A year later, the cancer returned, and I had to have an even bigger surgery. I felt like I was drowning, searching for any kind of footing. I was navigating life as not only a queer person, but also a cancer patient. I struggled for years trying to find this new version of myself. Since 2015, I have had 4 surgeries to remove tumors, I am missing a bone, and I had to learn how to walk again. Since 2015, I have found my people in the queer community, and married an amazing woman. I have taken everything I have been lucky enough to experience, and I formed this new beautiful version of myself that I am incredibly proud of. Please check out curesarcoma.org and expand your knowledge of bone cancer as it is often referred to as the "forgotten cancer" and does not discriminate!”
Hannah, She/They
“I pulled my father's abandoned acoustic guitar out of his closet when I was 14. At the time, I was into heavy metal and grunge. My first band was called Phlegm Sandwich, and we mostly played Nirvana covers at the Bucksport High School talent show. After I graduated from UMF, I moved to Boston and joined a queer punk/noise band called Pornbelt. Over the next few decades, I was a part of many groups, from old-time/contra to costumed cover bands. Whenever I would move to a new city, I would immediately start looking for people to play music with.
After returning to Maine in 2019, I wanted to get a queer punk or old-time band together. I started to give up on it until I met a bass player who wanted to play both! After we found our front person, it came together. Many years ago, I tried to start a band called Queer Beach, named after a lesbian pulp-fiction novel from the 60's.That band didn't take off, but I always hoped I'd be able to use the name again. When we were trying to decide a name for our current band, my bandmate said what about Queer Beach!?! I couldn’t believe it! Amidst the political nightmare, Queer Beach and teaching quilting classes in Portland and Westbrook bring me immense joy and keeps me focused on my friends and community.”
To learn more about Travis' quilting classes check out: travisclough.com or @T_Bag_Maine on Instagram.
Travis, He/They
“When I was outed in high school in 1978, all of my friends stopped speaking to me. My discharge from the US Navy reads; ‘Reason for Separation - Homosexuality - Engaged in, attempted to engage in, or solicited another to engage in a homosexual act or acts.’ Now, in 2025, gay marriage is legal and my wife and I can live openly as lesbians. The cultural change in acceptance of Queer folks over the past forty years has been rapid and astonishing. At least it was, until the Republican party so successfully targeted our community to be the scapegoats used by every fascist regime to gain power. Although I am horrified about the direction in which our country is headed, I stand defiant. My mantra for the next four years and as long as it takes is, ‘Louder and prouder.’ We will not go back.”
Rebecca, She/Her
“I’m in a process right now in my life of learning that love doesn’t have to be punitive. Growing up I believed that love was the practice of becoming someone lovable. I then spent most of my life molding myself into as many versions of lovable as necessary, leaving me completely detached from who I actually was or what I wanted. Queer love, by nature, demands the opposite - it’s gentle, it’s curious, it’s fiercely understanding. Being in queer relationships have quite literally awakened me to another way of being, they’ve let me be messier and welcomed me being a person in-process, even when I contest. Queer people celebrate themselves in a way that no other community I know does. Being given the permission to celebrate myself too is mostly very scary, but it’s also the most exciting offering.
Losing all sense of myself has now left me with the unique pleasure of getting to be curious about this thing called Thai from the beginning. I get to take myself on dates, I get to meet myself for the first time and ask as many questions as I want: What’s my favorite meal? What makes me nervous? How do I want to be loved?”
Thai, She/Her
“In the last five years, I have grown into my queerness immensely. I used to fear letting the world see me for who I was. Now, I am so comfortable in my skin. A lot has to do with transitioning and finding support within my friends, family, and community. It seemed to be getting better for a while, but now, with the current political climate, it's a scary time. I've had many people come to me for advice about how to support trans people in their lives, and what I can tell you is to fight for them when no one else is, even if they can't see you do it. Tell them you love them, often.
As exhausting as it is to constantly fight for your place in the world, I am taking time to cultivate a life that I love to live. I want to be a role model for younger people to keep going, to prove that it does, in fact, get better. I want to create something that means something and that will last. Being queer or trans is not a choice, but if it were, I'd choose it in every lifetime. We are palpable and unmeasurable. We radiate a sacred joy.”