The Need for Queer Spaces in Yoga
I arrive in a damp raincoat and Birkenstocks. It’s is a gorgeous old building in the city centre, tucked neatly into a quiet side street, flanked front and back by a garden that makes the space feel like a lush oasis, not typical of Scotland’s capital. The midsummer rain has saturated the greens and the whole place feels gently alive. All kinds of people are filing through the door, and before I need to ask where I’m going, I’m met by friendly faces. Aiste, one of the organisers of Queer Yoga Edinburgh points me towards a room at the end of the hall.
A note on ‘queer’: Queer is an umbrella term that can be used to describe anyone who identifies as anything other than heterosexual and/or cis-gendered, including anyone who is questioning or identifies somewhere along a spectrum rather than within binaries and tick-able boxes.
We settle into a practice led by Megan. The hallway outside is full of chatter and laughter with another event going on in the building. It doesn’t feel like a distraction, but rather creates the atmosphere of being in someone’s home and makes me feel even more safe and at ease. The practice is slow and gentle, accessible and adaptable. Rain patters on the skylights above, and a kind interruption by a bee reminds us to practice karma yoga (the yoga of action, in saving the bee) and the principle ahimsa (kindness, talking sweet words to the poor bee). After the practice we flock to the kitchen to pour cups of tea and reconvene in the practice space to chat.
Some were locals and had been attending the class regularly, others were visiting from out of town, and as different as we all were, everyone connected in the shared experience of queerness; even if that went completely unspoken, there was a mutual understanding there. I am struck by how different this space felt compared to the LGBT society events I had attended at university nine years ago where I had felt distinctly out of place and uncomfortable in a space where everyone already seemed to know each other and all interactions centred around alcohol.
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Later, I joined Megan and Aiste, two of the organisers of Queer Yoga Edinburgh, in a nearby coffee shop to talk about the work that they’re doing and what led them to creating this space. I was curious to learn more from them about why we need designated queer spaces for yoga rather than simply creating more inclusive environments for queer people in all places where yoga is already offered.
I began by asking what barriers LGBTQ+ people might face that lead them to feel excluded from yoga spaces. Megan and Aiste both noted that many queer people feel like their physical expression and social identities may not match the expectations of the able-bodied, lulu-lemon clad tribes that frequent most yoga spaces. You don’t need to look much further than the branding and hiring practices of most yoga studios to see what they’re talking about; queer bodies often aren’t represented and trans bodies (and experiences) are often not considered.
In my experience as a teacher, I noticed I attracted a more diverse range of clients after embracing the external expression of my queerness; maybe cutting my hair and swapping the lulus for comfy regular clothes made me more approachable? Or maybe it sent the message to those clients that it was okay to show up in their authentic expression too. That’s only a small thing I can do as a queer yoga teacher, and I’m limited by what the studios I teach in can offer. Megan explains that at Queer Yoga Edinburgh their aim is to “affirm and centre the experience for queer bodies, folks post-surgery, different body sizes, expressions and all mobilities and/or disabilities”, going far beyond the scope of most studios, who may only be offering gender neutral bathrooms and an additional ‘non-binary’ box to tick on the welcome form as a nod to inclusion.
Megan added that LGBTQ+ people are also more likely than the average population to struggle with mental health issues, (although being queer doesn’t inherently cause mental health issues, “some things LGBTIQ+ people go through can affect their mental health, such as discrimination, homophobia or transphobia, social isolation, rejection, and difficult experiences of coming out” — Mental Health.org.uk) and that this might cause people to hesitate before stepping through the doors of a studio. If you aren’t sure that your expression will be welcomed, or that your identity will be affirmed, and you’re already struggling with depression or anxiety, why take the risk of leaving the house to practice?
It’s not only mental health issues that are more prevalent within the LGBTQ+ community, but neurodiversity too; which includes autism, ADHD and other differences related to information processing. Yoga studios may not be the most accessible environment for people with sensory issues, (loud music, bright lights and hot rooms all may trigger overwhelm) and could be particularly intimidating to people who struggle with approaching new environments for the first time without having a clear idea of what to expect. Queer Yoga Edinburgh also offers an extensive description of what to expect, to make their space as approachable as possible. There are also gender neutral toilets, a variety of props for different mobility needs, and always two organisers present, one teaching and one to be around should anyone need support.
There’s so much here that other studios could easily learn from, alongside hiring a more diverse range of teachers and staff and offering diversity and equality training to all staff to ensure nobody is mis-gendered or discriminated against. But is this enough? I think this is a case of ‘yes, and’: yes yoga studios and teachers can make changes to ensure they create a more approachable, welcoming space for queer people, AND we still need designated queer spaces to practice yoga.
One of the things that Queer Yoga Edinburgh offers that a regular yoga class can’t, is a chance for building connections and community with people who relate to your experience. Reflecting on my point earlier about the prominence of alcohol and high energy environments in other LGBTQ+ spaces, Megan noted the importance of this being a sober space to meet other queer and questioning folk, especially for those who are also neurodiverse; “its a sober space,” she tells me, “so it’s not a gay club or a gay bar which can be quite overwhelming, especially for people who might be autistic or struggle with ADHD or anyone who’s just not into drinking. You don’t even need to speak to people, you can just come do your yoga and you have the choice to stay [for tea] at the end.” There’s very much an ‘everyone’s welcome’ or ‘come as you are’ ethos here, you don’t have to prove or qualify your queerness to be there, and you don’t have to mask or hide any part of who you are.
Aiste echoed this ethos in sharing her experience as a youth worker and yoga teacher at a community centre in Lithuania where she’s from. “[The centre] was based on creativity, spirituality, self realisation, music. We had a lot of stuff going on that was open to everyone.” She explains how they reached out to the local community to get more people involved and break the stereotype that it was a place for people with serious support needs, and naturally they noticed that the people showing up were very queer, and in part that was because “[queer people] cannot find a place where they feel safe”, and the youth workers offered that safe space, with their approachability they could meet them on their level. It’s interesting to observe that if a safe space is created, it will draw out those who need it most.
This underlines the importance of having designated safe, sober community spaces. Community is vital in creating an environment where individuals feeling validated, seen and understood, and is especially important for those struggling with mental health issues. Without community, these individuals are at risk of feeling isolated or alone in their experience and may struggle more with their mental health than they would if they had access to support and a group of others who relate to and share in their experiences. It’s nice to come together and do something (like yoga) that isn’t about gender or sexuality or dating, but in the knowledge that no part of your identity is being questioned; you are safe to be in your own expression and enjoy the company of others who will meet you with mutual respect and understanding. This doesn’t need to be limited to yoga; queer book clubs, pottery classes, hiking groups, any spaces that open up the potential for building connections could help create that sense of community.
This being said, yoga offers a particularly useful set of skills to the LGBTQ+ community as the nature of yoga as a healing modality incorporates the practice of self-inquiry, alongside a range of tools to help regulate the nervous system. All of these aspects of yoga are immensely helpful in supporting mental health, and can also be part of the process of discovering or embracing queerness, (as was my experience on a 6 week cacao course and chakra journey led by my dear friend Skye), and can help break down internalised homophobia by fostering compassion and self-love and acceptance. Megan mentions that while all of these benefits can be found through self-practice at home, there is something profound that happens when this healing happens in a group context. I can certainly attest to that from experience too.
We continued to venture into more nuanced issues related to this topic, especially regarding more broadly ‘spiritual’ practices that float around the wellbeing sphere; sharing our concerns and experiences of online courses, trainings and certain interpretations of yoga philosophy that can misrepresent the teachings of subjects like yin and yang, ‘divine masculine' and ‘sacred feminine’ to fit a western framework in such a way that erases or undermines the queer experience. There’s a lot to dive into there and I’d love to go into more detail in a separate article.
For now, I’d like to thank you for taking the time to read this, whether you are queer, questioning, a teacher or practitioner of yoga or simply a curious reader. I hope that you might have learnt something or considered a new perspective. My biggest takeaway from this conversation has been this: a queer yoga space is about more than just tolerating or accommodating queer bodies, it’s about wholeheartedly accepting and celebrating them, in all of their forms, through all of their changes and each of their evolutions. These spaces are necessary and can be transformational, and I’m grateful to people like Megan and Aiste, and their colleagues Jen and Ash, for taking the initiative to create these safe spaces wherever they are needed but not yet present.
If you’d like to support Queer Yoga Edinburgh by donating or attending one of their offerings, you can find out more by joining their Facebook group, or keep an eye on their Eventbrite page. All of their classes are donation based, so you can pay what you can afford. They are planning a retreat towards the end of July, and they are also looking to add to their teaching team, so send them a message if you’re interested!
Jen, Ash, Aiste & Megan, the Queer Yoga Edinburgh team.
Note: Queer Yoga Edinburgh is run by a group of organisers (pictured above!) funded through Edinburgh based charity, LGBT Health and Wellbeing. Classes are currently run at the Salisbury Centre (as described above) and Lila Yoga in Bruntsfield.
Find more information here:
Queer Yoga Edinburgh Facebook Page
Queer Yoga Edinburgh Eventbrite
LGBT Health and Wellbeing Website
Lila Yoga Website
The Salisbury Centre
Resources from mentalhealth.org.uk:
Albert Kennedy Trust – supports young LGBTIQ+ people aged 16 to 25.
Gendered Intelligence – a trans-led charity that works to increase the quality of trans people’s lives, especially those under the age of 25.
Imaan – supports LGBTIQ+ Muslims and provides an online forum where people can share experiences and ask for help.
LGBT Consortium– search their database of LGBTIQ+ groups, projects and organisations to find services near you, including mental health services.
Stonewall – offers help and advice for LGBTIQ+ people and their allies.
Switchboard LGBT helpline – offers information and support. All their volunteers are LGBTIQ+.
Mind – a list of organisations offering mental health support for LGBTIQ+ people.
Further reading on this topic: “Why Queer Yoga Spaces Are Vital” -M. CAMELLIA for Yoga Journal.