About

I am a ninth-generation Mormon. If there is such a thing as Mormon DNA, it runs through my ancestry, my upbringing, and every room I've ever tried to leave and kept coming back to. I am also queer, a wife, a mother of three, and a philospher and artist by training . I did not choose these things so much as I kept becoming them, one honest reckoning at a time.

I write at the intersection of queer theology, Mormonism, and transhumanism — not because these are three separate interests, but because they are one continuous question asked in different languages: what does it mean to become? I've been hurt by the institutions I love, and I've stayed anyway, not out of obligation but because I believe the tradition is bigger, stranger, and more redeemable than the harm done in its name. I wrote Queer Mormon Theology: An Introduction because I needed language for a body the tradition hadn't yet learned to bless, and because I trust that continuing revelation means the conversation isn't finished.

I've served as CEO and board member of the Mormon Transhumanist Association, sat on the boards of the Christian Transhumanist Association and Sunstone, and served on the editorial board of Dialogue. But titles tell you where I've stood, not what I've carried. What I've carried is a conviction that dignity isn't earned and autonomy isn't negotiable. Every body, every identity, every strange and peculiar being is already worthy of thriving.

I'm currently in a season of returning — to writing, to speaking, to this work. After several years spent tending what needed tending, I come back slower and gentler, but not smaller. If you're here, you're welcome exactly as you are. Come in. Let's become together.