The most compelling evidence that the queer community has a secret plan to take over CrossFit is through the explosive growth of OUTWOD — a group founded by Will Lanier, a 33-year-old Austin, Texas-based coach, that hosts CrossFit workouts for the LGBTQ community. In 2009, just six people came to the group’s inaugural event in New York. This year, OUTWOD hosted 40 workouts in June alone, surpassed 15,000 followers on Instagram, and is on track to welcome over 5,000 queer athletes at workouts the world over from Belgium to Boise. Read the article here.
Being bad at sports as a teen didn’t just make you non-athletic in the suburbs of Salt Lake City — it also made you a queer. And since I was queer, by the transitive law of homophobia, I figured I must also be bad at sports (I was also bad at math). So why even try? Read the article here.
It’s never been easier for L.G.B.T.Q. people to become parents. We can now adopt and serve as foster parents in every state in the country. Thanks to advancements in assisted reproductive technology, otherwise known as ART, and innovative co-parenting and known-donor arrangements, we’re also having biological children in greater numbers. Despite this progress, a complex network of state laws, regulations and restrictions affect many of our most common paths to parenthood, meaning would-be L.G.B.T.Q. parents can face a far more complicated legal landscape than our straight counterparts. Read the article here.
The process of adopting can be a long, complicated and emotional ride, with far more legal and financial roadblocks than many people assume. But, as most adoptive parents will tell you, it’s also a deeply fulfilling journey. Read the article here.
As two young me prepare to fight, a semicircle of onlookers quickly gathers around them. One is more imposingly built than the other, but this match won’t be won based on who can throw the strongest punch. Those observing, moreover, are not passive spectators: They drum, clap and sing, or pluck a single-string instrument called a berimbau. As the music reaches a fever pitch, the battle begins. One of the men explodes into a backflip, the other launches into several powerful turns of a cartwheel. This is capoerira. From Luxury Spring 2019
EACH autumn, thousands of wine lovers flock to Napa, California, to take part in the region’s harvest season. Disciples of this pilgrimage, which takes place roughly between June and October each year, ascribe an almost spiritual quality to the experience—harvest devotees trek from one winery to the next for the opportunity to breathe in the intoxicating aroma of crushed fruit, and pay homage to the grapes to be used in the next year’s vintages. Read the article here.
Trystan Reese was watching a French talk show on which he’d recently appeared as a guest when the following words crept onto the screen, directly below his image: “Le maman est à la gauche.” His French was rusty, but hours of Duolingo lessons weren’t required to get the gist: Trystan, a trans father of three, had just been called a “mother” on Salut les Terriens!, a popular French television program reaching 1.5 million viewers per episode.
“TWIST more slowly,” Mariangela instructed me, through a translator, in her native Sicilian dialect. Mariangela was attempting to teach me her homespun macaroni-making method as part of a private cooking class arranged by the Belmond Villa Sant’Andrea, a beachside resort in Taormina, Sicily. The process, which Mariangela made look effortless, involves forming fresh pasta around a thin wire before twisting the resulting noodle off, all without breaking the dough. I kept breaking the dough.
If asked to describe a gay dad (like, an actual gay father with actual children), most people would probably picture the following kind of a guy: he’d no doubt be wealthy—a successful lawyer, maybe. He’d be living in an urban area like Los Angeles. And he’d most definitely be raising an adopted Vietnamese daughter alongside his sassy stay-at-home husband who sometimes moonlights as a football coach and professional clown.
NO TRIP to Venice is complete without a walk across the majestic Rialto Bridge or a climb to the top of Campanile Bell Tower. But after a day or two of visiting Venice’s most recognizable sights alongside 60,000 of your closest friends—which is the average number of tourists who fan out across the tiny city on any given day in summer—even the hardiest of travellers will be ready for some Venetian experiences, minus the claustrophobia.
Greg Louganis isn’t exactly an unknown quantity. So your first reaction upon hearing that HBO picked up Back on Board: Greg Louganis, a new documentary about the diver’s life and career, might be to wonder: Really? What’s left to tell?
“Whose got your nose!” someone was carrying on in falsetto. I was mid-eye-roll before realizing, to my mortification, that it was I who was emitting these horrible noises. It was I who had her nose.
“How could you be cynical about humanity and join Airbnb?” It’s a rhetorical question, but in this moment—when nothing but a door separated my mother from my naked guest, and the gallery of hardcore porn he had erected in my living room—I felt I’d found the answer.
Arriving at my scheduled “donation time,” a technician guides me to the “collection room,” points out my various “entertainment options,” and hands me a sterile cup for my “specimen.”
Wow, what a nasty little bird, I thought. Imagine, tricking someone else into raising your own biological offspring. That’s just so wrong, so… Suddenly it hit me: I’m the cuckoo bird.
“But … I’m so short!” This, unfortunately, will always be the first phrase out of my mouth after my good friends, Tori and Kelly, asked me to be their sperm donor over a pizza dinner in Lower Manhattan.
He found this sign on Facebook that said, “Until further notice, celebrate everything,” Danni explained. The saying has become something of a rallying cry for their family and community. “It’s become our brand now.”
Most fathers have to wait years before hearing their children say, “I love you.” Bryon Denton heard those magic words from his son, Jason, the very first day they met.
“Sorry, I like boys!” seems a mismatched response to the question, “Care to save a life?”
