Hi, I’m Gabrielle!
I’m a writer, designer, fiddle player, recently retired Irish dancer, and oldest daughter archetype personified. I write on many topics, with a particular focus on queer issues and identity. I’ve been published most recently in Teen Vogue, The Irish Dancing Globe, and Hey Alma, and I write the weekly newsletter Everything Hurts on Substack.
I’m the founder and creative director of graphic design agency Aura Creative. When I’m not creating, you can catch me taking a dance class, exploring the world, or, apparently, watching hockey (real and fictional). You can follow me, my writing, and my latest activity on Instagram, and learn more about specific parts of my story below.
My LGBTQ+ Story
I first realized I was queer at 11, in the broadly unaccepting early 2000s. At the time, the prospect of coming out wasn’t on the table—the culture was terrifying, and I didn’t see a place for myself in the limited understanding I had of who, queer people could be. I spent 10 years trying to logic away an increasingly undeniable truth until I made a close bisexual friend in college who, leading by beautiful, unapologetic example, inspired me to come out first to myself, then family and friends at 21.
My initial coming-out process was messy, as so many are. I felt very late to the party, and many of the frequent questions I got, even from well-meaning people, showed me how little I understood myself and how unready I felt to be Proud™ out in the world. While I didn’t explicitly hide my identity, it took me many years to be able to own my whole self beyond my closest circle.
An episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia made me realize that I would always feel incomplete unless I felt I could be wholly myself everywhere. I wrote this essay—the first step in a commitment to speak publicly about my experience and bi/queer identity more broadly. I think of this as my second coming out, even though my identity hasn’t changed, since it changed my idea of coming out from a one-time event to a lifelong journey.
In the years since, I have learned that my queer community—even among people I’ve known my whole life—is bigger and stronger than I could ever have dreamed. Where once I couldn’t have fathomed living as I do now, today I am committed to being a resource to anyone my journey may help, whether through education, listening, answering questions, or simply living in a way that may empower others in the way my friend empowered me.
My Dance Story
When I was a junior in college, I took my sister, then 7, to try Irish dancing because we got a coupon for a cheap trial lesson. From the moment the music started, I was absolutely obsessed. I found a beginner class in the city, and before I knew it, I was taking Metro North home every weekend to train in Connecticut. I swore I would never compete, and within months I broke that promise. I began competing in the “& over” category, and after nearly a decade of ridiculously hard work, I finally made it to the Open Championship level (the highest level of competition) in early 2022.
I’m a massively untalented dancer, so starting as an adult and competing against teenagers—often half my age with twice as much energy—often felt like an extremely uphill battle. My journey in Irish dance taught me the magic of combining passion with delusion and how to accept the genuine limits and challenges of starting so late while not letting them limit my dreams and serious goals.
In 2024, I injured my back, and, faced with the prospect of healing and working back towards my previous level, realized I no longer gave a fuck. I had fallen far short of my goals, but learned through retirement that (disappointing though that was) they’d never really mattered, except as a way to devote myself to something I loved. While I have no longer have any interest in dancing, I remain part of the dance world as a writer, community member, and superfan of the art form that, even though I began it as an adult, in so many ways, shaped me as I actually grew up.
