Firstly, I am a queer, first generation Palestinian/Jordanian woman who came here when I was 5 from the other side of the water, Amman, Jordan. I was raised in a strict Arab household where being queer was forbidden so, as one can imagine, (and as most of you can probably relate), my formative years were tumultuous in many ways. By the time my teenage years hit, home life had become so unbearable that I had to make a decision when I was 18 whether I wanted to bury myself or just come to terms with my sexuality and commit to living my truth. 

With only a bag of clothes and my raging homosexuality, I walked out of my parents house for good. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was walking out of their lives forever as they continue to disown me to this day. I also walked out of my childhood that day and I had to learn many hard lessons growing up that fast. Most of those lessons learned the hard way.  

But with nothing left to lose at that point, I poured my entire being into my career. Fortunately, I got on my feet and took hold of my life. I started my career working for a non profit as an HR manager. Working for the people and advocating for them was fulfilling but I knew I was meant to do more. I wouldn’t find out what that “more” was until much later. With my career intact at that point, I found myself exploring DC’s queer spaces and one night at DC’s first lesbian bar, Phase 1, I met my wife. Three years later, we got married. Three years later, my wife birthed our little girl. And the time in-between, I quit my HR job and we began flipping homes full time. 

Flipping houses allowed my creative outlet to flourish with designing while also giving me freedom and flexibility in my schedule. I was elated to now have that time with my family but I felt stagnant in all areas outside of that one. 

After a deep dive into a self analysis, I realized I missed advocating. I missed people. I missed community. And I needed it.  And I needed to advocate for my own community. 

That’s when I realized just how underserved our community really is. And it was time to immerse myself in my community and cultivate a safe space for queer, trans, non binary and sapphic women. We were starved for these spaces to connect and mingle. Therein, the inception of Qrowd began. 

And what a wild ride it has been since the very start. We have gained a massive amount of support along the way and created lasting relationships. There's a beauty in community, especially a minority group. 

Not only has Qrowd provided community to me and many, it has given me a sense of home and belonging that I have yearned for since I stepped away from my childhood many moons ago. The stories I've heard of people meeting, connecting and forging opportunities for this community because of our events has been a dream come true. 

Qrowd has been connecting this community since the beginning of 2022 and I vow to continue to advocate, connect and support this mission. With that said, it's just me, myself and I behind the scenes. From designing the logo and flyers and merch to relationship building with venues and other lgbtqia affiliates to social media management to marketing to event planning, I am doing it alone. Your support is so vital and your understanding is key as I continue to host events. Being a wife, a mother and owning 2 businesses, things can be overwhelming and sometimes my priorities have to shift accordingly. But I thrive in the chaos so just prepare for an eventful summer, okay? 

Ultimately, I say all of this to say, thank you. Thank you for being a part of this movement, this magic, this moment. And if you see me at the events, please come say hi! If you don't see me, just know I'm being pulled from different directions and being a mom to a toddler has its own set of challenges but I remain committed to the mission. Thank you to all that have shown me an outpouring of love and support. My blood, sweat and tears goes into this and will continue to do so. As always, let’s fucking party!