Out, Proud, and Still on Shift: A Space to Breathe

This past weekend, we gathered in an intimate room with 10 incredible people — LGBTQ+ professionals and allies — to hold space for something many of us don’t often get: a moment to exhale and just be.

The event, Out, Proud, and Still on Shift, was created with one goal in mind: to offer a space where folks navigating identity, stigma, and stress in the workplace could feel seen, heard, and validated. And that’s exactly what happened.

**Out, Proud, and Still on Shift: Can You Truly Be Yourself at Work?**

Stories of What We Carry

Together, we explored the Stories of What We Carry — the silent ones we’ve tucked into our scrubs, uniforms, and day-to-day lives. In small group discussions, participants bravely shared what it’s like to show up in systems that often weren’t built with them in mind. From those conversations, themes emerged that felt so familiar, yet so rarely spoken out loud:

Overcompensating to be taken seriously
Staying silent to stay safe
Playing small
The fear of being “cancelled” or misunderstood
Concealing identity
Code-switching across settings
Avoiding connection
Tolerating discrimination
Fear of judgment
Feeling like an impostor
And coping by being complicit just to get through the day

These stories weren’t shared as complaints, but as truths. The truths of survival strategies in environments that don’t always make room for authenticity. And what’s the cost of all this? Participants named what many of us can relate to: lost rest, lost joy, lost connection. Lost self.

We connected these stories to the body’s stress response. How fight, flight, freeze, and fawn aren’t just buzzwords, but deeply embodied reactions to feeling unsafe, invisible, or on edge. We talked about how stress doesn’t always come from emergencies or a big scary event; sometimes it’s the slow build of feeling like you have to wear a mask at work just to make it through your shift.

And yet, the room was not heavy. It was real and deeply affirming.

We honored the ways each person has coped. Nothing was questioned or critiqued. Instead, we recognized how the nervous system finds ways to protect us, even if it’s by numbing, overworking, avoiding, or people-pleasing. From there, participants offered each other tools. Breathing. Boundaries. Naming what’s in our control. Reclaiming autonomy. Stepping back into our window of tolerance.

There was warmth, connection, and even laughter, especially when what 24 divided by 3 was asked (this will now be an inside joke, hehehe…). All of these over sweet treats and soft ube as well as malunggay-cheese pandesal from Harina, a local Filipino bakery. The conversations didn’t stop when the event ended. Folks stayed back to connect, chat, and just be.

Socialization over Filipino pandesal and other treats

Why this matters.

This event reminded me of the power of safe spaces. When we create room for people to show up fully, not just as professionals, but as full human beings, something shifts. Walls come down. People exhale. And maybe, just maybe, they begin to feel more at home in their own skin.

I’m especially grateful to my colleague and friend, Chris Galeno, a nurse practitioner and proud gay — for co-creating and co-facilitating this space with me. His insight, compassion, and shared lived experience made this offering even more meaningful.

I’m also so grateful to everyone who showed up, vulnerably, bravely, and in community. And if you’re someone who’s been carrying a lot in silence, I hope you know this: you're not alone. There are spaces for you, too.

Stay tuned for future offerings! And if you missed this one, we hope to see you at the next!

by Gelica Tatarenko