Divine Beyond the Binary - An ode to the queer divinity
- Nicole

- Jul 20
- 5 min read
Updated: Sep 14
Queer, Fluid, and Fierce: Deities Who Mirror Us
Not everyone finds themselves in a church. Some find themselves in the mirror. Or in Loki, who gives birth. In Inari, who dances between genders. In a goddess who is also a god.
I realized early on that traditional images of God weren’t made for me. The bearded father in the sky felt distant. The silently suffering mother goddess, too. What I longed for was a divine reflection that made space for contradiction, for ecstasy, for ambiguity. For queerness. For me. And maybe for you, too.

Divinely Queer? Always Have Been.
The idea that gods are male, organized in hierarchies, and obsessed with rules isn’t a spiritual truth – it’s a product of power, colonialism, and patriarchal control. In many ancient cultures, the divine was soft. Flowing. Luminous. And queer life was part of the spiritual world – not outside of it. Divine diversity was the norm, not the exception. What we now call "radical" or "unconventional" was once: sacred.
If divinity is truly all-encompassing, why think so small?
A Pantheon of Diversity
Who says gods had to pick just two genders? Across cultures and continents, divinity has never been just male or female. It was both. Neither. Everything at once. Long before queer identities had words, they were already sacred – in myth, in temples, in stories. These deities don’t just blur gender lines – they break open every box we’ve built. They remind us that transformation is holy. Ambiguity is a superpower. And identity isn’t something to explain – it’s something to embody.
Loki (Norse-Germanic)
Shape-shifter, gender-bender, mother (!) of an eight-legged horse. Loki crosses boundaries of gender, form, and role. Power comes not from conformity, but from fluidity.
Sources: Snorri Sturluson, Gylfaginning (Prose Edda); Neil Price, The Children of Ash and Elm (2020), pp. 316–319
Ardhanarishvara (Hindu)
Half Shiva, half Parvati – divine balance in a single body. This form represents the sacredness of duality, not division. Ardhanarishvara is a mystical union in one being.
Sources: Shiva Purana, Skanda Purana; Wendy Doniger, Hindu Myths (1975), plus Indian iconography
Inari Ōkami (Shinto, Japan)
Sometimes female, sometimes male, sometimes neither – depending on region and shrine. Inari is the deity of fertility, rice, and foxes – symbolizing change, abundance, and liminality.
Sources: Michael Ashkenazi, Handbook of Japanese Mythology (2003), pp. 148–153; Kojiki, Nihon Shoki
Dionysos (Greek)
God of wine, ecstasy, theatre, and transformation. Dionysos moves fluidly between masculine and feminine, surrounded by queered companions like satyrs and maenads. He is intoxication, rebellion, and transcendence.
Sources: Euripides, The Bacchae; Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book III; Roberto Calasso, The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony (1998)
Māhū (Hawaiian-Polynesian)
In traditional Hawaiian culture, māhū are spiritual beings beyond the gender binary. They are honored as healers, teachers, and mediators between realms.
Sources: Noenoe K. Silva, Aloha Betrayed (2004); Documentary A Place in the Middle (PBS, 2015); Talks by Hinaleimoana Wong-Kalu
Other deities to explore:
Hermaphroditos (Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Book IV) – intersex, embodiment of fluid form
Shikhandi (Mahabharata) – transmasculine warrior
Bahuchara Mata (Indian folk religion) – goddess of gender-nonconformity and patron of Hijra
Mawu-Lisa (West African) – dual creator god/goddess
Erzulie Dantor (Haitian Vodou) – fierce, queer Loa
Attis & the Galli (Roman) – sacred gender transgression
Secondary sources: Serena Nanda, Neither Man Nor Woman (1990); Patrick Cheng, Radical Love (2011); David Halperin, One Hundred Years of Homosexuality (1990); Claudine Michel, Aspects of Haitian Vodou (2006)
Why We Need More Than Sky-Father and Earth-Mother
Deities aren’t just mythological characters – they’re mirrors. And if you never see yourself reflected, you’ll start to believe you don’t belong. For many queer, non-binary, or otherwise non-conforming people, religion has been a space of exclusion. But it could be the opposite: a place of depth, magic, and belonging. A place where your identity isn’t tolerated, but celebrated.
Maybe spirituality isn’t here to explain you. Maybe it’s here to expand you.
Practically Sacred: How to Honor Queer Deities
You don’t need a temple to feel the divine. You only need permission to be yourself.
Spirituality can feel soft. And wild. And queer. And sometimes completely inexplicable. Especially when it’s queer deities we connect with – they don’t ask us to believe obediently. They ask us to feel fully. To meet them in resonance, not reverence. Here are a few ways to invite them into your daily life:
1. Choose a divine companion that fits your now
You don’t need to believe in an all-powerful deity. But you can connect with a divine archetype that reflects your present.
Feeling overwhelmed but inspired? Maybe Dionysos.
Standing between identities? Ardhanarishvara might be calling.
Embracing chaos and clarity? Loki’s been there.
Switch your deities as needed. They’re not bosses. They’re mirrors.
2. Create a queer altar – wild, soft, brave
No need for Pinterest-perfection. Your altar could be a shoebox, a windowsill, a notebook. Or a sticky note with "You are sacred" scribbled in purple ink. Try adding:
Feathers, masks, mirrors (for transformation & identity)
Two candles of different colors (duality & unity)
Crystals like labradorite or fluorite (bridging worlds)
Art, words, found objects that feel like you
The best altar is the one that moves you – not one that gets likes.
3. Write your own prayer – rule-free
You don’t need to sound pious. You can sound wild. Tender. Angry. Lost. Your prayer can be a poem, a whisper, a scribble on the train. Example:
You, who has no form,who holds me anyway.You, who flows.You, who fights.You, who breathes in me – thank you for staying,even when I disappear.
Say it out loud. Or into your pillow. All is sacred.
4. Celebrate rituals of self-determination
Make rituals that affirm your becoming:
A coming-home ceremony instead of a coming-out
A new moon check-in with your younger self
A year-wheel where you are the goddess
A city walk where you ask a question – and let the streets answer
Holiness begins where you give yourself space to exist.
5. Allow yourself to be spiritual – without apology
Queer folks are often made to choose: identity or spirit. Church or freedom. Faith or self-worth. But you don’t have to choose.You can be faithful and furious.Magical and modern.Tender and fierce.You get to believe – in your way. Because your belief begins in you, not a book.
Your queer spirituality isn’t a phase. It’s a portal.
You’re Not Wrong – You’re Divine
The gods we honor, honor us back. And sometimes the holiest thing we can do is to celebrate our messy, radiant truth – not despite its defiance, but because of it.
Maybe you’ve never believed in a god. Maybe your spiritual path has been one long heartbreak. But maybe – just maybe – there is a deity out there (or within you) who sees you. Who doesn’t judge. Who dances. Laughs. Transforms. And whispers: You are enough. Just as you are. Always have been. You don’t need a priesthood to speak to the divine.You just need to breathe. Listen. Feel. And maybe sometimes whisper: I am sacred too. And wild. And enough. Maybe then, a voice will rise. From deep in your bones. Or from a fox’s shadow. Or from the chaos itself.And say: I am you. I always have been.









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