Born from Grief, Raised on Guts: The Story Behind Mind Your Queer Business

This isn’t a blueprint. It's a breadcrumb trail.

A few years ago, if you’d asked me what my life would look like now, I wouldn’t have said “entrepreneur running a business from home with a toddler climbing my back.”

I would’ve said “pregnant with our second.”

I would’ve said “mom.”

I might’ve said “creative,” if I was feeling brave—but I definitely wouldn’t have said “Founder,” and I sure as hell wouldn’t have said writing this.

But life doesn’t follow the plan. And neither did my body.

This blog—and the business behind it—was born from grief. Not the soft, reflective kind. The kind that takes you to your knees. The kind that breaks you down so thoroughly, you don’t know who you are without the ache.

This Wasn’t the Dream—But It’s Where Everything Started

In 2020, I got pregnant on our first try. We were doing the queer-at-home DIY method, and it worked.

I felt like a fucking unicorn.

Then I miscarried.

The grief hit like a wave I couldn’t outrun. After the miscarriage, we kept trying.

We were broke, exhausted, and out of options. Then, a close friend offered to be our donor.

Both my partner and I inseminated that same weekend. My partner—who never intended to carry got pregnant. I didn’t.

It set off a chain reaction I didn’t see coming. My eating disorder, which had been trailing me since I was sixteen, came roaring back.I restricted, I binged, I tried to stay upright.

I poured everything I had into supporting my partner and preparing for parenthood.

They were pregnant. I was not.

And all my carefully curated visions of queer motherhood were in pieces on the floor—

right next to my ovulation strips and abandoned affirmation cards.

I focused on becoming the kind of parent I could be, even if it wasn’t the one I imagined.

I love our son with everything I’ve got. He’s magic.

And still—there’s grief.There’s guilt. I didn’t carry him, and I wanted to.

That ache doesn’t cancel out the joy. It just... cohabitates.

Apparently I’ve Had ADHD My Whole Life. Cute, Right?

After my son was born, I finally got help for my eating disorder—because parenting has a way of shaking loose every unresolved issue you’ve ever shoved in a drawer.

A few months into recovery, I found out I also had ADHD.

The high-achieving, emotionally intelligent, deeply exhausted perfectionist with a secret shame spiral finally made sense. Very on brand.

I’d spent decades being the “quick learner” with the color-coded planner and the unspoken belief that falling apart was for other people.

But inside, only chaos.

Starting meds was like putting glasses on my brain for the first time.

Suddenly, things clicked. Tasks lined up. Noise turned down.

I could hear myself think—and I thought, “Oh. I want more than just surviving.”

I didn’t want to keep contorting myself into someone else’s version of capable. I didn’t want to perform okay-ness just to keep everyone else comfortable.

I wanted truth. Authenticity. A life that could finally live up to my non-conforming potential.

I wanted more honest conversations about the messy middle of business and motherhood and identity .I didn’t want to jump from cubicle to cubicle anymore. I wanted to build something for myself.

Turns Out I’m Better at Building Things Than Fitting Into Them

It started small—part-time marketing and branding support for a friend and former co-worker. That friend is still one of my best clients.

Over time, others found me. Not because I had a polished pitch, but because I got them.

Because I could hold both the strategy and the struggle.

Because I built my business the same way I live my life—

honestly, imperfectly, and with a lot of feelings.

Mind Your Queer Business isn’t just my brand. It’s my way of reclaiming visibility.

It’s the bridge between my calling to motherhood and my calling to entrepreneurship. It’s what I poured my grief into when I didn’t know what else to do.

And now, it’s yours too—if you want it.

If you’ve ever felt like you were too much for business as usual, too queer, too sensitive, too tired, too real—this space was made with you in mind.

---

About Amanda — the Entraprenotsure™ behind MYQB. I'm a queer, neurodivergent, recovering perfectionist who built a business out of grief, creativity, and way too many browser tabs. I’m not here to give you a one-size-fits-all formula. I’m here to help amplify your voice, your rhythm, and a way of showing up that feels like you.

I started Mind Your Queer Business for the misfits, the feelers, the overthinkers, and the creatively stubborn—especially those building empires in nap time increments. Around here, we build brands and marketing strategies that actually make sense for who you are, not who the internet told you to be.

If you’ve ever felt like entrepreneurship wasn’t built for someone like you, good news: you get to rebuild it.