A heartfelt reflection on why a LGBTQ+ Buddhist group is needed, not to divide Buddhists but to create a space of belonging and compassion for LGBTQ practitioners.
Three years ago, I started Rainbodhi SG, entrusted by Bhante Akaliko, as a spiritual friendship community for LGBTQ+ Buddhists, non-Buddhists, and anyone of faith or no faith at all who seeks belonging. Our intention was simple: to create a space where we could simply be. No hiding away our flamboyant, queer, loud demeanour. No need to tone it down to fit in. Just open hearts and shared journeys.
But what unfolded was so much more than that. Very quickly, I realized that within our rainbow community lived a vibrant mix of cultural identities, spiritual paths, gender expressions, and nationalities.
The vision felt simple back then, to create a space of true belonging, to gently free the timeless Dharma from the cultural prejudices that have clung to it, and to offer the warmth of Buddhist wisdom to our LGBTQ siblings who were confused, hurting, and searching for peace.
At that time, it felt simple. Just open a door, light a candle, and welcome everyone in. But as time went on, I came to see that this Dharma work asks for more than effort or intention; it asks for whole devotion.
Over the years, I have received many questions, some curious and others carrying the weight of doubt. “Why do you have to differentiate yourselves? Aren’t we all just Buddhists?” Another confused our group with another, shared feedback without attending any of our events, and said that LGBTQIA+ identity is merely another duality created by ego, and that it should be abolished in order to sustain peace in the Buddhist community.
This question holds a beautiful, idealistic truth. On the ultimate level, yes. We are all manifestations of the same boundless awareness, empty of separate, fixed selves. We all seek freedom from suffering. This is the profound ground of our being.
But we also live in a relative world, the world of form and feeling. A world where a female monastic still has to be separated from a male monastic. A world where I have been told, directly by a Buddhist, that Buddha never said it’s ok to be gay, and a “controversy” over whether a gay person can be ordained as a monk.
Buddhism has always adapted as it spread across the world. Thai Buddhism, Tibetan Buddhism, Japanese Buddhism, and many other cultural expressions exist because the Dharma met people where they were. To say that an LGBTQ+ Buddhist group is created by ego would also imply that all cultural forms of Buddhism are ego driven, which misses the heart of the teachings.
The Buddha offered the Dharma with flexibility, allowing people to retain their culture, language, and identity while walking the path of liberation. Nowhere did he ask us to erase ourselves in order to awaken.
It is in this world that my love, my being, and my belonging are still questioned.
And that hurts. It is not anger that rises in me, but a deep sadness, the ache of being unseen in the very space that taught me how to embrace our enemy with loving-kindness and compassion.
A Telegram Message That Terrifies Me
This year, with the dream of doing something groundbreaking, I decided to organize the first, one of a kind, Queer Buddhist Festival in Singapore.
To coordinate with participants, I set up a small Telegram group for updates and sharing. It was meant to be a safe, joyful space for community and celebration.
One evening, a message appeared from a participant I had not met. His tone was polite but heavy with suspicion. He asked why there is a need to have a “Queer Buddhist” group at all. He wondered if LGBTQ Buddhists were forcing a “wokeness agenda” into Buddhism or if being Queer was the result of trauma, something that still needed “more studies” or “proof” to be fixed.
He went on to say that LGBTQ Buddhists seemed angry, defensive, and ready to start a war, that perhaps I was trying to create a kind of “Rainbow Buddhism” separate from Buddhism.
Here was someone who claimed to be a heterosexual practicing Buddhist, someone who studies the same sutras and bows to the same Buddha as me, whose mind had been shaped by the very fear and separation the Dharma seeks to dissolve.
The thought that this is what he perceived LGBTQ+ people as, angry, war-like, agenda-driven terrifies me. It reminded me of when I was a child and was bullied, I did not get angry. I was afraid to go to school. That’s exactly why so many in the LGBTQ+ community suffer — the weight of judgment, the quiet repression of being told we’re not normal, the trembling fear of coming out, of being excluded, of being left behind by the very people we love. For so many of us, we are more fearful than angered. It is not about launching a war with the heterosexual people.
Almost 90% of the people I cherish and love are heterosexual. How could I possibly have a war with them? We live in an interdependent world where none of us can survive on our own. Our lives are held together by countless unseen hands, from the labour of a trafficked child to the compassion of a gay lawyer and the dedication of a bisexual oncologist. When we pause to see how deeply our lives are woven together, it becomes difficult to stand against one another, knowing that our very existence depends on this shared web of humanity.
The LGBTQ+ people are not asking for a battle. We are asking for a bench, a seat at the table, a voice to be heard in the conversation.
What people often call “controversial” or “complicated” about LGBTQIA+ inclusion is, in a Buddhist view, deeply simple: are we seeing each being’s Buddha nature? Or are we getting caught in our own aversion, clinging, or delusion?
When I first came out as a gay Buddhist in the temples and Buddhist organisations, I didn’t want special treatment. I wanted to be seen clearly. Not as an “issue” to be solved, but as a human being with full access to awakening.
That’s what the Buddha taught, wasn’t it? Not the path for some but for all. He didn’t say, “Awaken, but only if you check these boxes.”
As Zen teacher Norman Fischer once put it, “Buddhism doesn’t ask you to stop being who you are, it asks you to go so deeply into who you are that you transcend every limitation.”
We dismantle these barriers not by ignoring difference, but by recognizing the potential awakening of everyone in it. By sitting with the full humanity and Buddha nature of every being. That’s not just inclusion. That’s the right view.
When we embody the Four Immeasurables and see others through the lens of their own boundless potential, the old judgments start to dissolve. As for those uncomfortable glances or hushed judgments. I see them now as invitations. Invitations for an open dialogue, return to what I’ve been taught and put dharma into practice. To see the difference but yet recognize we are all suffering, and compassion is the only way to bring us together.
Speak with Compassion, Not in Defense
When I finally took a moment to reflect on his response and allowed my overwhelming feelings to subside, I found the clarity to reply with compassion instead of defense. I explained that while people can debate endlessly about why someone is born LGBTQ+, such discussions do not heal the suffering caused by stigma or rejection.
As Buddhists, our goal is not to win arguments or gather data. It is to understand suffering and reduce it wherever it appears.
No scientific theory or psychological debate will ever explain away the pain of isolation, discrimination, or violence that LGBTQ people experience. The Buddha didn’t wait for data to practice and teach compassion. He saw suffering and responded. That’s it.
If we need data, then let us look at the heartbreaking numbers; the increasing suicide rates among queer youth, the harsh violence against transgender individuals, the mental health struggles faced by those rejected by their families or communities. These are not abstract issues. They are the very data of dukkha, the living evidence of suffering that the Buddha called us to respond to with compassion.
That is why one of my deepest hopes for Rainbodhi SG is to bring Buddhist psychology into the mainstream, to help LGBTQ individuals find healing through mindfulness, compassion, and inner refuge.
Think of a Buddhist who is deeply eco-conscious and vegetarian, striving to live by the First Precept of non-harming. They might be seen as “too extreme” or “too idealistic.” Some may even say, “We are all Buddhists; why must you be different?” When we speak up for what the heart knows to be compassionate, we risk being labeled.
But their intention is not to divide. It is to remind others of compassion, to deepen practice, and to live more consciously.
When Venerable Ananda appealed to the Buddha to ordain women, it was a compassionate act to widen the gates of the Sangha. The 500 women, including the Buddha’s own foster mother, Mahaprajapati Gotami, asked not for special treatment, but for simple acceptance. They wished to practice the Dharma with the same devotion and intensity as the monks, breaking the stereotypes of their time to prove a core tenet of the Buddha’s teaching: that Buddha Nature is inherent in all sentient beings.
Just as their request transcended the gender constructs of their era, the call for LGBTQ inclusion today transcends modern constructs of sexuality and gender identity. It is the same plea: not for a separate path, but for the right to walk the same path toward liberation. The Dharma does not distinguish between male, female, or any other identity; it sees only the potential for awakening in every heart. True inclusivity honors this profound truth, breaking down all artificial barriers to ensure the Sangha is a refuge for all who seek freedom from suffering.
This is not so different from what we, as LGBTQ Buddhists, long for. To live truthfully, to love fully, and to walk the Dharma path without hiding parts of who we are.
Like the disabled Buddhists seeking accessibility in temples, or single mothers yearning for understanding within family-oriented Sanghas, we too wish to be heard and seen.
We speak up not to separate, but to let you know our existence, to build a bridge, to learn from one another’s pain and suffering, and to mutually inspire one another in the name of our Dharma practice.
Why Rainbodhi SG Matters
Rainbodhi SG is not about dividing Buddhists into “gay” and “straight.” It is about acknowledging that we each carry unique conditions, stories, and wounds, and that true refuge must include them all.
We just want to walk into a temple and know we are safe and not to be misjudged. To sit in meditation without wondering if someone nearby is questioning our sexuality because we are flamboyant.
We are not asking for special treatment. We are asking for understanding.
When the monk gives a Dharma talk addressing marriage and family, please remember us too, those who cannot legally marry in many places, who may never have children, yet who pour our hearts into being the most loving uncles, aunties, and mentors we can be.
We are not angry. We are just asking to belong.
The Heart of It All
At the end of the day, Rainbodhi SG exists for one simple reason: to reduce suffering.
To create a space where no one has to leave a part of themselves behind at the temple door.
To remind us all that compassion has no conditions, and that Buddhist practice, at its heart, is about holding each other’s humanity with tenderness.
Because that is what the Buddha taught, to meet suffering not with judgment, but with compassion.
So perhaps the question is not “Why differentiate?”
Maybe the question is: If we refuse to see differences, can we ever truly understand each other and know how we are truly part of this interdependent world? Are we able to see how connected our differences are bridging through one another’s Dukkha?
Because acknowledging difference is not an act of division but an act of love. It allows compassion to flow where silence once stood.
And maybe that is precisely why Rainbodhi SG needs to exist. Because people like the participant who messaged me in the Telegram chat still need a space for dialogue, a chance to listen and be listened to, to understand that all beings deserve to be seen, especially when suffering arises.
To leave no one behind, and to leave no mind behind.
I’ll end with this sutta, as a gentle reminder to myself and a way to reaffirm and strengthen my intention.
Snp 3.3 Subhāsitasutta: Well-Spoken Words
So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. There the Buddha addressed the mendicants, “Mendicants!” “Venerable sir,” they replied. The Buddha said this:
“Mendicants, speech that has four factors is well spoken, not poorly spoken. It’s blameless and is not criticized by sensible people. What four? It’s when a mendicant speaks well, not poorly; they speak on the teaching, not against the teaching; they speak pleasantly, not unpleasantly; and they speak truthfully, not falsely. Speech with these four factors is well spoken, not poorly spoken. It’s blameless and is not criticized by sensible people.” That is what the Buddha said. Then the Holy One, the Teacher, went on to say:
“Good people say well-spoken words are foremost;
second, speak on the teaching, not against it;
third, speak pleasantly, not unpleasantly;
and fourth, speak truthfully, not falsely.”
Then Venerable Vaṅgīsa got up from his seat, arranged his robe over one shoulder, raised his joined palms toward the Buddha, and said, “I feel inspired to speak, Blessed One! I feel inspired to speak, Holy One!” “Then speak as you feel inspired,” said the Buddha. Then Vaṅgīsa extolled the Buddha in his presence with fitting verses:
“Speak only such words
that do not hurt yourself
nor harm others;
such speech is truly well spoken.Speak only pleasing words,
words gladly welcomed.
Pleasing words are those
that bring nothing bad to others.Truth itself is the undying word:
this is an eternal truth.
Good people say that the teaching and its meaning
are grounded in the truth.The words spoken by the Buddha
for realizing the sanctuary, extinguishment,
for the attainment of vision,
this really is the best kind of speech.”