I have just returned from Athens where I had the privilege of representing Intersex Ireland at the OII Europe Community Event. It was a gathering of activists, researchers, artists, funders, and old friends from across the continent. Athens was loud and dusty, chaotic and queer, ancient and perfect. I am still buzzing.
Standing in the room as Intersex Ireland
There are moments in this work when everything stops for a second and I realise what is happening. Standing in a packed hotel conference room on a busy Athenian street, as a representative of an intersex led organisation from Ireland, was one of those moments.
We are not funded. We are volunteer run. Yet we are present in EU conversations. We meet with funders. We speak at conferences. We talk to legislators. We turn the tide in a country that has tried to silence intersex realities for decades.
None of this is small.
Introducing BOOBS
My contribution to the conference was to introduce the documentary BOOBS. It is a radical, tender, rebellious film that I am part of. I stood in front of intersex people, parents, clinicians, activists, and allies and spoke for five minutes about shame, art, visibility, and Ireland.
I told the story of how it began with a woman on Liveline talking about painting one hundred portraits of breasts. How she was asked the tired question, what if a trans woman applied. How she refused to exclude anyone. How that moment of courage led to me sending a photograph of my own Breasts, full of ambivalence and pride. How several of us ended up sitting in a Dublin living room, topless, being filmed and painted and laughing like teenagers at a sleepover.
BOOBS is funny. It is emotional. It is defiantly feminist.
In Athens it was received with warmth, applause, and curiosity. People told me how moving it was to see intersex bodies included in a film about women and belonging, rather than in medical slides and textbooks. That meant everything.
Funders, finally face to face
One of the most important parts of the event was the session between funders and intersex organisations. We sat at small tables, rotating every fifteen minutes. It felt like queer speed dating for human rights.
I spoke with Merel from Mama Cash, Erin from Astraea Foundation, and others.
My pitch was simple. Intersex Ireland has no funding. We carry the national workload. Demand for support is growing faster than we can cope with.
We do everything larger and funded organisations should be doing:
- clinical guidelines
- legislative consultation
- family support
- training
- media
- public speaking
- advocacy
We do it voluntarily, on top of day jobs and childcare. If we do not do it, it does not get done.
The response was encouraging. No promises. Funding is never simple. But there was respect, warmth, and genuine interest. Sometimes that is how change begins.
Old friends and new connections
There were so many encounters. Coffee. Wine. Late night street food in Omonia Square. I met activists I have admired for years. I met new allies from Greece, Bulgaria, Italy, Spain, Turkey, Germany, the Canary Islands and beyond.
We shared strategy. We shared frustration. We laughed about bureaucracy. We cried about young people being excluded from sport and healthcare.
People recognised me from Vilnius, Berlin, Strasbourg. Funders I had only ever emailed became real people. I hugged strangers who turned out not to be strangers at all.
This is movement building. Messy. Emotional. Very human. Full of laughter and rage.
Ireland in the European context
Athens made something very clear. Ireland is behind. We are friendly but not yet safe.
There are still:
- no bans on non consensual surgeries
- no dedicated adult clinical pathway
- no funding for intersex organisations
- no national awareness campaign
- no meaningful data
Yet we move forward.
We have:
- meetings with TDs
- draft legislation
- engagement with Children’s Health Ireland
- an active presence in EU networks
- the trust of our community
We are the ones people call when they need intersex expertise. That is an honour and a heavy responsibility.
What I brought home
I left Athens exhausted, emotional, and wide open. I left with business cards, invitations, WhatsApp groups full of activists, offers of collaboration, and a stronger sense of purpose.
What stays with me most is this:
When intersex people gather, something shifts.
When we are visible, something cracks.
When we speak, something moves.
A small organisation at a tipping point
Intersex Ireland is at a crucial moment. We need modest funding and one part time coordinator. We do not need millions. We need breathing room to continue the work.
Athens reminded me that we are not alone. People see us. They value us. They want us to succeed.
Boobs, activism, and belonging
Introducing BOOBS at an intersex conference felt symbolic. A film about bodies, shame, pride, and rebellion, introduced by an intersex woman in a city where bodies have been painted, sculpted, and judged for thousands of years.
It felt right. It felt joyful. It reminded me why we do this. Not for respectability. For dignity. Not to be smaller. To take up space.
Here we are. Intersex. Irish. European. Unapologetic.
Athens was not an ending. It was the beginning of the next chapter. And I am ready.