Q&A

My personal description: Rebel In Venus is a coming-of-age story, about a woman who is realizing she can no longer outrun herself, and it’s also a platonic love-story, and a testament to friendship.

Rebel in Venus is categorized as a novel, yet it seems very personal - would you say it is semi-autobiographical?

Yeah, that’s pretty accurate. I’ve always been the type of artist to draw inspiration from my own life. Even as a choreographer, there have always been clear parallels in the art I make, to what is happening in my own life. When both of my grandmothers passed from Alzheimer’s, I created a show called Flowers… because I would bring them flowers in their final years, and it was the last thing that jolted their memories in the end. Or the show Cask, inspired by the murderous short story, “Cask of Amontillado” by Edgar Allen Poe… which I created, while in the height of one of my most abusive romantic relationships. I mean, art has been my therapist, and saved my life… more than once. So yes, A LOT of my own life experiences, as Marissa, are most defiantly present in Layla’s story… in Rebel In Venus.

Which detail were you most apprehensive to share? Why?

Being a sex-worker, and the abortion. Claiming, and owning that you are or were a sex-worker is not trending. So that took some deep breathing. I mean bullying anyone about anything is next level these days… thanks to our incredibly determined thumbs.

Yet, despite my fears of some people “coming for me”, it was imperative that I did write sex-work into Layla’s journey of selfdiscovery, because I wanted to write about that line of work, and that environment from a very specific point of view. The entire book is not about sex-work, but there is a portion and time in Layla’s life when she embarks in that world. And it was important to me, given the rest of the subject matter, that the world and its other workers were written about with a certain amount of care, humanity, nuance, empathy… and even respect. And I felt I was equipped to do this, because I have been a sex-worker, and some of closest friends still work in the industry today.

On the other hand, the abortion portion made me apprehensive because I was writing this book while living in Florida. And well… I got my own abortion in Florida, right before the ban. So, abortion anything… and declaring the choice to have one, and even feeling not guilty, or hung up on it… is even more radical, because… yeah… again, its 2023 and it’s a terrifying climate for abortions, and the right for women, and trans people to make a legal choice about their body. In fact, I predict this book could get banned in certain states, and at certain schools… because of the current abortion political climate. And that, is a wild thought to be having, while writing a book in America… predominately for, Americans. Free speech is an interesting topic these days, right?

The book does a really great job of laying out very contemporary topics such as mental health, sexual harassment, and self-acceptance. What do you think needs to change about the way we approach all these issues in America?

Thank you, that means a lot because those are the intended themes, and topics in the book. Also, answering that questions feels like a lot of responsibility, so I want to be careful…

I think we need to listen more. Care about the needs, and experiences of others because we’re forgetting about the ripple effect, we all have on each other, especially when we stop listening.

I think we need to remove the filter and stop presenting to each other.

I think we need to hang out in person more, but for reasons beyond going to a party, taking photos, or escaping.

I think we need to learn how to ask each other “How are you?” - and stop responding with “I’m fine.”, especially when we’re not at all fine.

I think a lot of us are scared to feel like a burden, and we’re not talking about what we need to talk about… like: “How are you feeling?” - “What do you need to make it through today?”- “Are you okay?”

I think we need to learn to be okay to say out loud: “I am not okay. Can you help me? Please.”

And when someone says that we need to learn better how to respond with compassion.

I think we need to re-brand ourselves on a human-to-human level.

We need to embrace the strength in creating bold, honest, and vulnerable relationships with others, and really make time for others… especially when it has nothing to do with money.

I mean, we as American’s are capitalists, and so naturally we all lean a little word self-serving.

So, I think we can afford do a little more of the opposite.

I say all this because there are so many systemic issues, beyond our own individual control, and I personally battle with feeling hopeless, and despondent about the things hurting other humans, and our earth… that I can’t directly help, the way I’d like to. So, I turn to the power that is in each of us. Our human connection. I think we are all pretending to be a little “too perfect” right now, because I think we (myself very included) are scared to admit… that we aren’t really that okay. And I think that unrealistic pressure is creating a disconnect from each other, and that … we each have the power to change.

In 2019 you premiered the show Rebel in Venus. Then in 2023 you’re publishing the book. Can you walk me through what happened to get you from one to the other?

It was not planned. I didn’t even plan to veer out of my lane of dancer/choreographer…

In October of 2019, I premiered a show I had been working on called Rebel In Venus. It was inspired by the #metoo movement, and the memories I was starting to recall from my own sexual childhood abuse. Then a few months later, in December of 2019 (while performing), my right meniscus tore, and required an emergency surgery (where I was told I’d be in crutches, and non-weight baring, for three months). Then a couple weeks later, on January 1, my best friend committed suicide. That, plus the death of my own naive belief that my body was invisible… just took me out. My world was upside down, and a couple months later, because of the pandemic, the worlds world was upside down, too. To be honest, I was sinking into my darkest days, while I wrote this book. I even was actively in therapy for CPTSD , while I wrote this book. So, I started writing because I had to. I needed to give myself a purpose, or I was going to kill myself… and I’m not saying that hyperbolically, I’m saying that quite literally. So, for three years, I kept on writing, and the more Layla’s the story crystalized… that’s when I really realized this was really Rebel In Venus, in novel form. So, I gave the title of my show, to my book.

Why was it important for you to write this book?

After I lost my best-friend to suicide, I almost lost myself the same way. And honestly, representation matters… even the representation of someone living with shame. The shame of depression, the shame of being abused, the shame of feeling like something is wrong with you, just because you exist… so much shame. I know that my best friend, and I weren’t and aren’t the only ones living with the weight of it. So, it became important that I wrote a book that gives a voice to those people, my people. And in hopes that, by seeing themselves in this newly fashioned hero, the readers feel empowered, visible, and know that they are not a burden.

As a LGBTQ+ author, in what way is this book the best vessel for self-understanding and articulating feelings part of your queer experience? Well I did not want the book to read as though Layla is queer, because she’s been sexually abused. I always found that argument dismissive of both of my own personal experiences with being queer, and a survivor of abuse. One has nothing to do with other. They never have, and they never will. So that was something I hope was translated in the book.

Also, I really wanted to display that queer people, can, and do, have healthy non-sexual relationships, ones that have nothing to do with sex. I’m talking about the friendship between Layla, and her best friend Maria. And I mean, I love sex! But representation matters… and there are still few stories in mainstream media about queer people, without their queer sex-lives being the driving force of the narrative. Though I love, very much love those stories, I’m also curious about the other dimension of those human beings. And what