Life & Work with Jessica Lin of Los Angeles, California

Today we’d like to introduce you to Jessica Lin.

Hi Jessica, thanks for joining us today. We’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
Born and raised in Los Angeles, I’ve been hosting social events since I was a kid and I’ve carried that spirit through junior high, high school, college, and now as an adult. I started Queer Friendly Fun in LA because I saw a genuine need for more ways to connect, especially beyond the usual late-night bar or club scene. I wanted there to be more — more options, more balance, more joy — spaces where people could show up exactly as they are and enjoy themselves without having to fit a mold of what fun “should” look like.

As a queer and disabled Asian American woman and a child of immigrants, representation has always mattered to me. Too often, social events — even those meant for community — are hosted by straight and non-disabled white folks who simply don’t see the layers of safety, access, and comfort that others need to feel welcome. I’ve been in spaces where bullying, microaggressions, and harassment were blatantly ignored by hosts and that’s not acceptable. As the founder of Queer Friendly Fun in LA, I prioritize diversity and inclusiveness.

From the very first gatherings, the intention was clear: to build something anti the “boys’ club” dynamic that so often sidelines women, femmes, trans, and non-binary folks. I and so many people I know have been preyed upon, harassed, or made uncomfortable at other events, and I wanted to help build something that refused to normalize that. I wanted people who’ve been overlooked, dismissed, or talked over to feel not only safe but celebrated — to be able to bring their full selves, speak freely, and know that the person hosting the event truly has their back.

Queer Friendly Fun in LA grew from that same love of connection — a desire to create spaces that are inclusive, playful, and genuinely affirming. I’m proudly sex-positive and kink-positive, and I believe we can hold those values in spaces that are gentle, creative, and wholesome at the same time. Joy and consent can coexist with silliness and comfort; curiosity can exist without performance. My love for LA is tied to its people — the artists, the activists, the everyday folks trying to belong somewhere safe and fun. I believe there’s strength in choice, and in the freedom to socialize on your own terms without compromising your safety or your authentic self.

I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
Running Queer Friendly Fun in LA has been deeply rewarding, but it also comes with real challenges. One of the hardest has been managing expectations from people who love the idea of community but don’t always recognize what it takes to sustain it. I often hear requests for specific event types or locations from people who aren’t willing to help make them happen. I always encourage folks to create the kinds of events they want to see — to put their own spin on things and shape the community in ways that reflect their interests, values, and creativity. It’s been a balancing act to stay compassionate while also holding boundaries, reminding folks that community is something we co-create together.

When people question why some events have a cost, I try to make it a conversation. I explain that every gathering — even the most casual — carries hidden expenses. I pay for tools like Eventbrite, Canva, Zoom, Calendly, and Google Photos, to name a few. There are also marketing costs, printing, and insurance that come straight out of pocket. I don’t have grants or outside funding like larger organizations do — I’ve applied for a few, but those processes take significant time and energy, and so far I haven’t received one. Still, I do everything I can to keep things accessible — offering free and sliding-scale events, encouraging others to host their own, and seeking sponsorships whenever possible.

On top of that, I try to collaborate with other organizations, artists, and small businesses to help uplift their work — at times co-hosting gatherings that celebrate our shared values. These collaborations can take not just weeks or months, but sometimes literal years of relationship-building, mutual trust, and logistical planning. Finding a venue is similarly complicated — I prioritize spaces that are accessible, have vegan and gluten-free food options, offer free parking, and include sober drink choices if it’s a bar or brewery. Those values guide my decisions as much as possible within real-world constraints. It can be disheartening when folks forget that I’m a single individual, not a team, doing my best within the same systems we’re all navigating.

Doing most of the work myself has also been both empowering and exhausting. I’ve had wonderful volunteers, but I’ve also experienced disappointment when people sign up to help and then disappear, or attend only to enjoy the event rather than contribute. I try to handle these moments with grace — to recognize that burnout, inexperience, or fear of responsibility can all play a part — while still maintaining standards that keep things running smoothly. It’s taught me to create clearer systems, better communication, and to celebrate the folks who do show up and follow through.

On top of that, I live with multiple chronic conditions, including fibromyalgia, chronic bronchitis, scoliosis, depression, anxiety, and other ongoing health issues that impact my daily life. There are days when my pain levels are high, but I still need to show up because there’s no one to fill in, and people are counting on me. I’m literally one person hosting events that collectively reach tens of thousands of people each year, and yet I still try to remember attendees’ names, pronouns, and preferences because I want people to feel seen and heard. I want to shout out to those who are working hard behind the scenes to make this world a little less lonely and a little more joyful.

As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
Queer Friendly Fun in LA (QFFL) is unique because it offers events that are more accessible than most. I’ve had folks with ADHD and autism express relief that these gatherings are quieter and less crowded. People without cars or who live farther away like that the venues are reachable by bus/metro. Those who are sober or in recovery appreciate that they can have fun without substances here. QFFL welcomes a diverse range of people from all walks of life.

For Queer Board Games, I rotate through 50 or so options for fun and variety. During the event, I explain game rules and answer questions so that participants can enjoy games with ease. This hangout is also a great chance to try different games and many seek out their own copies afterwards. Sometimes people confide in me that they’re not confident about their skills; I reassure them that we carve out space for both beginners and enthusiasts. Those who aren’t wild about tabletop games still end up having a good time.

Connect with Nature: Intro to Foraging brings that same energy outdoors. In this two-hour workshop, I lead a guided meditation, teach students how to identify edible plants and fungi, and facilitate conversation among everyone. That’s why I focus less on talking *at* people and more on opening up dialogue. Equally important, I make sure to discuss the racism and sexism embedded within such topics. Rather than a dry academic lecture though, this one-of-a-kind experience shines as an exploration of our lovely little planet. It’s the event I’m best known for.

Then there’s the Silent BIPOC Book Club, where we exclusively read material written by Black, Indigenous, and People of Color to uplift marginalized voices. No assigned reading, no prep — all you have to do is read (books, zines, comics, essays, whatever) together in companionable silence. We sip smoothies, eat dinner, and take breaks to chat and get to know each other. Recently, I’ve even partnered with the LA Public Library to give out free books, tote bags, and stickers. This monthly gathering is peaceful, chill, and quietly powerful — rest as resistance.

In addition, I’ve hosted kink- and sex-positive panels, polyamory socials, and speed friending— all built around consent, openness, and curiosity. Lots of folks end up finding new friends, dates, and even long-term partners through Queer Friendly Fun in LA. It’s super fulfilling to see people post their hangouts and dates after meeting. At a speed dating event, two people hit it off so well that they were making out by the end of it. Another attendee ended up hiring a dog trainer she met at my foraging workshop. Yet another two started dating and attended a wedding together. There are many more stories — plenty I’ll never hear about — but I’m grateful people are having fun and building genuine connections.

What matters most to you? Why?
What matters to me is kindness — the kind that shows up in small, tangible ways. Listening without rushing to respond. Letting people take up space without apologizing for it. Making things easier for someone else, even when it takes a little extra effort. I care about treating people gently in a world that often rewards the opposite.

Safety also matters to me. I believe people deserve to feel safe being who they are, especially in queer spaces. That means setting boundaries and enforcing them when needed. I’ve kicked out one or two people for inappropriate behavior before, and I’m willing to step in if someone crosses a line or makes others uncomfortable — especially when someone asks for help. Protecting the vibe isn’t about control; it’s about care.

I think about broader safety too — not just in a room, but in the world we live in. Queer and trans people face daily challenges, from microaggressions about pronouns to systems that actively harm our communities. Even beyond that, I can’t ignore the larger injustices happening around us, like how our tax dollars are funding violence in Palestine. It all connects back to how we treat people and whose humanity we value.

At the end of the day, I care about building spaces and conversations that make people feel less alone and more seen — where joy and justice can exist side by side.

Pricing:

• Queer Board Games (event): $10+
• Foraging Workshop (event): $33+
• Silent BIPOC Book Club (event): $7+
• 1:1 Virtual Coaching: $60+

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.eventbrite.com/o/queer-friendly-fun-events-near-me-in-la-17009284329
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/queerfriendlyfuninla/
• Other: https://linktr.ee/queerfriendlyfuninla

Image Credits
Jessica Lin, Vivian Aquino, Aaricka Washington