Cynthia Jimenez

Cynthia Jimenez. Posted Nov 12, 2025.

Theresa Hayes is sipping her iced almond milk latte, smiling slightly. “I really like the idea of queer people taking over certain spaces that were originally not meant for them,” she says. She gazes off to the side as if imagining what this queer invasion might look like. Something about her smile confirms what we both already know, that in a way, this invasion has already begun.

Theresa has been working to carve out a dedicated space for Sapphic people in the city she grew up in. Sapphic is an umbrella term which typically describes women who are attracted to women or “woman-aligned individuals.” However, the term can also be understood in a more gender-expansive way to include transgender people such as “transmasc, femmes and non-binary folks..”

The Sapphire 519 Instagram posted a story post that read “if you resonate with [Sapphic], then this account for you!!!”

As a self-proclaimed London, Ontario apologist, Theresa is loyal to this city. While dismayed with those who dismiss it — “[They] are in my home right now and telling me the carpet is the wrong colour” —Theresa also shares how she recognizes the way London has failed to be a place where Sapphic people might find community and thrive. There is an admittance that this city isn’t made for people like her, like us. 

Nearly a year ago, Theresa made the Sapphire 519 Instagram account. This account became the hub for her organization, dedicated to creating community amongst Sapphics in London, Ontario. The account began as a meme account and a platform for sharing queer events and resouces in

London. Now, Sapphire, an online space that is marked by joy and warmth, has become so much
more.

Since January, while finishing her undergraduate degree at Western University, she has hosted
four events and amassed over 1,000 followers on Instagram. Justice Bekke, a queer photographer
who has covered Sapphire’s events, said that “I offered my services once I saw the safe and
amazing sense of community [Theresa] had conjured.” Others, like Bekke, have flocked to
Theresa and Sapphire. As can be seen in the accounts' introductory posts’ comment section.

Now seated in a favourite local coffee shop of hers, Twins Cafe, Theresa is modest about her
ideas and what the beginnings of Sapphire looked like. The cafe is mostly empty; it’s an early
Sunday morning. She claims it started off very much just as a “vibes thing” and jokingly does a
shaka sign.

At the beginning of our meeting, Theresa tends not to meet my gaze. She seems to downplay her
achievements and even admits that she has “trouble being proud of things that I do because I
always underrate myself a little bit.” When uncertain about an answer or pausing to think, she
plays with her jewelry: a silver locket that sits at her collarbone and this thin silver ring on her
right ring finger.

When asked about what prompted her to actually start Sapphire, she pointed to three things.
First, she commented on a well-known issue within the queer community, “I feel like [queer]
spaces often are dominated by cis gay men and especially older white cis gay men.” Second,
after the boycotting of The Well last year, a gay bar which faced allegations of sexual assault,
London’s queer spaces were dwindling. And third, her disappointment in the few times others
have tried to host Sapphic-centred events in London.

She recounted how last November the London Music Hall had a Sapphic Night, which was
hosted by a touring event company. “We were so excited because it was the only Sapphic-specific event in London that I had ever known about.” She pauses, her face contorted, trying not
to laugh, “But it was just… kind of not great. It was a cash grab,” she laughed, grimacing a little.
“It was like they didn't even have a DJ.”

It was then she decided, “this is not what we need to settle for in terms of Sapphic-oriented
events.”

Though Theresa made the definite decision to start Sapphire in January it appears that Theresa
had been dreaming and musing about the possibility of Sapphire for quite some time before then.
Lucas Kettle, Theresa's friend of three years, shares that there was an initial meeting at a public
library to talk about the idea that would become Sapphire. Theresa then came to them a week
after to talk through her ideas. Lucas, amazed at Theresa’s work, recounted proudly that “she
already had the idea by the time she wanted to bounce the idea off of me. She had so much of the
logistics thought out. She had made a bunch of memes about London, Ontario, localized humour
but with a Sapphic perspective that you don’t really find in a lot of hegemonic spaces.”

Theresa’s first and biggest event, Sapphic Invasion, she shares, was made possible through the
help of MAGICAL 519, a community collective which focused on hosting LGBTQ+ gatherings
that were inclusive and diverse. Funded by the London Community Foundation’s Community
Vitality Grant, MAGICAL offered a mentorship program for those with goals to this type of
work but don’t necessarily know where to start to be able to do it. Donovan Trice, the leading
force behind MAGICAL, shares how Theresa “didn't have too much experience with event
coordination but had really clear ideas for what it is that she wanted to see happen.”

Theresa smiles as she recalls the process of planning the event. “I had this idea to individually
paint a bunch of beads.” A pause, she twists her green and white paper straw under her pointer
finger and thumb.“Like, the night before the event, I was trying to explain my idea to my one
friend. And she was like, girl, you can't do that. And I was like, are you sure?” The idea for
individually painted beads was not materialized, but Sapphic Invasion was a success nonetheless.

The event held at Honey Dip Bar and Dough EV had a line out the door for most of the night.
Soleil Marshall, another of Theresa’s friends who helped set up, recalls the event fondly. “Once
the party actually started, it was just so wonderful because I'd heard so many people talking
about it for weeks and being so excited.”

From the street, you could see the flash of lights. The bar was transformed through Theresa’s
creative efforts: glow-in-the-dark stars —“the ones you see in kids’ bedrooms” — hung on the
walls, silver streamers strewn throughout the room, posters of collages cut and glued together.
But beyond the decorations, the event was filled with something a little less tangible: hope.
“Since attending these events, I’ve felt more comfortable in my own skin knowing there is such a
big community around me,” shared Bekke.

The future of Sapphire, however, is now shrouded in some uncertainty.

At the moment, Theresa is considering hiring a team to help continue her work with Sapphire.
Theresa has quickly learned that event planning is not a one-person job. She insists that, “I love
Sapphire. I love being a person in the community, but I need this to be sustainable for me.”

Theresa also mentions that with the end of MAGICAL, she no longer has money, as given by
their grant, to do large-scale event planning. ”Once you start having events, people kind of expect
you to have more.” Her events outside of the Sapphic Invasion were intentionally held in public
spaces like Gibbons Park that don’t need rental fees. Now with the cold winter settling in, free
event spaces are a little more limited. She worries, “What if I can't really give people what they
want?”

It takes a couple questions and half an iced almond milk latte for Theresa to begin cracking
jokes. She’s a little more hesitant about personal questions, but when it comes to Sapphire, she’s
more than happy to share.

Theresa tends to ramble. She makes connections in her head faster than I can write them down
and she can fully articulate. But amidst the tangents and circling back, one can see at its core the
love she carries for Sapphire and the aim behind it. The same love and passion Lucas saw from
their first conversation.

“Sapphire is absolutely Theresa’s mind child, brain child. It's very close to her.”

When asked about the logistics of event planning and the responsibility she has carried out, she
touches that silver ring again, and insists that “anybody could have done that. And really the
thing with event planning that people don't really know is anybody could do it. Honestly, you just
kind of have to decide that you're going to do it.”
What perhaps Theresa fails to realize is that very few people do make that decision, much less
follow through with it to the extent that Sapphire has.

Most recently, capitalizing on an internet trend, Theresa held a performative masc contest and a
performative femme contest. These are the lesbian twist on the “performative male contest”
where participants strut and perform as these newly emerged internet archetypes. Theresa details
how viewers of the contest were sprawled on blankets in the grass. Femmes showed up with their
poetry books, pink skirts and labubu’s while the mascs were decked out in carabiners, tape
measures and — before she could finish her thought, someone at a nearby table interjects.

“Wait, I heard performative masc contest, if you’re running that, I would wanna come.” A girl at
the table behind us has perked up and turned around, she is gripping the back of her seat to twist
and get a better look at Theresa. The girl's eyes are wide and she smiles excitedly at the prospect
of attending one of these contests.

Surprised and now giggling, Theresa explains that the events had already passed. Nevertheless,
the girl gushes about how cool that is and asks how it went. Hand on her silver locket, this time
twisting the chain around her finger, Theresa explains happily that it went great; people in the
community had even donated prizes for the contest. The girl, with her inquiry now satisfied,
turns back around to her laptop and coffee.

Moments like these show how important the work Theresa is doing for the Sapphic community
in London. These events, while seemingly silly and light-hearted, are needed to bring people
together and act as spaces where Sapphics can feel safe and seen. Bekke underlines how these
events also work to support queer art and culture.
But the work Theresa has been doing also has come with a set of challenges that she hadn’t
foreseen.

“I've been learning about navigating sort of like boundaries between me and people in the
community when I've been organizing. Because I've had a lot of people pushing boundaries for
me and kind of being parasocial.”

When asked to elaborate on the subject, Theresa pauses. She has a slight frown, she watches the
floor intently with pursed lips as if the tiled floor might offer her clarity. She explains that some
people have been overstepping and acting as close friends with her. One person had even been
“trauma dumping” in her DMs.

Kettler offered to shed some light on the situation. “[Theresa] is perceived in a fundamentally
different way.” They also pause to think about their answer, “People paradoxically view her with
distance because more people see her but quickly interpret what little they know about her to be
closeness, especially because she’s building a space for community in an already marginalized
space.”

Theresa doesn’t plan on publicly addressing these concerns and instead has opted not to engage
with the few people who have chosen to act in this manner. Theresa worries that addressing
something like this might disrupt the community she has created with Sapphire. She stares off
again and brings her hands to her shoulders, hugging herself, “ I think a big part of why Sapphire
has done so well is like people kind of know me in the community and I feel like I'm somebody
that can be approached.”

It’s not hard to imagine how or why some of these assumingly well-intentioned but ultimately
misguided people might be drawn to Theresa in this way. Warmly, in a separate interview, Trice
says that “Theresa is a very uniquely vibrant person. She comes into spaces with, I think, a very
clearly developed sense of self and a consistent level of authenticity.”
Towards the end of this coffee meeting, that iced almond milk latte is long gone and Theresa’s
face has become slightly flushed after keenly talking about Sapphire.

While there is a lot of uncertainity about the specific details and next steps for Theresa and
Sapphire, one thing remains clear: At the heart of Sapphire is a girl who is willing to try and fight
for a community she loves. She leaves our conversation to go study for a midterm she claimed
when we first sat down was “future Theresa’s problem.”

But more importantly, she leaves our conversation hopeful and adamant about continuing
Sapphire.

There is this distinct feeling I am left with that the Sapphics in London haven’t invaded as
Theresa joked about earlier. Rather, they have always been here and it is through Theresa’s
creation of community that they can be seen more fully. Shining a little more brightly, much like
a sapphire would.