Spotlight:
Dayna Crozier

In this interview, Dayna opens up about the origins of We Scissor, the challenges and triumphs of queer entrepreneurship, and her vision for a future where business can be both ethical and joyful. She shares her insights on building community, staying connected as a single mom, and the transformative power of creating something that reflects and celebrates queer identities.

From navigating the complexities of identity to reimagining what sex toys can be, Dayna Crozier is not just creating products—she's fostering a movement. And as she continues to push the boundaries of what’s possible, her story serves as a powerful reminder that every bold idea starts with a simple question: "What if this could exist?"

Q&A Interview

I’ve been in Portland for 11 years. I’m originally from NYC and left at 27, and moved around for my ex’s career. I fell in love with this place on a rainy November trip. Portland is the only city other than New York that ever felt like home, and I haven’t thought about moving cities again since.

It’s honestly ridiculous. It began in a fantasy a long time ago. I can’t get out of my own head – even when I’m just trying to have an easy good time with myself as I fall asleep. My fantasy hands were aiding fantasy scissoring, but they could barely reach their fantasy targets without logistical reality getting in the way. So I researched whether any better lesbotoys popped up since the last time I had gone shopping, and there was nothing. Just the ol’ super giant double dildos and strap ons with large blocks getting in the way of bodies coming together. I was chatting with the owner of The Rubber Rose (which I’m sad to say has since closed) in San Diego, and she confirmed that this perfect toy I was looking for really didn’t exist. She emphatically told me it should, and not only would it do very well but she and her partner would want it, so it was my job to make it. Over a decade later, here we are. I wish I could sell it in her store.

Launching our Indiegogo campaign as we near the finish line of our first product release is one of my proudest milestones. When I officially started the business in 2019, I knew nothing about product development – I was a writer, editor, and event producer – but I’ve worked for tiny, cash-strapped businesses and was used to figuring out how to wear all the hats. Then the pandemic hit, and my child was a toddler and my ex is a doctor, so we all know how that went. I met my business/creative partner Nic Porter in 2022, and it was rejuvenating and inspiring to not be slogging through it alone anymore. There were so many points when getting here seemed very literally impossible, and step by step, here we are, fundraising and manufacturing our toy. Even if the Indiegogo fails (which please, don’t) and the product is a flop (ok, please don’t be floppy!) we did it. We are doing it. I’ll be proud of us no matter what.

The current priorities are running my business well, and growing as a person and a parent. But feeling less busy somehow – I miss my friends and sleep. We also have a few other related and unrelated businesses and creative projects in the works, and I’m looking forward to giving those real bandwidth.

First, I have to remind myself that I’m not just making dildos and adding “stuff” to the world. But that perspective helps me to see how on the other hand, we’re doing something very optimistic and subversive by standing firm in our belief in queer joy and love, celebrating gay sex, and caring about LGBTQIA2s* bodies and minds.

Second, We hire queer and underrepresented people at every step of the way. It’s one of my greatest joys to be able to pay talented creative people to grow in work they’re happy to do.

Third, When people see someone finding success in really being who they are and doing something that makes them happy, that gives them permission to do the same, and maybe they can leave a miserable situation or shitty job and thrive in a new story.

I’m pansexual. Gender doesn’t feel like my friend. I’m half Jewish, and either atheist or agnostic, but I find most things very spiritual. I hate binaries to the point that even the introvert/extrovert question feels like a cage. I was in a hetero-facing relationship for 20 years while being out as queer since high school. I’ve been pretty poor and pretty financially stable, was born in the projects and owned a tudor, and was the first in my family to graduate from college. So I feel like I never fit in anywhere, and I can’t be boxed into any one identity (I’ve tried, it’s very confusing and not pretty), especially when some of my own experiences with identity are at odds with each other. I think that because of all this, I know that things could be very different from how they are, which makes me adaptable, and find solutions as a means of survival. And because I have “gotten out” to a degree, I feel like it’s my job to pull others out.

Every first step leads to the next step. And remember that you matter. If you have the great privilege to know who you are and be able to explore what YOU are here to do, and are friendly and fun and can relate to others, many little nudges will come together and compound, and you might do some really magical things in your life and spread that magic to others.

Trying to see that evolution feels like looking into a Magic 8 Ball right now. In the ideal world, our community is one of the standard bearers. I really hope I can give people good paying jobs with good flexibility and intellectual freedom that can help them with self-determination. I hope to be one of many who will be changing the narrative Capitalism has trapped us in by successfully running a business the way Chani Nicholas and Sonia Passi are – with innovative attention to what those contributing to their business and organization need to thrive in their lives and their work.

Primarily through work and friends. Lesbian Culture Club events. There were years when I did pottery at Radius Art Studio – it’s such a great space for creative queers. I love the queer comedy collective That’s What She Said. It’s hard to get out as a co-parenting, single mom who is launching a business. I tend to have my child when things are going on, and it’s important to me to be with her since I don’t have her half the time. I really want to go to Butch Support Group’s Wednesday meetups, but I always have my kiddo.

Moms. We’re struggling. I don’t celebrate the struggle – it’s very damaging to us directly, and I would say it’s damaging to all life on the planet. I believe we could be making the world unrecognizably better if cis men didn’t make it so sisyphean. That pushes me forward, because it’s up to us. We already have to do everything, so let’s just fucking do everything. Maybe people will start helping us. If we want to tear it all down, I trust the moms the most to run the show AND keep us all safe in the process.

I also get inspired by listening to podcasts in the background while cleaning and cooking. How I Built This with Guy Raz is always professionally inspiring. Abby Wambach and Glennon and Amanda Doyle personally blow my mind constantly with We Can Do Hard Things.

Gardening, walking my dog, baking pies, cooking, going to concerts, playing piano. Simple things with the kiddo – puzzles, ice cream cones, farms.

I’m making serious progress on a poetry manuscript.

I’m finishing Winners Take All by Anand Giridharadas. It’s a gripping take on the very dark side of the opportunity economy. Which I have a complicated relationship with – I LOVE galvanizing, conference inspo talk of making the world a better place, but I have a big problem with those platforms being beholden to the corporations profiting off of the opposite. Finishing it up fast so I can start Deep Cuts, a new, celebrated debut novel by Portland writer Holly Brickley. Saoirse Ronan and Austin Butler will be starring in the film adaptation. She’s my bestie’s good friend and I’m very excited for her. I know she worked her ass off for years. While momming.