I’m Looking for a Trans in Finance

Leo Aquino finally felt finances click for him when he was saving for top surgery because it gave him something new and priceless: hope for the future.

A couple of months ago, Aquino, the founder of Queer and Trans Wealth which boasts 18,000 followers on Instagram, was a guest on my financial podcast “Bad With Money.”

Since the show’s launch in 2016 and in the three years since I’ve personally transitioned, I’ve witnessed an uptick in the availability of – and desire for – specifically transgender finance professionals.

The same way workplaces were influenced by gay and lesbian rights activism in the 90s to the 2010s, so too have some banks and financial institutions become more open to the needs of transgender employees and customers. (Full disclosure: I have been asked to consult on trans issues for Chase Bank, for example.)

Some of these trans advisors, coaches, and planners (like Aquino) operate outside the system, identifying as anti-capitalist and advocating for integrating social justice values into investing. Some exist inside bigger, more established firms working from the inside out – like trans woman Andrea Romero.

The 53-year-old Louisiana-based private wealth advisor came out to colleagues and clients at Edward Jones Investments right as she was about to undergo facial feminization surgery in 2018. She was nervous, but she’d found her company’s health insurance packet explicitly covered FFS. She said it turned out that a trans man advisor who had transitioned while working there years before her had instituted it. In an incredibly conservative industry, it was a sign that change was happening.

“Now, can you come in in a purple muumuu with a beard?” Romero said. “Probably not.”

On the other end of that finances and gender identity and expression spectrum is Philly-based transmasc financial advisor River Nice. Nice is the founder of Be Intentional Financial, which on its website, promises to help clients “control your money, design your life, and abide by your ethics all at the same time.”

Nice’s father made it a point to teach them about taxes and savings, because he ran his accounting practice out of their family’s New Jersey home. After Nice’s ex-girlfriend disclosed to them that she was in debt from her transition, Nice realized the knowledge they had from their father was being gatekept from other queer and trans people. This kicked off their interest in financial education. Nice is one of two trans people in finance that I knew of in 2016, and Aquino credits Nice with inspiring him to also become an openly trans money coach. If you can see one, you can become one.

“Hope” is what the more than half a dozen transgender financial professionals I spoke to for this article view as the cause for the recent rise in trans financial coaches, advisors, planners, and customers. And hope has always been crucial to queer survival.

For example, Romero mentioned a gay male client of hers who, in his 60s, despite owning a successful catering company, had nothing saved for retirement. When Romero asked why, he revealed he’d been HIV+ since 1999.

“What is it worth? I can’t get married. What is it worth? I’m going to die of AIDS,” she said he explained.

But in 2024, gay men who thought this way have slowly changed their tune. This same growth is in its infancy for trans people.

Not much official research has been done to collect exact statistics on trans people and their finances. As of now it’s guesstimation or small surveys. The most recent report was a collaboration between The Motley Fool and the Queer Money podcast (hosted by two cis gay men), that showed 74 percent of transgender Americans report being discriminated against by a financial professional which makes them reluctant to seek one out again. However, the information in this study came from just 2,000 Americans and was self-reported. The methodologies don’t really hold up, though it is interesting to learn that from that crop, only 58 percent of trans people had a basic checking account compared to LGBs’ 75 percent.

Romero attributed this type of trans discrepancy to gender stereotypes: Trans men might not have grown up with the money lessons their brother got from their father. Or it was never assumed the family business would go to them. As for trans women, due to the pervasive wage gap, Romero theorized, they are going to receive lower salaries after they transition. And for all flavors of trans person, estrangement from family creates additional financial stressors.

“We are losing this race,” Romero said, referring to the climb for economic and class mobility alongside straight and/or cis people. Trans people are starting from behind the line. If a queer person prefers a gay doctor, or a gay dentist, why not, Romero said, go to an LGBTQ financial advisor? Specifically a trans one.

Nice said some of their new clients come to them saying that while they can now see a future for themselves, they still can’t imagine one where money matters in society. Maybe we’ll all live in a Mad Max future where water is scarce and bones are our currency. How can they save when they don’t believe in money as a system? How can they own real estate if they don’t believe in private property ownership?

But Nice said, there are other ways to think about these concepts. Trans people just have to seek them out more than their cis counterparts because the industry standards don’t consider alternatives. The emotional and imaginative barriers for queer people persist in personal finance.


Leo Freeman, a 36-year-old based in Oakland, is one of six co-founders of Rad Planners, a community of leftist radical financial planners that was born out of the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests. A swath of people were suddenly looking to shift their investments away from extractive, racist corporations and found their existing advisors had no idea how to do that. Financial professionals who did specialize in that area were overrun and needed to refer out.

As of now, Rad Planners has 330 members and meets once a month. They have a Slack channel but no website so as to stay a bit underground. He estimates 10 or so Rad Planners exist under the trans umbrella, and Freeman said at times the group works backwards, getting organizers and activists with leftist politics their financial professional licenses and then setting them up at jobs within big firms.

While his friend Nice helps people build wealth, Freeman helps redistribute it. Because there’s a lot of regulatory risk in breaking traditional investments and divesting from Wall Street, Freeman’s firm, OBRAN Capital Advisors, lawyers up. Not all professionals are fiduciaries, though traditional finance media sways people into making sure the one you hire is. And a fiduciary is typically required to make their clients the most money, with the vague wording of prioritizing the client’s “needs” first and foremost.

Fiduciary duty originates from medieval times in England, and was codified in English common law. Freeman believes it is deeply outdated. The idea is that fiduciaries should be considering 10 generations of bloodline for a family trust, so the risk is that within 10 generations, someone from the family could sue Freeman and co. for making them less money. Even if one of the members asked for the investments to be more ethical and OBRAN obliged. For example, Freeman might help a client break up a family trust that had been set up by their great, great, great grandfather from money that was made off the sale of a plantation or from the labor of enslaved people. Maybe they’d redistribute some of that wealth reparations-style.

“We’re not really breaking the [fiduciary] duty,” Freeman said. “We’re reimagining it. It’s redefining what’s best for the client.”

While Nice, Freeman, and Aquino identify as anti-capitalist financial advisors, Lindsey Young, a trans woman and registered investment advisor based in Maryland, identifies as “more of a capitalist” and a “neoliberal.”

Young estimates her client base is half LGBTQ people and half straight couples (mainly and adorably as a result of queer clients referring their parents). Her investing tactic is risk averse, pushing low cost index funds or the mostly stable S&P 500, for example. But someone like Nice or Aquino might instead suggest Environmental, Social and Governance funds (ESG) which are social justice informed stocks that have been vetted for positive effect.

Those in politics who oppose this investing tactic refer to the advisors suggesting these vetted stocks as the “ESG cartel.” In June, the House Judiciary Committee released a report detailing “new direct evidence of a ’climate cartel’ consisting of left-wing activists and major financial institutions that collude to impose radical environmental, social, and governance (ESG) goals on American companies.”

Working with a trans advisor isn’t just about having an advisor who will get your pronouns right, it’s also about escaping family systems after a client comes out as anti-capitalist, Freeman said, or wants to evolve their family lineage using money.

“What I think is needed inside the financial services industrial complex right now is there’s a full ass generation of millennials and Gen Z folks who are looking at a future whose Boomer parents are saying here…,” Freeman said, indicating Boomers passing money down to their children in a “great wealth transfer.” By instituting stipulations and other rules, these parents and guardians feel they’re protecting their children from ruining their financial futures, but children who have been groomed to be upper class are increasingly rejecting that path and looking for other options.

“Those are the structures of oppression, of blood, of family of origin, especially, too, dynastic wealth really transfers through these families. It’s been really horrifying for me,” he said. “They’re breaking from that pattern, but they still have their $15 million trust.”


Queer, Black, and Japanese financial advisor Kenneth Wilson, who identifies as “basically nonbinary” started five years ago at the financial services company Northwestern Mutual. Back then, there were no other advisors like them in the company. By the end of their first year, Wilson was the third most tenured Black advisor in his office, the most tenured queer advisor in the whole network, and the only Japanese advisor that they knew of.

Since then, they’ve been able to influence increased diversity policies across the board, focusing on leadership within the offices and creating comfortable spaces for both diverse employees and clientele. Especially now through their new team Unicorn Wealth Solutions, which works with unicorns or “unique individual” clients.

Their focus tends to be on the spectrum between gender identity and expression. Wilson wears nail tips to work and sports 30-inch tresses of hair. When they first started, they wore business attire but with a lot of patterns for flair. Now, they dress how they want. (Romero may be out of date on that beard and muumuu dichotomy.)

In fact, Wilson’s drag persona “Shom Etha Monet” was born in 2022 out of a work event in Las Vegas. Northwestern Mutual sent out an email looking for “drag talents” within the company to host their booth at a conference and Wilson, who’d never done drag before, stepped up largely because they already knew how to walk in heels.

“So I emailed them back, and I said that I have never done full drag, but if you buy me a wig and makeup, I will prance around in some heels,” they laughed. They spent $1,000 on a wig, breastplate and outfit reimbursed by the company.

Wilson, who adores his trans community and doesn’t “not identify” with them, doesn’t necessarily label themself as trans. Young and Nice, who are friendly with each other, were two of the first financial professionals to advertise themselves explicitly as trans. And yet many of these advisors couldn’t be more different in their politics and what they offer trans clients.

“It’s really finding an advisor who isn’t just serving the LGBT community, but also addresses where you are in terms of your finances, yes, and finding that alignment,” Young said. “There really is an advisor in the LGBTQ community who really serves the needs of pretty much any type of client that’s out there.”

Young, an economics major in college who worked in San Francisco advising Fortune 500 tech companies on mergers and acquisitions, said she caters to wealthier clients who may not center their trans identity when it comes to their money. Though they’re certainly not closeted, Young said, they may not be out and proud at their workplace. People in their life may know they’re trans, but it’s not information just anyone could Google about them. They’re also not as concerned about the ethics of their investments, as they are about making good returns.

“You have to make a decision, which is, am I going to participate in this, or am I not going to participate in this?” Young said. “And that’s a personal decision that everyone has to make. I do work with people who, for the most part now, are comfortable working in that system.”

On the other hand, Nice introduces themself as “an anti-capitalist financial planner if such a thing is possible.” They don’t believe they’ll overthrow capitalism overnight but they want to help people understand the rules of the game, so they can intentionally decide how they want to play – or if they even want to play at all. Once the client understands financial concepts and has their own life jacket securely fastened, Nice said, they can shift to a more collective mindset.

Independence has been touted as an American value, but it does not align with Nice and their clients. Instead one could ask: What other resources do we have as a queer community, as opposed to capitalism’s rigorous individualism? Is it possible to create a carpool with friends using one car? Or could a chosen family purchase a house together? What do we buy that we could actually do for each other for free?

“I still want you to be intentionally and responsibly stewarding your resources,” Nice said. “You can’t just opt out of capitalism. You can’t opt out of the money system, and if you’re not paying attention to how you’re engaging with it, then you’re probably just replicating this bad stuff that you were brainwashed with.”

Aquino agreed it’s a delicate balance. His clients want to do what they feel is right according to their values, but worry they may have to compromise either their morals or their dreams to survive. He brought up the notion that the queer community passes the same ten dollars around to help each other through hard times. He tries to explain to his clients that you can’t prioritize giving mutual aid, if you don’t have your own savings account.

This is why Freeman started a company called Chosen Family Office. It’s a play on a “family office,” which usually consists of an accountant, an estate planning attorney, a financial advisor, and some admin people working together to help people hoard wealth, avoid capital gains, and invest in off-shore markets.

“So obviously what would it be if we organized rad[ical] advisors and estate planning attorneys and accountants?” Freeman said. “What if we brought in embodiment practitioners and financial therapists to really support people around their planning?”

Freeman said usually anti-capitalist advisors in this case help a client move from an “ownership” model to one of “stewardship.” He and his planners take it a step forward to “kinship.”

Ownership hoards, stewardship redistributes, kinship creates community.


While straight and cis financial big shots like Dave Ramsey or Caleb Hammer give the advice to cut out everything that isn’t necessary (so everything but food and housing usually), Romero understands that “necessary” is different for everyone. Electrolysis for trans women or scar creams for trans men, for example, are not elective for those who need or want them.

Romero spent $12,000 on a hair transplant and said she still wears a wig. She was already going to stand out among the other advisors in her field, and her capacity for that had been reached.

“I’m not going to be the bald chick in the financial advising conference. Are you kidding me?,” she laughed. “It’s not cheap. And I could have bought a small BMW for the [cost of the] facial hair removal.”

Wilson too is realistic about what needs to be done to secure spots in finance. They spoke about their religious childhood and their ability to speak the language of deeply Christian employees and clients so they can uniquely smooth over bigotry in the office.

“You don’t have to change your beliefs at the end of the day, we can’t control what you believe. But when you’re at work, when you’re in a space that’s meant to be communal with other folks, your behaviors need to reflect the values of the company overall,” Wilson tells religious employees who express issues with LGBTQ inclusivity. “Because it’s their job to be here, just like it’s your job to be here so we need to behave the way that reflects what we value as a company.”

Nice found that even other queer people in the space may not fully understand trans and nonbinary specific queries. When they were first searching for other LGBTQ finance professionals of any kind to connect with, they said they met one cis white lesbian, who was not on their same page. “I mentioned polyamory, and she was like, whoa,” Nice said. They were confused, telling her: “You realize that’s a huge market for us?” She did not.

Aquino has clients who want support in how to divest their inherited money from weapons stocks and he has helped with a legal name change that messed up a clients’ credit score. Romero spoke about a nonbinary client, who worried about getting written out of a family trust.

Nice lamented that when you apply for a life insurance policy, you have to do so as male or female. If you apply as a “female,” your insurance will be cheaper. According to Policy Genius, the reason is that women tend to live longer than men, and are perceived as having less health and lifestyle risks.

Disability, however, is flipped. Identifying as “male” gets you a cheaper rate because “men can’t get pregnant” and won’t need to use it for that long period of time.

“Insurance companies need to understand that trans and nonbinary people exist,” Nice said, but there’s also downsides. “I’m scared that if they start basing those actuarial tables on our life expectancy [as trans people], our premiums are going to be way higher than cis people’s, and I don’t want that.” Studies have shown that mortality rates are much higher for trans people.

Estate planning can also be complicated for queer people based on their family dynamics: Clients may want to be very specific about who gets custody of a child or who gets to make their medical decisions should they become incapacitated. The defaults may not cut it.

Freeman was trained by the big firm he used to work at to put the husband’s name first on the files of new client couples, but he would often leave the husband’s name completely off the file as a show of tiny resistance. (Wives names were often left off by other advisors.) He likened it to queer financial advisors of the 90s, who recognized domestic partnerships before the legalization of gay marriage. “And if you could find a nice, crunchy white dyke,” he said, “she could take [queer couples] through the process of not putting you on separate client profiles and put you together as a couple.”

Sometimes, laying out the numbers means Aquino has to be the bad guy. A couple may not be able to grow their family when they want to because their combined incomes are too low or they have too much debt already.

“I’m not going to lie, I’ve signed off of those calls and cried to myself because that’s super unfair,” Aquino said. “That’s really heavy for me to have to walk people through and just, I can’t believe that that’s a reality that we have to deal with.”


Independent financial professionals operate differently than ones connected to institutions like banks and hedge funds. When Nice started their career, they worked at a franchise of a national broker dealer, but that came with a lot of regulation.

Part of that was they could not advertise themself to their niche client base. Any marketing they wanted to do, from social media to a print newsletter, had to be approved by the head office, one steeped with traditional Midwestern family values.

“So marketing myself as a queer financial planner, I was able to do,” Nice said, “but marketing myself as polyamory friendly, as anti-capitalist, anti-racist? None of that was allowed.”

Nice’s first burst of clients after they went independent came from a singular post on a friend’s Instagram story. People told Nice they had no idea there were financial services available for queer and trans people from queer and trans advisors. Nice doesn’t say this to brag, but to show there was indeed a gap in the advertising.

Romero agreed. “I think it can turn off some [potential clients] when all they see are the same white gay men in every ad, because those are the people who command the Pride events and command the businesses in town and command this and command that,” she said. And as a general rule, cis white gay men are not the demographic most in need of help.

While Northwestern Mutual as a whole has their diversity policies, individual franchises may vary. Part of Wilson’s work is creating consistent inclusivity across every franchise. Some rules of the industry are not company-specific, but rather the old school state or federal regulations other advisors spoke of. Wilson believes in lobbying for governmental change, but said LGBTQ people still need to get as much as they can out of the current system.

“Like, the point is that this system is not for us,” they said. “So us succeeding in this system is subversion, period.”

Most advisors will do a free initial consultation so a client can find out if the advisor is more like Young or Romero, or more like Nice and Aquino, who joked he would work with a straight and cis client if they paid a flat fee instead of the sliding scale he offers for everyone else.

“And if you get my pronouns wrong?” he laughed. “I’m going to close the Zoom.”


Trans financial advisors quoted in this piece:
Leo Aquino (he/they), Queer and Trans Wealth – [email protected]
Andrea Romero (she/her) – [email protected]
River Nice (they/them), Be Intentional Financial – [email protected]
Leo Freeman (he/him), Rad Planners – [email protected]
Lindsey Young (she/her) – [email protected]
Kenneth Wilson (they/he) – [email protected]

Recommendations for other queer and trans financial advisors:
Sloane Ortel (she/her), Ethical Capital – [email protected]
Leighann Miko (she/her) – [email protected]
Landon Tan (he/him) – [email protected]
Michelle Waywire (she/they), Young & Scrappy – [email protected]
McKenzie Lannon (she/her), United Capital – [email protected]

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Gabe Dunn

Gabe (he/him) is a queer, trans writer and director whose most recent film GRINDR BABY was selected for Frameline Festival’s 2023 Voices. He is a best-selling author thrice-over, host of the podcasts The Knew Guys, Just Between Us and Bad With Money. As a TV writer, he has sold over a dozen TV shows to networks like FX, Freeform, and Netflix. His young adult sci-fi drama Apocalypse Untreated was released by Audible Originals in 2020. His latest TV project The Daring Life and Dangerous Times of Eve Adams is in development at Universal with Gabe set to write and produce.

Gabe has written 18 articles for us.

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