Today we’d like to introduce you to Lucas Crigler.
Hi Lucas, thanks for sharing your story with us. To start, maybe you can tell our readers some of your backstory.
My story begins in 1981, when I was adopted by two extraordinary people — loving, supportive, generous beyond measure. Everything I’ve become, every achievement, every second wind — I owe to them. I couldn’t have done any of it alone.
I was born in Virginia. I earned a B.S. in Creative Advertising from Virginia Commonwealth University, then continued to The Creative Circus in Atlanta, a school known for cultivating creative misfits — photographers, illustrators, art directors, writers. That’s where I first came out, in a suburb called Decatur. I always loved that detail — Decatur was where the Indigo Girls started. It felt poetic, like my own beginning was somehow stitched to theirs. My first girlfriend was a chef at their restaurant. I suppose, as the saying goes, go big or go home. HA!
So yes, I came out as a lesbian back in 2007. That feels like a lifetime ago. Soon after, I started my first job as an Art Director at a small agency in Providence, Rhode Island — NAIL Communications. There were only thirteen of us, and it felt like creative bootcamp. I was presenting to clients on day one, working on everything from solar panels to candy, food banks to footwear. It was immersive, chaotic, wonderful. I stayed five years — and weathered two failed romantic engagements during that time. lol
It was my second fiancée who encouraged me to leap. To reach further. She pushed me to leave NAIL and take a job in Salt Lake City, Utah. The relationship didn’t last. Neither did the job. I was let go shortly after our breakup, and though they couldn’t quite articulate why, I suspect presenting as a visibly butch lesbian made me… inconvenient. Out of step with what they were looking for in an employee. Pfft.
That chapter was hard. I quickly spiraled into a dark place. But we had adopted two boxer pups, and those dogs saved me. They pulled me out of bed when I didn’t want to move. They gave my mornings meaning. And a year later — from what felt like rock bottom — I found myself in Los Angeles. Not just surviving, but thriving. I became the sole art director on what would go on to be named one of the top commercials ever made.
(https://www.thedrum.com/news/2022/06/14/world-s-best-ads-ever-77-honda-draws-its-engineering-pedigree-paper)
We won everything — Clios, Cannes Lions, D&AD pencils. We were even nominated for a creative arts Emmy. It was surreal. A career-defining experience. A lifeline disguised as work.
It was 2015. I had identified as a lesbian for eight years. But the community was shifting — making room for queerness and gender-fluidity. An expansion of the human spirit. I decided to put myself out there again and joined OKCupid. One of the first people I met was a trans man. He shared his story. And suddenly… the world cracked open and a lightening bolt struck me.
Everything I had been quietly questioning for years finally had an answer. There was a name for it now. There had always been a word, I just hadn’t known it yet.
From a young age, I knew I was not like the rest of the girls. I hated dresses. Makeup. Dolls. I played on an all-boys travel soccer team from ages 9 to 15 — technically co-ed, but I was the only “girl” who made the cut. When my brother grumbled about wearing a tie to church, I remember thinking, I’d give anything to wear a tie instead of these awful tights! I was the kid pulling ponytails, making girls laugh like the little boy I was — annoying, maybe, but also restless in my skin. I looked like a girl. But I wasn’t one. I just didn’t want to be made fun of so I kept it all inside.
After that OKCupid encounter, I started stepping into myself. At a party, someone asked my pronouns. I said, “They/them, for now… I’m not on hormones yet and I don’t want to make people uncomfortable.” They looked me in the eye and said, “But how do you identify?” And without hesitation, I said, “He/him.” They smiled and said, “Then that’s what we’ll use. To hell with anyone else!” That moment cracked something open. It was the first time I felt seen.
For a year, I went by “Crigs” — a nickname derived from my last name and one my soccer teammates had called me for years. It helped me create space between the feminine name I had been given and the identity I was growing into. But I hesitated to change my body physically just yet. I was 34. I’d built a whole career under a different name. I’d won awards that were recorded under that identity.
So I asked myself a question: If I were stranded on a deserted island and found a vial of testosterone, would I take it? And the answer, every time, was: yes. Without hesitation. That’s when I knew — I wasn’t unsure. I was just afraid. Not of who I was, but of who and what I might lose by being honest.
May 26, 2017 — the day I began hormone therapy. The day I chose truth over comfort. By October that same year, I had a new job at McCann Worldgroup, the largest agency in the world, and moved to NYC with my dogs and my new found confidence. It was there I came up with Mastercard’s “True Name” campaign — giving trans people the ability to use their chosen name on their credit cards.
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Drn9eJbyHeM) It may seem small, but for many, it’s everything. It’s safety. Dignity. A piece of their identity restored.
By then, I was no longer just stepping into Luke. I WAS Luke. Fully.
Fast-forward to 2024. I was leading national campaigns for JPMorganChase and Kamala Harris’s DNC videos. I had made it. But something shifted.
Six years in NYC — through COVID, through a toxic relationship, through burnout — left me depleted. My dogs, now almost 12, were slowing down. My girl lost both her eyes to cancer. Her brother had a spinal stroke — paralyzed for four days. He recovered, but he’s never been quite the same. I knew it was time to pause. To breathe.
I called an old NYC roommate who had relocated to Ohio after a medical procedure at Cleveland Clinic. I asked if he had space for me and the dogs.
He said, “HELL YES. Get your ass out here. Help me around the house a few days a week — you’ve got a room.”
So I came. I had a small savings. Started freelancing. And for the first time in a long time… I slowed down.
A wild twist: a friend I met in LA — a brilliant lesbian DJ and event producer — happened to live here, too. She throws queer joy–soaked parties across the country under the name @goodboyparties. We reconnected. I started helping out. The universe works in strange, beautiful ways.
These days, I’m learning how to DJ. Spending time by the lake. At the gym. Making new friends. Most importantly, I’m savoring every minute with my pups during this final stretch. They’ve carried me through everything. I owe them everything. And I was also able to spend the entire winter and holidays with my beloved parents. They’ve been my biggest supporters throughout the years and I’m eternally grateful for them. They’re getting older and I’m so happy we could spend those months together.
My plan now? When the time comes — when the savings run out, or my dogs pass on — I’ll return to a big city (probably back to NY), to the work, to the chaos.
Unless something anchors me here. Cleveland’s been great to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this emotionally fulfilled. So If the universe is listening — I’m open.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
Definitely not an easy path — but it’s been a meaningful one. I was adopted by two incredibly loving and supportive people, and I owe them everything. But even with that solid foundation, life threw its share of curveballs. I came out as a lesbian in 2007, and later came out again — this time as a trans man — which was equal parts terrifying and liberating. There’s a lot of grief in transition, not just joy. I built a whole career under a different name. I won awards under that name. So stepping into who I truly was meant facing the fear of what I might lose — professionally, socially, even personally.
There were also those harder chapters. I lost a job shortly after a breakup in Salt Lake City — no real reason given, but it wasn’t hard to guess. Being a visibly butch lesbian at the time made me inconvenient in some rooms. That led to a real downward spiral. But my dogs pulled me through. Literally. They got me out of bed when I didn’t want to move. They gave me a reason to keep going.
And then there were the beautiful surprises — like finding myself in LA a year later, directing a commercial that went on to win just about every major ad award, including a Clio, Cannes Lions, and even a Creative Arts Emmy nomination. That experience was a lifeline disguised as work. It gave me the confidence to keep pushing forward, even when things were hard.
Fast forward to now — I’ve led national campaigns, helped launch Mastercard’s “True Name” initiative, moved through burnout, and found my way back to emotional fulfillment in Cleveland of all places. It’s been messy and nonlinear and full of lessons. But I wouldn’t trade it.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
Thank you — I appreciate that more than you know. I’m a creative by trade — started out as an Art Director, now I wear a few different hats. I’ve worked on everything from solar panels to political campaigns, and I’ve been lucky enough to lead national work for brands like JPMorganChase, as well as initiatives that carry real weight, like Mastercard’s “True Name,” which gave trans people the ability to use their chosen name on credit cards. That one makes the all the corporate grind worth it.
These days, I’m making my income by freelancing with ad agencies in NY. One agency was a pharma agency and that also felt like I was making a difference in that the projects were for narcolepsy, osteoporosis and COPD drugs that will actually change people’s lives for the better.
At my core, I’m a storyteller. I care deeply about making work that’s emotionally resonant and culturally relevant. I come from the world of advertising, but the lines have blurred — I’m just as passionate about helping people find their voice as I am about helping brands do the same through all sorts of media and fully integrated campaigns.
How can people work with you, collaborate with you or support you?
You can find my entire portfolio and contact info here:
LucasCrigler.com Just because these are big-budget productions I’m skilled at making flyers and directing and producing low- budget web or social media films for local businesses.
I’m also learning how to DJ, so stay tuned as I fine tune those skills. I’d love to start DJing events.
I can also sling beer and wine at catered parties. 😉
And shoot, I mean, I have two hands. Put me to work!
Cheers.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://LucasCrigler.com
- Instagram: @CoolTransLuke
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/lucas-crigler-47823332/
- Youtube: @CoolTransLuke





