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‘Inclusive tarot’, ‘intersectionality’, and ‘seeing yourself in the cards’—these aren’t just buzzwords to make tarot sound a bit more modern and palatable. This shit matters. It changes readings. It changes how people see themselves. And honestly? It changes lives.
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I know that sounds a bit dramatic, but once you’ve seen someone clock themselves in a card—properly see themselves reflected in the deck for the first time—you get it. I remember the exact moment it landed for me. I was doing a reading for a woman—I didn’t know she was trans at the time—and we pulled the Empress from the Fifth Spirit Tarot. Now, the Empress in this deck is a trans woman. I mentioned it in passing, just pointing out the artwork, like I often do. And her whole face changed. Her eyes welled up, and she said, “That really means a lot to me.” It hit me like a fucking train.
That was when I realised this wasn’t just about choosing a pretty deck or being ‘progressive.’ This was about making sure that when someone sits across from me, the cards say to them, You belong here. You are seen. Your story matters. And when that happens? The whole reading shifts. The cards open up in a way that you don’t get when someone feels shut out by the imagery or the language. It becomes real. It becomes theirs.
Inclusive Tarot—What the Hell Does That Actually Mean?
Tarot for Everybody—Because You Deserve to See Yourself
Inclusive tarot is basically “tarot that doesn’t make you feel like an outsider the second you look at the cards.” Traditional decks, like the classic Rider-Waite-Smith, are often full of slim, white, cis-het figures—like the Empress looking like some delicate Renaissance princess—which can feel completely alien if that’s not your reality. If you don’t see yourself in that, it can feel like the cards aren’t talking to you at all.
It’s about seeing people like you—whatever your gender, race, body, sexuality, or ability—reflected in the deck. That shit matters.
When people see themselves, they connect to the cards more deeply. It’s not just “nice”—it’s the difference between feeling it and feeling nothing. I’ve seen people light up, sometimes even cry, because a card actually saw them. It cracks something open. And that’s the power of it.
How Tarot Can Reflect Your Identity—Or Totally Miss the Mark
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Tarot’s supposed to be a mirror, right? Reflecting you back. But if the mirror’s just white, skinny, cis-het models? You get fuck all back. It’s like trying to see your reflection in a window that’s fogged up—you know you’re there, but you can’t see yourself clearly.
When you see a card that looks like you—be it a trans Empress, a fat Queen of Cups, or someone in a wheelchair—it hits different. Suddenly, the card isn’t just a symbol; it’s a story you recognise. And that connection? That’s where the real magic is.
I’ve had people get emotional when they see themselves in the cards. That’s when it becomes real. That’s when the reading shifts from being abstract to deeply personal. And that’s why this shit matters.
It’s Not Just the Pictures—Language and Vibes Matter Too
You can have a diverse deck, but if you’re still banging on about “divine feminine” and “strong father figures,” you’ve lost me. Language shapes how we see the cards, and how we see ourselves in them—and that’s something I’ve seen time and again in my readings.
I remember one reading where I switched to using ‘they’ for a court card without even thinking, and the client later told me it made them feel safe—like they didn’t have to defend their gender or explain anything. Just that one word created space for them to breathe.
I use gender-neutral language when I read. No “kings = men, queens = women” bollocks—it’s energy, it’s archetypes, it’s for everyone. When I read for someone, I’m always checking—does the way I’m talking about this leave space for them? Can they see themselves in this card, or am I shoving it into a box it doesn’t need to be in?
Representation is more than just the artwork. It’s in every word you say, every gesture you make. It’s the whole vibe of the reading. All of it asks the same question—Do you feel welcome here? If the answer’s no, something needs to change.
Stereotypes vs Archetypes—What’s the Difference, and Why Should You Care?
Tarot Archetypes: The Good Shit That Speaks to Everyone
Archetypes are those big universal patterns—like the nurturer, the protector, the seeker—that show up in all humans, across all cultures. They tap into something deeper than gender or race. They’re flexible. Anyone can be the caregiver. Anyone can be the Emperor. It’s about the vibe, not what’s in your pants.
When tarot’s working right, it taps into that deep human stuff, and you see yourself in the cards, whoever you are. It’s like the cards are saying, “Yeah, you fit here. This is your story too.”
That’s when tarot is doing what it’s meant to do—helping you see yourself, your story, your potential. Not some rigid ideal. You.
Stereotypes in Tarot—When the Cards Box You In
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Stereotypes? They’re the opposite—they distort those deeper truths that archetypes point to. They shove you into a box.
“Queen = woman, soft, emotional.” “King = man, powerful, stoic.” Yawn.
It’s reductive. It’s boring. And it actively shuts people out.
Especially if you’re queer, trans, or literally anything other than cis-het white, those traditional meanings can feel like a fucking barrier. Stereotypes in tarot readings can make you feel like you’re not meant to be there. Like the cards weren’t made for you. And that’s not what tarot’s about. Tarot is for fucking everyone.
Breaking Out of the Box—How to Actually Read the Archetypes in Tarot
The Empress isn’t just “mum energy”—it’s creativity, nurture, growth. The Emperor? Structure, stability, holding your shit together. None of that has a gender.
Start with the archetype and let the person in front of you fill in the rest. What does “nurture” look like to them?
I remember a reading where the Empress came up, and I was talking about growth and care. The client, who was a single dad, immediately said, “That’s me. I’m both mum and dad.” That moment made it so clear—these archetypes are all in us, but we each live them out in different ways.
When you ditch the stereotypes and work with archetypes, tarot gets deeper—because it meets people where they are. It’s not about fitting people into the cards; it’s about letting the cards meet the person.
That’s when tarot stops being a set of rules—like ‘Kings are men, Queens are women,’ or ‘The Hierophant is always about organised religion’—and starts being a mirror. A mirror that reflects back your story, your reality, not someone else’s version of how your life should look. That’s when it actually works.
How to Avoid Stereotypes in Tarot Readings Without Losing Your Flow
Talk Like a Human—And Ditch the Gender Police
Language can either build a bridge or slam a door in someone’s face. And when it comes to tarot readings, it’s often the little things that make the biggest difference. Swapping out “he” or “she” for “they” when talking about a court card? That’s not “woke nonsense” – it’s making sure no one feels like they’re being pushed out of their own reading.
If someone pulls the King of Cups and says, “This feels like my mum,” you roll with it. You don’t correct them or clutch your pearls because ‘kings are men.’ Tarot is supposed to open doors, not lock them.
Inclusive tarot is fluid. It’s flexible. It’s about letting the cards speak to the person in front of you, not shoving them into a little pink-and-blue gender box. It’s saying, “This card represents leadership – what does that look like for you?” instead of, “This is a man who’s good at business.” It’s keeping the door open, always.
Intersectionality in Tarot—Why One-Size Readings Don’t Fit All
Here’s the thing: No two people experience the same reading the same way. Because we all come to the cards carrying different shit – gender, race, disability, class, trauma, privilege – and that shapes how we see the world. And how we hear the messages in the cards.
“Security” for a white, middle-class homeowner might mean stability and comfort. For a queer, disabled person relying on benefits, it might feel like a fucking prison. Same card, wildly different realities. That’s what intersectionality in tarot is about – recognising that the same message won’t land the same for everyone.
So, you ask questions. You check in. You let the client show you what stability or freedom or success means to them. It’s not about you being a mind reader. It’s about being present, being curious, and being aware that the person in front of you lives a life you haven’t.
Let the Client Lead—You’re Not the Expert on Them
I’m intuitive as hell, but I’m not a mind reader. And I sure as shit don’t know someone’s life better than they do. My job is to read the cards, but more importantly, to read with the person in front of me.
That means I say what I see, but I also ask, “Does this resonate?” or “This card makes me think of X – but how does it land for you?” Sometimes, what I think is a dead-on interpretation completely misses the mark. And that’s fine because it’s not about me being right – it’s about getting the client to see their truth.
When I let the client lead, we get to the real stuff faster. The cards open up because we’re working together. That’s the goal. Tarot is collaboration – not me standing there like some all-knowing wizard handing down universal truths.
Choosing an Inclusive Tarot Deck That Reflects Real People
What to Look For in Inclusive Tarot Decks
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The first thing I ask when looking at a new deck is simple: Does this deck look like the world I live in? Does it look like the people I read for?
I want to see bodies of all sizes. Different skin tones. Gender diversity. Disability. I want to see people who look like my clients, people who look like me. Because when people see themselves in the cards, they connect more deeply. The symbols hit harder when you don’t have to mentally swap in your identity for the person in the picture.
The Fifth Spirit Tarot? Absolutely nails it. Trans Empress, non-binary court cards, wheelchair users – real people. That’s what you want to look for. Tarot decks that reflect real people make the readings better because they remove one more barrier between the client and the message.
Best Tarot Decks for Diversity That I Rate
- Fifth Spirit Tarot (Charlie Clare Burgess) – My absolute go-to deck. Non-binary creator, trans rep, diverse body types, and just beautifully done. Every card feels like it could be someone you know. Using this deck has transformed my readings—clients light up when they see themselves reflected in the imagery, and I feel like I’m holding space for everyone when I shuffle these cards.
- Weiser Tarot – Classic Rider-Waite-Smith imagery but with diverse skin tones. It keeps that familiar symbolism I learned with, but without the all-white, medieval European aesthetic. It’s perfect if you want a traditional deck that actually looks like the real world.
- Spacious Tarot – This deck ditches human figures entirely, inviting you into open landscapes, natural elements, and cosmic spaces. It’s perfect if you want a deck that gives your intuition free rein—less about people, more about energy and possibility. Personally, I’ve found that using this deck often pushes me to trust my instincts more. Without human figures to lean on, it challenges me to read the space, the elements, and the energy in the cards in a more open-ended way, which can unlock insights I wouldn’t have reached otherwise.
- Everybody’s Tarot – A simple, vibrant deck designed to be accessible for everyone. It’s human-free, focusing on bold, playful illustrations that strip tarot back to its core. Great if you want something that’s straightforward and easy to read—especially for beginners or anyone after a clean, open vibe that doesn’t feel cluttered or overwhelming.
How to Choose an Inclusive Tarot Deck That Works for You
It’s not just about ticking boxes – it’s about finding a deck that feels right in your hands and in your gut. You’ll know it when you see it.
I always go back to the Fifth Spirit because it just… works. It makes my clients feel seen. It makes me feel seen. And that connection flows into the reading every time.
You deserve a deck that doesn’t make you shrink. One that lets you show up fully, with all your complexity and messiness. Anything less? Nah. Don’t settle.
Conclusion
Inclusive tarot isn’t a fad. It’s the future. Because tarot is meant to hold up a mirror and say, This is you. And if someone can’t see themselves in the deck, that mirror’s broken.
Moving from stereotypes to archetypes, from exclusion to inclusion – that’s how we unlock the real power of tarot. It’s not about getting it perfect every time; it’s about keeping the door open. Making sure everyone who sits across from you feels like they belong.
That’s the work. That’s the point. And if you’re ready to experience a tarot reading that actually sees you – all of you – book a reading with me. Let’s see what the cards have to say. For you.