Meet the ‘Weird Moms’ of Fort Worth Who Embrace Diversity, Acceptance & Joy in North Texas
From meet and greets with local candidates to the “Weird Mom Prom,” this Fort Worth nonprofit is building community and changing perceptions about the kinds of people who live in the DFW metroplex.
Eight years ago, a moment of humor shared between two women blossomed into a movement for weirdos in North Texas.
In 2018, Haley Ballenger had just moved to Fort Worth from Houston, where her husband had family ties and deep roots but she didn’t know anyone. Casting about for a new social circle, the mother of two joined a book club and hit it off with another mom there like herself.
“We were joking one night,” Ballenger recalled. “Yeah, we're not regular moms, we're cool moms. We were like, yeah, we've got piercings and we've got tattoos and we say bad words. We're not even cool moms, we're weird moms – and it just stuck, right?”
Today, the Fort Worth Weird Moms Club group on Facebook has over 3,000 members, and Ballenger (and her team of volunteer administrators and moderators) have created a space where oddballs, iconoclasts and outcasts can build community ties with one another, and exercise their voices on the political stage. Every member gets to be a “Weird Mom” or just a “Weirdo” regardless of their gender. The Weird Moms host multiple events a year, including the highly anticipated annual ‘Weird Mom Prom’ and a youth Pride Prom, and they’ve just become a formal nonprofit with big plans for the future.
Austin is usually perceived as the hub of weirdness and whimsy in the state, thanks in part to the city’s once-popular, unofficial slogan “Keep Austin Weird,” which seemed to decorate every bumper in the city in the early 2000s and became the motto of the Austin Independent Business Alliance. Meanwhile, North Texas, and especially the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, was often held up as Austin’s opposite, more concerned with business and banking than frivolity and fabulousness. But, in 2026, Austin is the home of Joe Rogan and Elon Musk, and the Fort Worth Weird Moms prove that no part of Texas has a monopoly on quirky, progressive folks.
“We're trying to shine a light on (Fort Worth) and say, ‘we're not Dallas, we're not Tanglewood; there's real interesting people that live here, and you should get to know your neighbors, and you should try to do something nice for your neighbors,’” Ballenger told The Barbed Wire.
Almost immediately after the group’s founding, the Weird Moms spilled off social media and into the real world by hosting events. At first they started small, with a clothing exchange at a member’s house that gave the moms a chance to swap local school uniforms in different sizes. But Ballenger envisioned something bigger, the kind of event that creates lasting memories: the Weird Mom Prom, which began in 2019.
“It was like the typical cheesy high school prom. We had the two pillars, the flower arrangements, and it was in a gym, and we really teased it up,” Ballenger said. “It was called ‘A Night to Forget,’ and the only rules were you had to bring another weird mom as your date, and your outfit couldn't be new off the rack, it had to be something thrifted or something you owned or borrowed.”

After a few years, the adult prom had grown so successful that some of the group’s equally weird kids wanted a piece of the action, which led to the LGBTQ+ Pride Prom, held for the last four years in June. The past three were held at Finn’s Place, a Fort Worth community center for transgender and gender-expansive young people. Like the adult version, the Pride Proms have a theme – this year’s was bioluminescence, “blacklight meets under the sea,” as Ballenger described it – but she said the real message of the events, which are open to folks from ages 11 to 18, is “you are loved, you're welcome, you're seen, you're free to be yourself.”
The Weird Moms also wear their politics proudly on their sleeve, according to Ballenger:
“We tend to be left leaning, very democratic in our beliefs. We’re of course very pro-LGBTQ, we are pro-Black Lives Matter, pro ho. We work really hard on being openly anti-racist and making a difference in our community. We do a lot of community service and give back. We're also really involved in the local political scene. We do a lot of voter education, candidate meet and greets, and things like that.”
Last year, the Weird Mom Prom added drag queens and kings to the night’s lineup, even as a new state law threatened the free expression of drag performers (although the art form remains fully legal in Texas).
“Last year's theme was, ‘I'm with the banned’ – B A N N E D – and we were raising money for banned books and for local libraries, and it's like, you know, what else is banned? Drag.”

It was a big success. “Folks collectively lost their minds, in the best way possible,” Ballenger told us. She believes adding drag to the prom helps make the art form more accessible to people who’ve never experienced it before. As a result, bringing back drag was the “number one requested thing” for 2026.
Now in its seventh year, the latest Weird Mom Prom is scheduled for September 19, with a theme of “Nowhere to Wear It,” as a place to break out that special outfit “you bought and you’re like ‘I don’t know where I’m going to wear this, but I have to have it.’” Ballenger anticipates that around 70 weirdos will attend, dressed in everything from cosplay to comfy sweats to wedding finery. But there’s one major difference from past proms, which raised money for local causes and nonprofits.
“This year Weird Moms have officially incorporated as a nonprofit in Texas, and we're working on getting our official IRS nonprofit status, so we're going to be raising funds this year for us, and our goal is to buy a building that we can turn into a community third space or a community event center,” Ballenger explained.
The Weird Moms envision a place where they can host regular community events, and offer services such as a food pantry, book exchange and clothing swap closet. And since it would be operated by a nonprofit, community members will be able to rent it for their events at a fraction of the cost of other local commercial spaces.
“Even our local community spaces are charging over $100 an hour … (and) that’s just not sustainable,” Ballenger said. “There's been a lot of interest in doing a ‘Weird Mom University,’” she continued, “where different folks come and teach a skill — teach one, learn one. We have members who are PhD astrophysicists, and we have folks that are master seamstresses, and quilt makers, and bakers, and photographers, and you know, all these great skills that we could learn and share and teach each other, but where do we have it, and how do we do it affordably?”
Reflecting on the past eight years, and the rapid growth of the Weird Moms from a Facebook group to a local force to be reckoned with, Ballenger seems equal parts surprised and proud. “It sounds so silly (to say that) this Facebook group is my magnum opus, but it really has changed my life and changed the lives of other people.”
Her kids, currently 12- and 18-years-old, even think she’s pretty cool, she said, frequently sharing the Facebook group with friends’ parents or telling her when they spot a Weird Moms bumper sticker in the wild. “They are really my number one cheerleaders.”
Despite initially feeling displaced and lost by her move to Fort Worth eight years ago, Ballenger knows she’s exactly where she’s meant to be. “It's a wild ride that I could have never imagined, and I'm honored that I get to use my big mouth and all of my privilege to try to make the world a better place.”
