Un-apologetic


Just yesterday it happened again. It was not the first time. And it certainly will not be the last time. But it is tiring, every time around.

I speak about a certain kind of cis-het christian asking, no, inquiring about how we, queer people, reconcile our “lifestyle” with the teachings of the Bible. Ever so often, this question is more than just a simple, innocent question to gain some insight: often, it carries an implicit judgment – your lifestyle cannot be reconciled with the Bible, right? Come on, defend yourself.

And so the Bible gets turned into a weapon, something it was never intended to be. And first of all, it is not our job to educate those who don’t agree with us. So much has been written and done already by authors and theologian for which I’ll forever be grateful, so many sources are available readily for those are truly looking for answers that it is not our job to do that work.

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Just be a drag, just be a Queen (or a King)


I have harbored to dream of doing drag for quite some time – well before the show “Queen of Drags” arrived over here on our screens.

Queen? King? Both? Tranimal? Clown? Camp? Diva? Goth? The possibilities are seemingly endless. Some would say that as a person who was assigned female at birth (afab), I can in no way be a Drag Queen – only a Drag King, if I want to do Drag. To that I say bs -drag is for everyone – for reasons I will name later. And, as we are at it, I am genderqueer and intersex: where do you draw the line as to who is male or female enough to perform or not which category of drag? Does one need a penis to be a Drag Queen? So what about trans men? Drag is for everyone who wants to bring their specific flavor to it.

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From T to no T – masculine, feminine, and everything inbetween and beyond


In my last post I was musing about whether I was going to microdose testosterone or not. And even though the matter has been taken out of my hands in some ways, I have advanced in my reflections thanks to discussing the matter with my psychologist, also meditating on it on my own.

I asked myself, why do I think I feel the need to take T? Obviously, because there is this masculine part of me that is important to me. Expressing that, and feeling my masculinity makes me feel secure, safe and strong. It makes me feel grounded within myself and protected, and far less vulnerable.

And there is my feminine side which of course I do not want to deny, but that I did not know what to do with, and that I came to feel more and more uneasy with. But why actually?

Of course, I have always had these two parts to me, like two sides of a coin that together make one. But what is the problem with my feminity? Why has it become more difficult over time not to accept it, but to express it?

Continue reading “From T to no T – masculine, feminine, and everything inbetween and beyond”

To T or not to T


On February 25 I have an appointment with an endocrinologist to talk about the possibility of testosterone microdosing for me in order to masculinize my appearance in several aspects and lower my voice (more marked facial features, muscles, body fat distribution… ) – but in no case do I want to look like a man or be a man – because simply, I am not. More body hair ugh – that’s something I’d rather not – no thanks. But you can’t pick and choose.

But I do have doubts now, second thoughts.
Why do I feel the need to do this?

During my 2 months stay in the clinic, I felt perfectly comfortable in my body, with no desire or need for testosterone. Whenever I thought about it, my answer was “no”. Yes, once or twice I put on my binder and it felt great – but that was it. I felt pretty good and confident as I was, as I am.

So why has it changed since I got home again, and why was it different before I went there? And what was different over there?

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Remember the lost 2019


Whisper their names gently with love and grief
And shout their names from the rooftops with anger

Still today

murder
suicide
death
discrimination
hatred
violence
screams of pain

3314 lives lost
from 2008 until today

For being who they are,
living their truth in beauty,
trans-cending the imposed limits of their beings

Whisper their names gently with love and grief
And shout their names from the rooftops with anger

Mourn their lives
Then, be a light
who fights the darkness of hatred
for each life hurt or lost
is a whole world that disappears
is one stars less that shines brightly in the sky
a diamond of infinite worth that disappears

Let us protect each other
protect and love our siblings
protect our youth
Protect trans women of color

All are
wonderful
beautiful
precious
unique
worthy
shining stars.

Come out, come out, wherever you are!


Today is National Coming Out Day.

After having been in the closet most of my life and gone through conversion therapies and exorcisms, I finally came out last year together with my wife. I came out as lesbian, she came out as transgender. Only later in my journey did I come out as non-binary as well -not that I hadn’t been like this since my childhood, but I was lacking the vocabulary to say so.
What first seemed like a disaster in some ways (loss of job as pastor and friends after a very painful process, burnout and various difficulties) has also become a blessing and a new start, a new chance; the beginning of a journey of self-discovery that probably would not have been possible otherwise.

Coming out was the beginning of a whole new life. I was finally free to be, and become whom I’ve always been, and say goodbye to those who’d condemn me for being myself. Also, I could (and had to) work on those voices still inside my head which spoke of hell, and move forward with my life.

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Partners in Transition


When one partner in a relationship transitions, actually both transition. It is a challenging, but beautiful time, and the one can be a catalyst for the other in a beautiful and enrichening way.

In May 2018, at the very end of the month, my wife (whom I had thought to be my husband of 20 years) finally realized and awakened to her true self, the person she was always meant to be but could never express – neither in words, thoughts, nor actions. There had been fleeting stolen moments of happiness, tiny sparse hidden islands of release, unexplained – but the breaktrough, the realization only happened on that tuesday in may, a late afternoon in a therapists office.

That tuesday afternoon was the starting point of a whole new life for the two of us. What to do, where to go, whom to inform, which direction to take, at which pace?

Stay together or not? That was a question I did not ask myself. It was a question that others from the outside asked me, presuming that I wouldn’t want to live together with a trans woman, or that, once the transition “done”, she would choose a man. Another question that regularly came up immediately was the one about me, whether I would now automatically “become a man”, to continue the traditional heteronormative couple. If I still had hair, I’d have ripped it out out each time…

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