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?

Continue reading “To T or not to T”

No-resolution Resolution


I like to say that New Year’s resolutions are not really my thing. But maybe they are.

The first thing I saw upon waking up on New Year’s Day with my cat looking into my eyes. He then started talking to me and placed his paw on my cheek. (I like to imagine that it’s because he loves me, but I suppose he wanted something to eat haha – or probably both “hey sweetheart, I love you, but could you fix me a bowl of tuna now?”) I’m so grateful for this furry guy who with his silly antics, gentleness and soft fur warms and lightens up even the dullest days. He’s my best buddy and has been a life saver.

I slept on the sofa, and so did he. And looked at me in the morning.

And there are more things that I am grateful for.

My wife who, through her transition, is becoming more and more herself and is transforming like the caterpillar into the butterfly. Through the road may not have been all easy, it is a rewarding one, and one that has been both challenging and enrichening for me. Not only she changed and became, in a way, a whole new person, but me too – I learned things about myself as I set off on my own journey of transformation.

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From one year to another


This year has been as long as any other year – at least when it comes to the number of its days. Yet, in other ways, it feels like it has been almost twice at long – at least at certain moments.

There has been the loss of my job as pastor in a Mennonite church which marked me. Actually, it was less the loss of the workplace than the treatment received at the hands of those who call themselves “followers of Christ”. Whilst I can easily conceive and understand difficulties in theology, for me, such differences can never serve as an excuse to silence, denigrate and insult someone. The refusal of any kind of dialogue and not being able to be heard -and thus being without voice- was especially hard for me.

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Keep chasing those dreams.


Sometimes, dreams come to an end. They may die a natural death, and sometimes they get trampled upon and choked to death by others. Sometimes, shit simply happens.
For whatever reason it may be, the end of a dream is always painful. But some dreams can be ressurrected, and sometimes the death of a dream leaves for another one to come to life.

When I was 14-15-16 years old, I wanted to become Make-up Artist-Hairdresser-Stylist. But my mother cut short my ambitions, saying that that was not a profession for a christian. And that I should learn something that would prepare me to be a wife and mother.

Fast forward.

After having been fired as a pastor, I have now also been given notice by the seminary where I used to teach: my services are no longer wanted, the reason being that I have come out as lesbian, am married to a trans woman; LGBTQ+ persons are not welcome and the fear is that donators may be lost if a LGBTQ+ person is amongst the teachers. I had hoped for better, and especially, for a more open dialogue. But just as with the church I used to work for, it didn’t happen.

Continue reading “Keep chasing those dreams.”

Endings and new beginnings


“Nobody wants a broken child”. I was watching TV, and a six-year old girl had been admitted to hospital in that show. She was living with foster parents, had hadn’t told them anything about her pain for fear fear of being sent back to the orphanage because “nobody wants a broken child”. She got something for her stomach pain, and the parents told her that the adoption had just been approved. Happy ending.

“Nobody wants a broken child” – and in some places, there is no room for”broken people”. Or rather, people people that have been defined as being broken, unfit, ‘other’ etc by those in charge, those in power.

Besides working as a preacher and pastor for many, many years, I also taught Biblical Wisdom literature in the ANE context and intro to Judaism in a theological seminary. After coming out and getting pushed out of my job as a pastor, the seminary said that they would decide about my case in “given time”. On my side, despite a glimmer of hope, I didn’t have too much hope: there are things and decisions that are predictable, and there are people for whom there is no room in certain places and institutions – it is that simple at its core.

Despite not being surprised by the decision, it still came like a smack in my face, a not so gentle reminder of all that has happened during the last year and of the things that are over. It is the final cut with the evie world, making me effectively an Exvangelical by all means.

What it is not, however, is a cut in my relationship with God or my faith. God does not depend on whether other people think that I’m broken or unfit, doesn’t care about whether other people think that I can’t speak about their word because I’m lesbian, intersex or non-binary.

It also won’t hinder my plans for the future: become self-employed and offer LGBTQIA-affirming counseling (psychological and spiritual direction), writing & photography workshops that foster exploration and affirmation of identity and orientation, as well as being a celebrant and offer not only weddings funerals, but also transition ceremonies, self-marriages and all sorts of things.

Because as painful endings may be, they can turn into something positive and fruitful if I use them as a springboard for something new: a new beginning.

And if something comes to an end for you, or has ended, I wish you wonderful and blessed new beginnings as well.