Updated: Jun 14

Not Again

Getting really tired of people mistaking me for a man. I do everything to defuse this, but my efforts in the past, and even now don't matter, hence is why I no longer want to kill myself over changing who I am for the sanctification for others.

Case A: Childhood (Milmine, Cerro Gordo, Bement)

I had long hair once, and wore dresses. I was called a lesbian. Constantly. Go bigger, dressed decently, comfortably, was still called a lesbian.

Case B: Teenhood (Breathiit)

Wore what I wanted, had long hair until Junior year of Highschool. Was called a lesbian, told I was a lesbian by people I will not mention for privacy purpose.

Case C: Young Adulthood (KMBC/YWAM/HTCT)

I cut my hair, wore simple clothes designed for women, and both for men, and women. At KMBC I could not wear pants, only dresses, kulotts, okay? A elder man who use to be a student, looked at me, and my friend (whose name will remain concealed) in the parlor of the dinning hall could clearly see I was in a dress, wearing high heels, and said,

"Is he taking good care of you?"

She was shocked, and I sighed and just said,

"Yeah. I am..."

I did this to just shut it down, he made up his mind, and I wasn't going to embarrass him.

Go to Subway, saw Mrs. Light (who has passed away), cashier said,

"What does he, your husband want to eat?"

Umm... gross. No. She was older, I was way younger, and I was once again, called a man and what's worse? Her husband. Mrs. Light was shook, she told the cashier I was her friend, and a woman. A year later, same cashier said the same thing, but my mother was with me, and she, like Mrs. Light, was shocked somewhat, and let it go, but I was fuming inside.

I go to YWAM (Youth With A Mission), was told they didn't want to make excuses for me in Turkie (correct spelling for their nation. I was personally told how to spell it by a Turk) and I was also told I shake hands like a "man", and looked like man. Do I see what they meant now? Yes. Do I agree with the approach? No. In the end, I was expected to change so the delicate balance in that culture wouldn't be disturbed. Guess what? Their women had short hair, was masculine, and dressed like men, some of the Turks did this, and I'm standing there, naturally masculine in anything I am in, and going,

"Wow! Okay! I'm told to dress more girly, and most of the girls I see are butch, whether that is on purpose or their preference, they're not girly here at all."

Case D: Adulthood (Jobs)

I get jobs, 15 in total and almost all of them the bosses, or co-workers, or customers assumed I was a lesbian, or a man. I wore the same company uniforms they did, I said the same slogans they did, I had the body parts the female workers had---but I was called a man.

Currently: (Today)

Hair is growing back out, I dress how I want that doesn't violate the scripture despite what many say about me. And yet, I was called "he" at the Comicon, and the man with his friend heard it, and literally said loud enough for everyone to hear,

"He? You mean her?"

Go to Lees, in Hazard, go to the bathroom, a woman stops me, is startled with a butch haircut and says to me who was bald at the time,

"Is this not the lady's restroom?"

I shut her down, and told her she's not black, she doesn't know how black hair is painful, and dead, dry, and horrible to work with, and that I would never enter a bathroom that wasn't my gender. Workers from another area come through the doors of Lees, and says,

"Thank you sir."

And just tonight, a woman at Walmart called me "Him", when her co-workers said, "Her", and she looked disheveled that I would correct her.

An applicant insisted to call a man, so my team made a Job Disclaimer for he insisted to call me "sir", throughout the entire interview.

Went to a church service in Hazard Kentucky and a man claimed Yahweh told him to come over, and pray with me, and he called me "He" the whole time. Afterwards, I put this man in his place, and told him,

"You claim you spoke to God, and he told you about me? Funny, I talk to God too, but I test the spirits and make sure who's speaking. If you were speaking to God, then he would have told you I am a woman!"

This man said it was his glasses that made him mistake me for a boy. The other guy behind me who's hands were on my shoulders, shoot off real fast, and he claimed,

"I knew you were a woman the whole time!"

I snapped my head around and told him,

"No, you didn't!"


I am disgusted. Utterly disgusted that our society is like this. I have a chest that every woman develops and I am still called a sir? And people wonder why I am aggressive towards people who purposely choose to dress the opposite of their natural gender? People wonder why I'm a minster? The answer is simple. I am a minster to speak the Gospel, and to take a stand about this movement of LGBTQ+ for this reason. It's sad when a world looks at naturally masculine or feminine men, and woman, and call them everything but their gender no matter what people like me go to lengths to show off our natural gender, an then someone has the gall, and audacity to say to my face when I'm in a dress, much less wearing my female clothes made for my species,




Yeshua better take His kingdom back, overthrow the Anti-Christ, and throw all the evil of this world in that Lake Of Fire soon. And while he is at, he can throw this gender nonsense in there to burn with it. I have one thing to say to these people who insist to say I'm not woman enough, girly enough, feminine enough, and a man. Read my poem really closely, and see if any of it applies to your corrupted judgmental thinking when you look upon my face, and my body.