I was always a different sort of girl. I rarely if ever played with dolls. During recess, I joined the boys for a game of football and left jump rope to the girls. I detested wearing skirts, dresses, or anything pink, preferring instead jeans, T-shirts, and tennis shoes.
My long hair always went into a ponytail, which was in turn swept up into a baseball cap. I enjoyed helping my dad work on cars, playing in the dirt, riding bikes with the neighbor boys, and staying out until dark shooting baskets in our yard. I remember wondering if the doctor had made a mistake when I was born and if I really was a boy.
Though I grew out of many of my “gender non-conforming” ways—I no longer wear baseball caps all the time or particularly enjoy working on cars—many have remained. I still don’t like to wear skirts or dresses, I wear my hair in a ponytail more often than not, and I prefer ESPN to HGTV or TLC. My nails are never painted, and if I can help it I don’t wear pink.
I felt most aware of my “deficiencies” in girliness in the months leading up to my wedding. Though I was thirty-two when I got married and had desired a husband for some time, I had never even thumbed through a bridal magazine. Because I hadn’t spent my life fantasizing about my “dream wedding,” I was pretty much worthless at planning. I spent my entire engagement feeling like a fish out of water trying to answer questions, make decisions, and not act like an ignorant fool in the process. Why I didn’t elope still mystifies me.
To put it simply, I’m just not that kind of girl.
What the World Says
I’m thankful to have grown up in the nineties when I was given the innocuous badge of “tomboy.” The term “gender non-conforming,” or perhaps even “gender dysphoria,” had not yet entered the vocabulary of the average person. However, were I a child today, perhaps I’d be approached by someone who would question my “gender identity” because my “gender expression” didn’t conform to that of a typical female.
In preparing to write this post, I did a quick Google search for “signs that you might be transgender.” The Google AI bot listed behavioral and emotional cues that might tell a person that he or she is “mislabeled” as the wrong gender. While I didn’t meet the emotional criteria, my younger self certainly checked a lot of boxes on the behavioral list—all because I didn’t like hot pink, baby dolls, or nail polish.
Ironically, in an effort to “liberate” people who don’t fit the typical stereotype of their gender, the world actually reinforces those stereotypes. The logic goes something like this: if you don’t fit the mold of a girl (or a boy) and it seems like you’re a better fit for the other gender, then that’s probably where you really belong.
But do you see the problem? (Okay, bad question. There are lots of problems with that statement.) Do you see how the entire transgender movement is predicated on the idea of boy and girl molds? The stereotypes that feminists and progressives have tried so hard to break are actually the backbone of the notion that boys can be girls and girls can be boys.
Ironic, isn’t it? Wouldn’t it be nice if there were a worldview that had room for girls to be girls even if they like football, NASCAR, and power tools? Or for a boy to be a boy even if he’d rather crochet than swing a hammer and listen to showtunes rather than heavy metal?
I have good news. There is.
A Better, Biblical Way
While a biblical worldview may be accused of reinforcing gender stereotypes and putting women into a straightjacket of patriarchal oppression, when applied rightly, it actually provides beautiful freedom in gender expression. At the same time, it leaves no ambiguity regarding gender identity.
Genesis 1:27 removes all question marks when it comes to the question of the binary nature of the genders:
So God created man in his own image; he created him in the image of God; he created them male and female. (Genesis 1:27, emphasis added)
In the new and “very good” world, free from the deceit and stain of sin, God created exactly two genders. And while we suffer under the curse, which brings with it physical, emotional, and mental suffering, we don’t have to wonder if God made a mistake in His creation of each one of us.
For it was you who created my inward parts;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I will praise you
because I have been remarkably and wondrously made.
Your works are wondrous,
and I know this very well.
My bones were not hidden from you
when I was made in secret,
when I was formed in the depths of the earth. (Psalm 139:13–15, emphasis added)
Each of us is “remarkably and wondrously made.” God did not accidentally put a male into a female body. He did not give the wrong parts to a girl who likes professional wrestling or to a guy who prefers ballet. We can rest assured in our sexual identity because we can trust our good and faithful Creator in doing what is right.
The news gets better. Because I am secure in who God made me to be, I don’t need to wonder whether I am actually a female. The great variety and spectrum in gender expression—from the girliest of girls to the most rugged of men and everything in between—speaks to the creativity and imagination of our Designer.
God created a world filled with diversity: from the changing seasons to varied landscapes and the vast array of animal species and plant life. Everywhere we look we see variances. Why wouldn’t He give us variety not only in our appearances but also in our tastes, abilities, interests, and talents?
I realize that gender dysphoria may be a real and painful struggle for some individuals, and I am not downplaying that at all. But rather than feeding that pain, we can start from a place of freedom. It’s okay to express your gender in ways that don’t fit neatly into our culture’s box. We can break the gender stereotypes all to the glory of our intelligent, creative Designer!
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