Born this way

"I don’t claim to know the politics, the rules, or the right answers about how gender identity should be managed in documents, toilets, or sports. And if it needs to be managed with hormones and surgeries. That’s for those who are directly affected to decide. But from a deeper, more natural and soul-centred perspective, there’s a lesson for all of us—one of acceptance, empathy, and balance."

This painting of mine is a tribute to those whose gender identity doesn’t align with society’s expectations—those born with a soul of one gender and a body of another, or who exist outside the binary entirely. It’s not a modern trend. It’s not a phase. It’s ancient. Sacred. Seen.

Across the globe, cultures have long honoured gender fluidity. In Native American traditions, Two-Spirit individuals were revered as beings who carried both feminine and masculine spirits. In Samoa, the Fa'afafine are an accepted part of life, often known for their grace, humour, and caregiving roles. In India, Hijras have ceremonial and spiritual significance. These cultures didn’t judge—they recognised the gift: The ability to experience the world through both gender perspectives.This duality was seen as a blessing, not a problem.

So why does it seem like gender fluidity is “on the rise”? Maybe it’s not new—maybe it’s returning. Maybe humanity is being asked to evolve. To grow beyond our conditioning, to accept our quirks and those of others, to soften the hard lines we’ve drawn around identity. To stop dividing what was always meant to be fluid.

Let’s pause before we judge or before we get angry at what we don’t understand.

What beliefs shape my judgment? Where do they come from? Who taught me to hate what is different?

Now imagine the strength it takes to live openly as someone who defies the binary. To walk through a world where judgment follows every step. To hold your truth in the face of rejection, misunderstanding, or even violence. That takes more courage than most will ever know.

Historically, people who were “different”—whether in gender, perception, or ability—were often labelled as dangerous. During medieval times, those who displayed intuition, healing gifts, visions, or anything beyond the norm were tortured, burned, or executed, especially under the rule of the Church.

Why? Because they couldn’t be controlled. Because their existence challenged power.Those with gifts were seen as a threat to religious and social systems built on conformity. The unknown became “evil.” And what couldn’t be explained became feared.

Today, we are slowly emerging from that shadow. And still—so many carry the weight of that inherited fear.

This painting holds space for the in-between.

The two pairs of eyes—one pair sees as a woman, the other as a man. For the observer, this can feel confusing or uncomfortable. Which gaze do we meet? But imagine how it feels to live with both—every single day.

The black-painted face—a symbol of the “black sheep,” the outsider. Not lesser. Just other. Misunderstood.

The beard and breasts—coexisting without apology. One body. Two truths.

The flower crown and feathers—are symbols of divinity, softness, wildness, and deep spiritual freedom.

This work isn’t about promoting one way of being over another. It’s about witnessing. Honouring those whose very existence teaches us how to be for what we are, see more clearly, love more deeply, and question what we think we know.

Let them be. Let yourself be. Let us all learn to see with both pairs of eyes.