As a teen, before I ever went to a Pentecostal church, it started. I even remember where it started, outside my immediate family, and who it started with.
“Mary, look at his butt on the court!”
“Umm… OK”
“Don’t you think that’s sexy?!?!”
“Not particularly. He’s just a guy in shorts.”
“What, are you gay?”
Actually, I seriously doubt my response had anything to do with being gay. It was a bunch of scrawny teen boys on a court. We were in the balcony. We saw them every day, and I simply had no interest in them in general because I DID know them. The same ones who threw snowballs with rocks in them at me. The same ones who followed me down the halls trying to grab me inappropriately. No, why would anyone be interested in that?
The girl who asked was supposed to be my friend, but she was a bully… and she had a strong influence from Pentecostal churches herself. She treated me incredibly poorly throughout junior high and high school. And no one really noticed. Definitely no one, to my knowledge, ever tried to stop her.
I didn’t have but one boyfriend in high school, and he was a jerk. I enjoyed going out alone much more than being with a guy who snapped his fingers and pointed to the ground behind him, expecting me to follow him. And so the questions continued in my small school. Usually quietly, but always from the same group when they arose, and generally at times when everything seemed to be going well for me otherwise.
I didn’t associate it with church or religion at the time. 
In college, I joined a United Pentecostal church. Before I was even a member, the comments started.
“We wouldn’t have even known you were a girl, your hair short and you wearing pants like that.”
“Maybe you should wear a padded bra.”
“You just look so much like a boy!”
They’d tell me that I should spend more time with the ladies, but the ladies wouldn’t accept me and I didn’t relate well to their gender-divided culture. My parents and grandparents all shared work for the most part and interests and clothing colors weren’t divided by gender. I’d never been discouraged for learning to use hand tools or helping Dad work on the car (well, except maybe by Dad since my help usually led to extra work!) or playing cards “with the guys” rather than sitting in the living room “with the women.” We could choose what we wanted to do and who we wanted to be. We played with toy cars sometimes as well as dolls. There weren’t ‘boy colors’ and ‘girl colors’. (A church would later preach that if a man wore pink he was effeminate.) I wasn’t allowed to wear makeup or get my hair done or go on shopping trips; my parents often told those things were too expensive or I didn’t need them.
But at church… around these new friends, there was ‘something wrong’ with me if I didn’t fall right in line with a very different culture, one where women separated from the men and kept to themselves, where hair and clothes were a really big deal and actually part of identity, and shopping trips were not just a thing to do once in a while, but actual events. Big events. Out of town, overnight, look-forward-to-this events. I didn’t get it then and I don’t get it now. And yet repeatedly I was labeled or shamed because I didn’t conform. And often my sexuality or sexual orientation were questioned.
I never married and people now ask why. I never met a man in church who could look past the labels and see me, respect me, and love me. And so being single became a very good thing, because who’d want to marry someone who couldn’t?
Did their labels or shaming change me? Yes, but I believe for the better. The labels didn’t change who I was, nor did they force me to conform, but in time they did increase my empathy and acceptance of others. I guess all their efforts backfired on them. And I’m glad.
Shaming and labeling… the tools of any unhealthy group to force conformity and/or to dehumanize those who are different in order to isolate them. It’s easier to hurt “the gay” or “the Jezebel” or “sinners” of whatever sort than it is to hurt “Mary” or “Joe” or “Jane.” Mary and Joe and Jane are people with their own lives and stories, but “sinners” are “bad people”. And so, they shame to try to force conformity and when that doesn’t work, it’s a short jump to labeling… and it is much easier to bully, to shame, to isolate and mistreat “those bad people” than a human being. It is also easier to label them “bad” than to consider there might be another way than their own to exist. And sometimes… sometimes they’re simply jealous. After all, it must be frustrating and even frightening to think that the people they’ve labeled “bad” are happy, free, and confident individuals, especially if they are freer, happier, and more confident than those who are doing the labeling.
If you’ve been shamed or labeled, be encouraged. Don’t accept the labels and don’t try to conform. Instead, simply become a better person as a result of them, and keep being the wonderful individual you are meant to be. God made you YOU. And even if you are the girl who likes the pixie cut or the guy who enjoys wearing pink, be you. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re exactly who God made you to be.
