I am too.
I wish I could wake up in some other universe where I’ve always been a woman. I know it’s stupid, and maybe not healthy to keep thinking about.
Motivations for this thought are probably how unwilling some are to accept transgender women as women. Or how I would have to risk my family in order to transition. Or how scary transition really is for me.
Most of the time, I think I’m just crazy. Why do I have to feel this way. So basically I just beat myself up. Then I read material that supports this line of thinking. Talking about how we get “confused” about our gender. Talking about how at the end of the day the sin here is envy as though the author knew what it was our experience was like. Or as though they knew exactly what it was that made us tick.
There was mention of how all we would need is hormones consistent with our gender and some therapy in a good church. Healing from God. I think it is wrong for someone to expect God to be performing healing on someone else. I know this might be a weird thing to say. But let’s imagine the scenario. A pastor expects you to be healed from your transgender thoughts. Those thoughts he tells you–are impure. Now this is a pastor who has found righteousness so there’s not much questioning him–sure you can object but he’s already decided for himself and his version of your God that you are in the wrong. Maybe you are but it shouldn’t be him to tell you that you are. God allows us to be led places–like “He leads us to green pastures.” That sounds like a nice place to be doesn’t it? Not much green in this pasture that this pastor is leading you to is there? You’re now in the desert. There’s a cactus, you, and God. The only way out is God. You can’t seem to find this version of God so you’re left with a cactus.
So then you’re there chewing on this cactus with the needles poking everywhere. The pastor is asking you if you found water. You say yes, that God has provided you with water. There’s no point in complaining about the needles though. That is your own fault. There isn’t anything explicit here that tells you suffering is the means of deliverance but there’s an implication that God’s love is tough love. He asks you if you’re healed. You feel no different from before but you want out of the desert, you want to be left alone and don’t want to talk about your pain. You don’t want to admit that you haven’t received the deliverance promised. The failure of the mechanism is clearly you–the one of little faith. God doesn’t fail you–you fail God. (Or perhaps–out of accordance with this pastor–this isn’t something God was truly asking of you to begin with.) You feel shame that your faith wasn’t enough for God to deliver you from this evil. Yet God says to let his children come to him. Why is this pastor holding you back?
Why is your God silent and His God so talkative? Why are you in the shroud of darkness and deaf but your guide so receptive? I’m not sure what I’m really getting at. I just want to be there for you for a moment. I’m here in this weird void visiting you for a moment. So are you sure this is your God too? It sounds like you can’t even hear him. If God loves you you should feel His light shine down on you. Why is this pastor portraying a different God? A god that maybe you can’t connect with.
I don’t know why. I’m confused. And maybe you are too?