God Is Transgender

I have a hard time gaining acceptance as a transgender woman. I knew that there were going to be moments that would define my relationships as I came more and more outward. There are many different ways that people accept who I am or do not accept who I am as there are differences in personalities and the relationships. Each accepting person gives me warmth and happiness, and rejecting person gives me shame and sadness.

We categorize our relationships. Honestly, I'm not sure who I am speaking for when I saw 'we categorize'. I think in general most people do that though. Like, we hold our partners, spouses, and children up high, then we value our parents and other family, then best friends, friends, acquaintances, work colleagues, class peers, etc.

Once you begin to change as a growing individual, everything you once knew about the relationships in your life will be in question. You don't even have to change yourself. Other factors can change that are not even in your control, and the people around you will react and you will see and feel it.

A very big example of people changing despite anything that was in my control was when my daughter passed, my roommates at the time could not handle it. Even though it was not my fault that she passed. It was nobody's fault. There was nothing that could have been done to prevent it. It happened. The result was them displaying cruelty towards me and my partner. It was horrible because while our souls were broken with grief, we were being met with fierce hostility from our roommates whom of which we considered to be family at the time.

While immersed in a deep state of grief, our home became a horribly toxic environment for reasons I still do not understand to this day. I couldn't imagine why people would treat grieving parents the way they did. I could only chalk it up to the factors that I could see and make sense of. I don't think they are bad people. I cherish the good times I had with them, and, as with all people I have crossed paths with in this world, I miss them. I miss the good times we had. I really think that, in the simplest terms, they felt bad for us, and they didn't know how to handle it.

When I first had even thought about my transgender innermost self, I dismissed it. I was nineteen years old. I told myself there would be no possible way I could even humor those thoughts or desires, because in order to do that, I would have to run away, leave everybody and everything I know behind and start a new life. It wasn't until much later that I discovered that being myself was worth far more than the courage it took to do so.

I knew that coming out as transgender was going to be a social risk by all accounts. I knew what I was putting at stake. I knew what I was sacrificing, although it didn't feel like too significant of a sacrifice given that I never really felt like I fit in or I was accepted anyway. Sure transitioning would make me an outcast but not much more of an outcast than I already was.

Here is what surprised me, when I came out to my mother; she thought it was something that was just a thought or an idea more so than it was an actualization, like she was hoping it was a phase that I would move on from. That never happened though, in fact it was quite the opposite. I continued on and on down my path, and when I finally had gotten fed up with her ignoring this very true reality, I had to make it known that I am a transwoman and nothing is changing that.

Her reaction was one of the most hurtful experiences I have ever had with her. The conversation felt like she was holding her hands over her ears, and I had to force her hands away so that I can be heard. I suffer from PTSD from severe emotional trauma so intense situations give me horrible anxiety. When I told her that I am trans she cried howling, as if she were somehow being victimized, not upset with me, but upset for herself. She was upset that she wasn't going to have a grandchild again, and had even went on to say that she wished I had knocked up a woman that I had a terribly toxic relationship with. That was a very unfair thing to say, and an awful position to put me in. There was no real closure or outcome to this discussion. It was me summoning up the courage to tell her she needs to try to stop invalidating me and just accept me, and her reaction was to have a complete child-like meltdown until she began screaming so loud, I couldn't take it, and I just had to walk away.

And that was it. We never had a discussion on the subject again. I certainly was not going to ever bring it up with her again. If you categorized every memory you had into two categories; good memories, and bad memories, the conversation I had with my mother was a very bad memory, and a defining point in our relationship.

I was living with my parents, but not really by my own choice. There were a ton of factors involved in my life at that point in time. For so long, I wanted to get out of my parents house. I was financially pinned down from being able to do that. I had affairs that needed to be sorted before I could move out. I was stuck, miserably stuck, and not getting any help at all. All the while, my relationship with my parents was getting worse and worse and worse. It got so bad that I needed to just go. My disordered affairs were no longer a priority over my mental well being. I had to go.

A co-worker offered me a room in his home. I was extremely grateful for this opportunity, and looking forward to finally having peace in my life, and comfort. I was not openly transgender at this point. A handful of people knew. I wanted to tell him about my transgenderism before the idea of being a roommate had even came up. So many times, I could have said something but I didn't have the courage. Every time I told somebody that I considered to be a friend that I am transgender, I risked that relationship entirely.

In a way, I could sense that he already knew that there was something different about me, and he would say things like "You deserve to have a place where you can just be yourself." I genuinely thought he was trying to cater to me. I have always been the type to respect people's boundaries. There is, admittedly, a lot of awkward moments in the early phases of transition, especially when the person transitioning is trying to figure it out themselves and I know this. I told him that I am transgender, but I wouldn't do anything to make him feel uncomfortable. I would suppress my true identity for his comfort, and he was fine with it.

After telling him this, he still allowed me to live there, he bought me a car with the condition that I make payments to him for it, we hung out and did things, worked on projects together, and as time went on, he would question my transgenderism in a way that made me feel like he was empathetic towards me. He made me feel like, he didn't want me to be suppressed, like he didn't want me to hide my true self behind closed doors. I considered us to be good friends by this point. He made me feel like his detection of the oppression of my true identity was actually creating a hinderance on our friendship, like friends should get to be themselves when they're with their friends. I was wrong.

I was entirely wrong. Whatever "green light to be myself" I thought I was picking up on was completely false. It was not the case at all. I slowly, yet still very conservatively began to come out, and at one point, I crossed the line. I was testing boundaries and, I guess I went too far. I was mislead into thinking I could or should be myself.

On a Tuesday morning, I was dispatched to a job site. Show up time was 7:30am as usual, I showed up and waited for my journeyman. I waited and waited. An hour and a half went by and I finally get a message from my boss, says that I need to go to a supply house pick up a will-call and bring it to another job. Okay, that's simple enough. When I got to the job-site, my boss was waiting there for me. My boss is also my step-dad.

He told me, "Leave your car here, and I need you to clock out and get in my truck."

By this point, I am confused, like so confused. I get in the truck and we start driving down the road.

- "Soooo, you gonna tell me what's going on?"

- "Well, Jason doesn't want you living with him anymore, so we're on our way right now to get your stuff and bring it back to my house."

- "What? Why??"

- "He says you freak him out. He came to me about a week ago and said he wanted you out and I told him to talk to you. He says if I don't get you out of there today, he's going to quit."

My very first thought was, yeah okay, as if he's not going to quit after what he's doing right now, you're high.

On that truck ride, was the very first time hearing about any of this. I was dumbfounded, hurt, surprised, in absolute shock. I never felt like I had such little control over my life at that point. Two people met up, conspired about me, and then formulated a plan for me, and I had no say. I didn't even know what was happening until it was happening.

We loaded up my stuff, some of which was conveniently already in the driveway, and I was brought right back to the home of my caring parents. I felt so humiliated being shipped off like an animal. I felt so much mistrust that I wasn't even told about the disposition my roommate had with me, even though my step-dad was well aware. I didn't get a chance to plead my case, defend myself, or even try to find some kind of understanding. Apparently, I wasn't worth that much. Not to Jason, nor to my step-dad.

The pain continued. I had to face coworkers who were naturally curious about what happened between him and I, so I essentially became forced to share my own humiliating story. To this day, I struggle to be at work without feeling a constant fear that I need to be looking over my shoulder for the next time that I might be swooped from my job, then unexpectedly evicted from my home again. I have to look closely at all my relationships trying to weed out the people who are friends to my face, yet hate me behind my back as to avoid anymore harrowing surprises from those I thought I could trust.

I was forced back into a place that I so desperately had tried to escape from. But, thanks to some amazing people in my life, I managed to get myself to a much better place, and I could not be happier.

If you think that after all the humility I have undergone for simply accepting myself, that I'm going to revert and conform, you are wholly wrong. I am not here to satisfy anybody's idea of who they think I am, or who they think I should be. I am not going to adhere to anybody's beliefs other than my own. I am a strong, smart, independent transwoman. I am proud of myself and who I am, and I am consistently striving to be better and do better. You take me as I am or you take a hike. It does not matter who you are, what religion you practice or what faith you preach, you will not deny me of who I am. I will not deny myself of who I am.

God created me in Her image with a plan unique like all others. I am here to be a transwoman just as God planned for me to do. I am here, a mortal sinner, just like everyone else. My place to be judged is not for another mortal, so stay in your own lane and out of my way. My relationship with Jesus is between Him and I, and it has nothing to do with you so don't worry about it. Worry about yourself. My place in the afterlife is where She decides.

The Divine Universe would never do badly to my soul. Hell is not the place for the kind woken hearts of transgender people. Jesus loves all His children unconditionally, and does not disapprove of me in anyway whatsoever. That is a fact, and one that I frankly will never argue simply because you cannot tell me the conditions of the relationship I have with Him because that's something that only I can know, just as your relationship with our Lord and Savior is strictly between you and Him.

If your faith, whatever it is you practice, tells you that Jesus or God doesn't love certain people based on any criteria whatsoever, you might want to reconsider your religion. We are all loved unconditionally. If you don't think I should be transgender, then you don't think I should be transgender. Don't drag your religion into it and tread your dirty tainted holy water on me, because you're not doing any justice at all for me, yourself, or Her.

Believe whatever you want to believe, I don't really care, but don't ever preach your hatred or disapproval through the twisted wicked scriptures you whole heartedly live by. You have criticisms of me, that's fine, but don't voice your opinions through the words of a higher power you have no business speaking for.

I am a transwoman, Accept me for who I am, Love me for who I am, just as God Herself does.