4/27/2021 0 Comments April 27th, 2021Isolation. It's something you don't really understand that you're experiencing until you're not isolated anymore. I always knew that I was isolated (and sheltered) to an extent growing up, but I didn't know how isolated I was. Growing up, the few friendships I had were superficial. I didn't recognize that at the time, especially with my long-time childhood best friend, Ishmael (not his real name. Don't want him to be possibly doxxed). I cared for him greatly, and still do care for him, despite not being in contact anymore. I miss the guy if I'm being completely honest, but that's for another long overdue post another day. Thing is though, I couldn't let him get close to me. I couldn't let him know that I was really a girl. It was something constantly on my mind as I hung out and talked with him and pretended to be a cis-gender male who viewed myself as a higher being than women. I set myself to trying to prove my masculinity around him and other friends I made. Degrade women (because, maybe, if you degrade women, that will mean I stop identifying as one, at least, I hoped. Wow was I an idiot.), play tackle football at church with no pads or helmets because "it's manly." All those hours of playing first person shooters and Super Smash Bros. Brawl. Those hours of trying to convince myself that I wanted to be a husband to fit in with the others assigned male at birth (and all the while trying to shove back the thought that if I were to ever marry I would much rather be the wife). All this led to isolation as a child. I had to keep up a wall to keep from worse abuse, bullying, and just to fit in at all. I wasn't close to anyone. No one truly knew much about me. In fact, I usually made stuff up to keep up the charade of being a cis-gender male. If I was struggling with anything, I had no one to go to for anything. I had no one I could be honest with, no one I could be anything more than superficial with. It didn't help that I was being abused at home. My parents are (and were) quite respected. My family appeared to be perfect to everyone. I couldn't tell anyone about the abuse I was recieving. Who would believe me? Plus, if my parents found out, things might get worse. It isolated me even more, having to not only hide my identity, but my home life as well.
My family eventually moved from Ohio to Indiana (August 2013). The first few years I was even more isolated. This was when I finally discovered that I was trans, my parents found out, and I started conversion therapy. During this time I had no friends. Mind you, I have always been homeschooled. Never been a part of a formal schooling setting. My family wasn't going to church, I was homeschooled in a small town, I had no one to talk to even superficially. I remember at one point me and my sisters didn't even leave our property for several months. That's how isolated I became. It only got worse during conversion therapy, where my walls were built higher, I wanted nothing to do with society, and drove straight into the deepest denial I could muster of my trans identity. I tried my best to be a "manly man" and love being a man. I said the most horrible things I could muster about the LGBT community in hopes that if I could be vile towards my own community I would just stop being trans. When that didn't work I took on misogynistic views in hopes it would make me proud of being a man. I was constantly "praying the trans sway." So many hours spent feverishly asking God to make me a cis-gender man. These things only made me more miserable. My dysphoria rose, I started feeling touch starved, I became suicidal, and at one point was demonically oppressed. I nearly drowned twice in the span of three days, and never swam again (summer of 2014 or 2015, can't remember exactly). In the meantime, the abuse I was recieving kept steadily getting worse and I was going through puberty, an already rough time with the added problem of being trans. I was isolated. I was miserable, struggling, and had no one to turn to for help. I had started internalizing the message from parents, pastors, and other Christians that I was a sub-human monster who was nothing more than a vessel prepared for God's wrath destined for hell just because I identified as a woman. I felt isolated from not only humanity, but God. Now I'm an adult. I'm isolated from my church, having to hide my identity from a non-affirming church that regularly preaches how LGBT people are sinful for being LGBT, while sitting there in the audience wanting to kill myself because of how strong my dysphoria is, viewing myself as a hell-bound sub-human monster. I had no friends. I had no real relationship with anyone in my family. I wasn't talking to God much. I felt completely alone. I believed that I deserved it. Because I was trans, this is what I got. Why should I have a single good thing if I'm trans, a disgusting sub-human pervert? Sometime during all this I got my first job at Lifeway Christian Bookstores. The official bookstore of the Southern Baptist Convention. A decidedly anti-LGBT denomination, and a denomination I very much disagreed with theologically (especially it's strong belief in Calvinism), and only disagree with more as time goes on. While there I met a few people who would change my life. (None of the names I will list are their real names to help protect identities) I had four co-workers in particular who changed me in different ways. Samuel, Danielle, Josephine (who we will refer to as "Jo" from here out), and Amber. Samuel was the only one I hit it off with early on. He knew how to bring a smile to my face and get me to laugh and have a good time. Let me tell you, that was no small feat at the time. I was quite emotionally dead by this time, and suicidal, so being around someone who could bring me to life, so to speak, was almost magical and quite good for me. It was also delightful to be able to actually question theology that was considered orthodox in the Christian church around him. I was used to having to keep my doubts and theological challenges to myself. That, and listening to Joel Osteen sermons to try and find heresy will always be a blast. One last recollection I may: he is why I will always love "Surrounded (Fight My Battles)" by Michael W. Smith. While we don't speak much anymore, still absolutely love the guy and when I think about him, pray. It's been amazing to hear about his ministry and how God is using him. A true man of God that I am glad to have gotten to know. I was scared of Danielle at first. She was the third in command at the store, and I didn't think she liked me. I did whatever I could to stay away from her. Then, she got pregnant, I got convinced that she liked me even less (must have heard me laughing at some jokes aimed towards her. Ones that I will never admit laughing to). Then she went on maternity leave, right as the holidays were picking up full steam (I swear she purposely got pregnant when she did just to avoid the holiday crowds), and came back as the store was about to close and therefore go into store-wide clearance sales. While she had been gone, I had been promoted to a keyholder position (didn't really want it, but I didn't trust anyone else in the store to do well as keyholder, so I begrudgingly took it), and was tasked with helping getting her re-acquainted with keyholder duties. This is when I discovered that she in fact, did not hate me. After this realization, we started hitting it off, and I eventually came out to her as trans. One of the first people I ever came out to. I sucked at coming out at the time. I told her I needed prayer (I didn't actually think I needed prayer, due to how I believed I was destined to hell, but at the time I couldn't think of another way to start a coming out discussion), and awkwardly told her I was trans. At this time, my dysphoria was seriously ramping up. It had gotten so bad I had no choice but to come out. I thought, that since it was a Christian store, everyone would hate me for it, and I would end up killing myself over the rejection. But, on the other hand, I would kill myself if I didn't come out, so I decided to take the chance that maybe they wouldn't reject me, because as I saw it, I was probably killing myself no matter what. Anyway, when I finally told her, she said "alright, thanks for trusting me." I was stunned. All my life I had been rejected or "accepted" but treated as an "other" after coming out. Just having someone accept it and be cool with it was beyond shocking and I genuinely couldn't believe that happened. I spent the next few days trying to come up with any reason to try and ask her why because it was so unbelievable to me. Anyway, the store eventually closed, and we still sorta, kinda keep in touch today. I've been to her church a few times and seen her husband's band (links to his band's music below) play in (small) churches and a backyard concert a few times. So, we still see each other once in a blue moon. But yeah, she changed my life. Because of her, I am still alive. If she had reacted any differently, almost certainly, I would have been six feet under years ago. Then there's Josephine, a ray of sunshine. She annoyed the hell out of me. Heck, she sometimes angered me. She was always too happy, too joyful, and was too spiritually strong. I hated her for it sometimes, and other times I was merely highly annoyed by it. When you're suicidal, and have virtually no relationship with God because you have been lied to about how your gender identity is a sin, seeing someone who clearly was strong in the spirit and was clearly bearing fruit was beyond angering. Today I have the wisdom to recognize that it showed just how far from God I truly was. The fact that I could hate someone just because they were quite filled with the spirit and it showed just by being around them, much less talking to them. I was far from God. Quite far. But yes, she is one of the few people that I could immediately tell that there was something different about. Just the way she carried herself, her constant smile on her face, the joy she exuded. It was sickening. At least at the time. Now, it's goals. Now I see her as an example of how I should be. Someone who you can tell, just by looking at me, that something is different. Someone others hate for being joyful and so obviously producing the fruits of the spirit. Just a few days ago I was looking at the fruits of the spirit, and realized how, even if I were to be quite generous to myself, I was far, far away from being fruitful. So, I am quite a long way from really producing fruit. I guess I am early in my spiritual journey, having only gotten back in good terms with God about a year ago, so maybe in a year it will be a different story. We'll see. Then, there's Amber. She's also one of the first people I came out to and another person I could tell was different just by looking at her. She was the definition of sweet. At my church, there was a group of little old ladies who just by looking would stunned weren't dead yet, but also, just by looking could tell were women of God. Their aura was nothing but pure joy and love. In fact, they exuded so much love and joy I almost can't believe that they were human. They were always serving others, preparing for fellowship time, preparing Wednesday night potlucks (if there is one thing I miss about being part of a church, it's eating meals together. You really got to know others), helping in the nursery (I still remember one of them handing me a cup of cheerios while in the nursery. Without a doubt it's my earliest memory), and other things. Amber is one of those little old ladies, but young. What I'm saying is, when she's old and little, she will be remembered just as fondly as those little old ladies at my childhood church. I loved Amber to death for it. Especially after coming out to her. She was fully on board and helped me. She took me on my first shopping trip for women's clothing. Still have the full outfit I bought and still love it. She's the first I ever presented as a woman in front of. She pushed me greatly to improve myself and embrace my identity, which helped me get into a slightly more healthy spot. Even though we haven't talked in years, I still love her to death for how loving she was and her support and pushing me to truly accept my identity. I wouldn't be here today without her. After the store closed I went several months without a job. Eventually, I got two. One at my local library and one at a Salvation Army Thrift Store. From both jobs people who were important to helping me feel less isolated were found. Their names are Heather (this is her real name. She runs a blog, and actually interviewed me on it, a link to the blog will be at the end of the article), Mel, and Morgan, and Marissa (the last three names are not their real names, for privacy reasons, of course). I will start with Heather. Heather was one of my early coming outs. At this point I had the experience of coming out to almost everyone at the bookstore except for the manager, assistant manager, and a fellow keyholder who we will call "Graham" who was southern baptist and I often argued with over theology. She was accepting right off the bat. This helped give me confidence to out myself to everyone who worked on the sales floor (I didn't come out to the backroom workers). While Heather and I weren't that much of friends while I worked there, after I left we talked a lot more. We even went to a local mall last summer and hung out, talked, she helped me figure out women's fashion, and ate at a restaurant called Thai Kitchen (and someone I knew who decided to visit the mall that day saw me and her together and thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend and told my family. I wasn't supposed to be there, I had lied and told my family that I had picked up an extra shift at work, so believe me, I had a lot of lies to make up while on the way home, and they actually all worked, surprisingly). It was the first time as an adult I actually got to "hang out" with a friend really. It was amazing. I felt alive, as scared as I was to be doing it. She and I talk somewhat regularly. I have been working on being more open and trying to contact her more regularly, because believe me, I suck at keeping in contact and being a friend isn't something that's natural to me. So, it's a lot of work for me, but it's been well worth it, building this relationship with someone who accepted me early on and helped me out in soany ways, such as giving me some clothes while I was homeless. I know you're going to see this Heather, and I just want you to know that I could never thank you enough or do enough to repay what you have done for me. Thank you. Love you girl. Mel and Marissa I will discuss together because I haven't spent the most amount of time with them, but they still impacted my life in amazing ways and really helped end my feelings of isolation (plus, I'm running out of steam. I keep having to take several hour breaks because of how long this is taking to write. Seriously, it's been over two hours now writing this article, I can't keep up this writing energy on one article for much longer). Mel was the first person who really helped me stop feeling isolated. Because of her I stopped seeing myself as sub-human. She treated me with so much respect, always had an open ear. I wouldn't be alive without her. Marissa showed up later at my library stint. She's the only one on this list who started a relationship with me only after I started transitioning. She was immediately supportive. She took me out several times to find women's clothing. She allowed me to have stuff sent to her house while homeless. She was always encouraging me to fully embrace my identity, to start presenting at work, and to fully embrace my femininity. The thing that most impacted me was when I finally lost it. I was done being abused. I had to leave. I had no other choice. She sat there, held me, and called the YWCA and gave me the strength to talk to them so I could leave my parents. God only knows what would have happened to me if she hadn't gotten me to call the YWCA. I thank her sincerely and because of that alone there is a debt I could never repay. Finally, there's Mel. I came out to her at the library about a month before I called the clinic to set up an appointment to begin transitioning. She let me know that if I ever needed anyone to talk to, she was there for me. Of course I didn't message her. I made her message me a month later, a few days before Christmas to see how I was doing. Then the floodgates began opening. Slowly, but I did begin to open up to her. Finally, it was time to drive up an hour and a half to the informed consent clinic to begin transitioning. She drove me up to the clinic. She was there to support me. It was so needed. Especially at the end walking out knowing that my prescription was waiting for me at Walmart. I did a little dance in her passenger seat and struggled to calm down. She was there and let me celebrate. I got to share the joy with someone else. It was so needed and did me much good. Even after that, she's been there providing much needed advice, prayer, and emotional support while transitioning, losing jobs, and being homeless. She's been a major source of strength. So many times when I thought I couldn't go any more, and she would be there or push me to keep on. She was so needed, and God had her and I meet at just the right time. I thank God for her. She's been a major blessing in so many ways. For her, I couldn't even imagine trying to repay what she's done for me. In fact, I often feel like a leech to be honest. So, I pray for them, for many blessings and for them to prosper in many ways. Financially, emotionally, with friends, marriage, and family, etc. I pray for health, and for wisdom for raising her two kids. I pray for other things as well, simply because I cannot even begin to imagine what I could do to even begin repayment. She may be the biggest reason why I don't feel isolated anymore, at least, in real life. Then, there's my friend Esther (not her real name for privacy reasons). I met her through Discord. We have never met in real life. She lives in Oklahoma, I live in Ft. Wayne, IN. That said, I love her dearly. I love her as a sister. She is also a Christian trans woman. She is a few years younger, but started transitioning a few months before I did. We both come from conservative families who weren't accepting at first. We're both oddballs who knew we were trans from our earliest days, and never had many friends and the ones we did have were superficial. We both were very isolated. We started hitting it off. First through Discord, then over Snapchat, then Signal, then texting, now a mixture of texting and Signal. I never knew how much I needed to truly be understood. To have someone else understand being trans in a conservative social circle. To have dysphoria over many of the same things, to have similar experiences, etc. Two trannies who started off in conservative families and ended up being Marxist Christians who believe every heretical view about Christianity there is (I'm kidding. We don't, but evangelicals would think we do). It's nice not having to educate someone on my struggles as a trans person, knowing someone who just gets it. Who understands my struggles as a trans woman. I love my cis-gender friends, but man, it can be exhausting having to educate them sometimes on how I'm struggling due to being trans or trans issues in general. It's so beyond freeing and wonderful to know someone who just gets it. So many times I hide things from cis-gender friends because they just don't "get it." I don't have to from Esther. She understands. Plus, through her I have learned how to be a better friend and how to build a real relationship. One where I truly, genuinely care about her. One where she and I will message each other over the small struggles and victories as well as the big ones. I feel a closeness that I never felt before, and likely never will. I'm so beyond thankful for God letting me meet her. I needed her quite terribly, even if I didn't know it, and she was the first one who really, truly helped me feel less isolated. Anyway, as you can see, I am no stranger to isolation. It was rough growing up. That said, in some ways, I am thankful for it. It made me who I am today. I don't take friendships or any kind of relationship for granted. It's something I deeply cherish because I can remember a time without them. I am so thankful for that time of total isolation being over. God knew who to introduce in my life at the right times. For that, I will be eternally grateful. Thank you Lord. Danielle's husbands' band "Crimson Letters": https://open.spotify.com/artist/7l6nmAgjrvCJuGDoB4t9IB Heather's Blog: https://expresscreativity730075915.wordpress.com/
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AuthorHi! I'm Anna, a currently transitioning transgender woman! I started my blog "Ramblings of a Trans Woman" as therapy for gender and identity issues and abuse from my parents and church. Hopefully, someone else out there can get something from this. If you want to talk, just get in contact with me, there's plenty of ways how and we'll discuss the best way to talk! Archives
June 2022
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