So, on a random night last week, I was going through my nightly routine of taking my makeup off, washing my face, then applying some serum and lotion before getting into bed. Heather was standing next to me in front of the mirror when I noticed something. It’s something that has become more common by the day, but for some reason it stood out to me this night. What was this increasingly common visitor? A smile. I wasn’t thinking of anything particularly joyful. I wasn’t retelling a funny joke in my head. I just smiled for no reason whatsoever.
I’ve obviously smiled before throughout the period of my life in when I lived behind a mask. The day I married the love of my life. The days Reagan and Abby were born. Those moments of levity with friends. But smiling for no apparent reason…now that’s a foreign concept to me. I had always hated my smile because it always seemed so forced. Turns out it looked like that because it was forced. As I stood in front of that mirror, though, I saw a smile that was beaming. I saw a beautiful and confident woman staring back at me…and an even more beautiful woman to my left. 😉 I saw me.
This led my mind to wander down many different rabbit trails, but the trail that dominated my thinking was about what I’ve heard many say for oh so many years.
“It’s a mental illness!”
“You’d never tell an anorexic person to continue to starve themselves, would you?!”
“There’s a reason so many kill themselves!”
“They’re freaks!”
For 40 years, I’ve heard these and similar comments. I’ve had to listen to them in silence. I wanted to speak up. I wanted to scream out that these comments hurt. That the memes you shared on Facebook, sadly by many who sit in church pews on Sunday mornings, are like daggers. But silence was my only option, for the fear of outing myself was simply too great. Words hurt. They are often far more damaging than physical wounds. Down this rabbit trail my mind ran. Then I realized that the answer to all of those statements could be found in that smile reflecting back towards me from the mirror. For so many years, I felt forced to live in silence. Now my life screams who I am. I am happy, and more solid in my faith than ever. The ignorance or, even worse, the bigotry of others cannot change that.
Now, though, the dynamic has flipped. Where I was once silent while others raised their voices without hesitation against the transgender community, my life now screams my existence as many of those same people are silent. Those who have not reached out…at all…since coming out. Perhaps they’re silent because they know me, and don’t want to offend. They claim to love us. They’re related to us. Whatever their reason, they’re silent nonetheless. Where my silence once was a way of hiding for myself, perhaps they believe their silence will hide them. Will allow them to not “pick a side”. It won’t. I see you. Your silence hurts, but your silence will not keep my life from shouting out. Your silence is just as loud as those who, like one of Heather’s cousins, lashed out at me with vile hate-filled bigotry. In fact, in that situation, your silence was even louder and more hurtful. Your silence won’t hide you. I see you.
If being transgender is a “mental illness”, as many erroneously claim, then does my joy and contentment since coming out not reveal this claim to be false? If being transgender leads to suicide, does the lack of depression and suicidal ideation since coming out not reveal that simply being transgender is not the source of my depression and suicidal ideation? And does the fact that the suicidal ideation has all but vanished as I’ve been loved and accepted by so many for the woman I am, not reveal that the true source of the alarmingly high rate of suicide in the trans community is not our identity, but the rejection of our identity?
I stood in front of that mirror with a genuine smile for no reason at all. And in that smile, I saw the response to all the hate-filled comments I’ve seen and heard throughout my life. I now see me. And in your silence, I now see you. ***One final note: I'm not demanding you affirm my decision. I'm demanding that you affirm my humanity. I had a preacher reach out to me on social media and, while he does not affirm my decision to transition, he also showed nothing but love and compassion since he couldn't possibly comprehend the pain I've suffered. He didn't deny my pain, but he affirmed his love for me and my identity as his sister-in-Christ. That is how it is done. Silence is not.