When My Strength Falters

I’ll be honest. I don’t know how much longer I can do it. I’m not talking about self-harm here, although that malevolent beast has been trying to pry itself back into my mind lately. I won’t let it though. My wife won’t let it. My children won’t let it. What I really mean is I don’t know how much longer I can try to be strong. Lately, it seems as though trans people are in the crosshairs and it forces me to sit here in awe of those who have been out and living as themselves for years. Awe of those who have used their voice for years, while dodging these unrelenting attacks on their very existence.

But now we’re at a dangerous time. The anti-trans crowd has begun to use the collective force of the state to bolster their attacks. We see it across the country, as 2021 has seen at least 82 different anti-trans bills proposed in the various statehouses across the country. In my home state of Texas, a bill (SB 1646) has been proposed that would redefine a parent consenting to life-saving affirming medical care for their trans child as “child abuse”. Keep in mind, there are countless studies showing the long-term psychological harm that comes from spanking, but that is perfectly allowable in the state of Texas. But let a parent consent to affirming medical care that’s recognized by virtually every major medical association in America, and all of a sudden the state wants to pretend to care about child abuse. North Carolina has even proposed banning trans-affirming medical care for anyone under 21. The writing is on the wall. Republicans across the country are just inching their way along until they eventually seek a ban of all trans-affirming medical care regardless of age.

In essence, what we’re seeing across the country is our existence being debated and voted upon by people who reject what the scientific and medical communities say on this subject. A prominent conservative voice wrote an entire piece on how to solve the “trans question”. As many people pointed out, when those in power start asking how to deal with the “[insert marginalized group here] question”, history has proven that to be an ominous dark cloud. His “compromise” would literally force me to use men’s restrooms regardless of where I find myself in America, and ban any discussion on trans-related subjects in schools. Another prominent conservative declared that transgender people are a “challenge to the perpetuation of the species”. Notorious culture warriors, Family Research Council, do not hide their end goal, which is a prohibition of all trans-affirming care, no legal recognition, no legal protections, and they continue to encourage torturous conversion therapy. Fox News has even aired 86 segments about trans people since Biden took office. The narrative is clear. Their desire is to eliminate us from society. No, I’m not saying they are seeking to kill us, although I have had fellow Christians declare that their goal was to bully me until I take my life. But they are working feverishly to push us to the extreme margins of society. **btw, here’s a great thread on some of the history of this push**

While this is bad enough, anyone who follows me (or any trans person) on Twitter, Facebook, etc can have front row seats to the relentless barrage of vile harassment we receive on a daily basis. The most alarming thing for me, as a trans woman and Christian, is that most of this comes from those who sit in church pews on Sunday mornings. I don’t know how many times I’ve had some person respond to me with intentional misgendering, comments on my appearance, slurs, etc. only to go check their profile and see “Husband. Father. Pastor” prominently on display. I have had pastors retweet me for no reason other than to alert their sycophants of my existence, and the pouncing will then soon commence. I have had a dear friend reach out to me privately to warn me that many of these same people (largely hailing from Southern Baptist/Reformed Baptist/1689 circles) were actually screenshotting comments she had made to me, while making vile comments about me. She was worried for me that I’d see them circulating. It’s all just so exhausting. It almost makes me think this would all be easier if I weren’t a person of faith. If I didn’t care what my brothers and sisters in Christ had to say about me. But I am a Christian. I do care about unity within the body of Christ. I do care when we fall short, myself included, of the command to love. It hurts even more knowing that my wife sees all of it as it plays out on social media.

But then I have to remind myself that for each one of these bigots who are known more for their misogyny, racism, transphobia, and homophobia, I’ve also encountered so much beauty in the church since I transitioned. I’ve had probably a dozen or so people who are where I used to be…Christian, married, and torn apart inside as they live a life that hides who they truly are. Heather and I have had the opportunity to talk with many of these couples, and hopefully provide some glimmer of hope that a marriage can survive transition. I’ve met so many amazing people of faith who have told me that they have become more accepting and loving from my unbelievably small, meager voice and story. I certainly don’t say that to pat myself on the back, but I have to continually remind myself that maybe my story has helped some people understand that you can be a transgender person while also having faith in Christ crucified.

Days like today, though, make me just want to curl up and cry. They make me send Heather messages that say that maybe the person really close to me is right when they say I should get off social media. They make me start to see why some trans people detransition. They make me feel as though I failed our marriage, and as a parent. They make me believe that I just don’t have the strength to deal with the daily torrent of abuse, whether from professed Christians on social media, or the slithery tentacles of a government that seems intent on driving me from society. I’m exhausted. I may not be tomorrow, but today I am. Today my strength falters, so I write. I try to find my strength through words outside of the arena of social media, where arrows fly from all directions. Tomorrow, though, I have to start it all over again. I know that, deep down, I can’t stop. I am not a prominent voice. There are so many trans people who are infinitely more well-versed in theology, in science,

in politics, in advocacy. But I know that no matter how small my voice may be, I have no choice but to muster the strength to use it. It’s about visibility. So what falters today will be refreshed tomorrow. I’m reminded of the school song at the fundamentalist school I grew up in. Fundie world left me with many deep spiritual and emotional wounds, but it also left with this seared into my memory:

He gives strength to the weary, And to the one who lacks might He increases power. Though youths grow weary and tired, And vigorous young men stumble badly, Yet those who wait for the Lord Will gain new strength; They will mount up with wings like eagles, They will run and not get tired, They will walk and not become weary.