Thoughts on Childhood in the Church
I am going to put my Transgender Friends series on hold for a few days. My friend Valerie wants to come out. Her real name is Donna Marie. So the person I’ve been referring to as "Valerie" from now on will be referred to as "Donna." Anyway, Donna started a spirituality page to add to her homepage and profile. Reading this page, and talking to Donna about growing up transgender in the church, has been another one of those emotional experiences.
I don’t know why I get so emotional about this subject. For some reason, I get extremely emotional about men who want to be women or feel they are women trapped in the wrong body. I got so emotional over Rev. Erin Swenson’s story that I’m absolutely useless as far as being able to be involved in More Light Presbyterians. When I read her story, I realized how intense my friendship with Robin had been. Robin is a transgender friend from the past with whom I’d gone through the whole transition, including surgery. Now that Donna is opening up, I’m getting very emotional about her story. I’m also finding myself looking at my own past in a new way.
As a feminist, I tend to look at experiences such as growing up in the church as a burden. I think back to how I was supposed to dress at Easter or Christmas or for a wedding, and I think, "What a drag that girls had to go through all that!" I’m so glad I’m a liberated woman now. I’m glad I didn’t have to marry some man. I’m glad I go to Round Hill on Saturday night where the dress is casual. I’m glad I go to Sixth Presbyterian on Sunday where I can dress any way I want. I’m so glad to look around and see a half-dozen or so lesbians in the congregation who don’t have to worry about wearing a dress.
Until I started meeting male-to-female transgender friends again, I used to get very anxious when I’d get invited to a wedding or baby shower. I wrote a paper for my English class on what a burden it is to be a female with all these social obligations. It hasn’t been that long since I told my cousin Jane, "I was born the wrong sex." Thanks to my TG friends, I just went to a baby shower and had a wonderful time and fit right in. They have really helped me to appreciate the right to be female. However, I did say another strange thing at the shower to my cousin Jane and to my cousin-in-law Nancy. Nancy is married to my cousin Ross who is as male as they get. He is such a man’s man that I never thought he’d get married. All of us were surprised when he met a girl and got married. Ross and I get along well because we both jog. All I ever talk about with him is jogging.
Anyway, Nancy and Jane were in a discussion about the fact that Amber already knows her baby is a girl. Nancy said she was so glad that when she had her son and daughter, she did not know ahead of time what gender the child would be. I rendered Jane and Nancy speechless when I commented, "So that’s what’s wrong with me. My mother spent her whole pregnancy thinking I was a boy." They chuckled knowingly, so they know something’s different about me. I’d love to know what they all think it is! I know Rev. Meek knows something is different about me, because he’s being very careful at church not to criticize homosexuals or Democrats.
Anyway, my mother had a name picked out for me. It was David Eugene. They had also considered Diane, Laurel, and Laurie in case I was a girl. But the whole time my mother was pregnant, she thought David Eugene was in there kicking. So when I was born, my mother said I screamed. Then, I said a swear word as a very young child at Round Hill. So maybe that was David Eugene who was responsible for all that mischief. It doesn’t fully explain things, because they thought my sister was surely a boy. They had some name like Gregory Edward picked out for her. But she turned out totally feminine, heterosexual, Republican, and a born-again Christian, and she produced three lovely children.
Anyway, reading Donna’s story growing up in the church, and talking to her about it, as I did last night online, makes me appreciate the fact that I had the right to be a girl as a child. Donna never had that right. Church was a very big part of my childhood. I had the right to all those pretty dresses, hats, shoes, purses. I had the right to have my hair done. I had the right to wear a bra when I developed breasts. I had the right to wear makeup when I was a teenager. I had the right to spray on some perfume. I had the right to wear fresh flowers. I had the right to be pretty. And I have to admit, if I’m honest, that I sometimes enjoyed having these rights. Donna never had the right to be pretty. She had to be a little boy, watching girls having the right to do all the things she truly wanted to do. And she had to feel guilty and sinful about her true feelings. She had to fear that she was going to Hell for eternity for feeling this way.
Until I started to hear stories like this from people who are men or were men, I never looked at it in this way. The more I hear, the more I look back at my own childhood and see it in a totally different light.
To be continued…
I don’t know why I get so emotional about this subject. For some reason, I get extremely emotional about men who want to be women or feel they are women trapped in the wrong body. I got so emotional over Rev. Erin Swenson’s story that I’m absolutely useless as far as being able to be involved in More Light Presbyterians. When I read her story, I realized how intense my friendship with Robin had been. Robin is a transgender friend from the past with whom I’d gone through the whole transition, including surgery. Now that Donna is opening up, I’m getting very emotional about her story. I’m also finding myself looking at my own past in a new way.
As a feminist, I tend to look at experiences such as growing up in the church as a burden. I think back to how I was supposed to dress at Easter or Christmas or for a wedding, and I think, "What a drag that girls had to go through all that!" I’m so glad I’m a liberated woman now. I’m glad I didn’t have to marry some man. I’m glad I go to Round Hill on Saturday night where the dress is casual. I’m glad I go to Sixth Presbyterian on Sunday where I can dress any way I want. I’m so glad to look around and see a half-dozen or so lesbians in the congregation who don’t have to worry about wearing a dress.
Until I started meeting male-to-female transgender friends again, I used to get very anxious when I’d get invited to a wedding or baby shower. I wrote a paper for my English class on what a burden it is to be a female with all these social obligations. It hasn’t been that long since I told my cousin Jane, "I was born the wrong sex." Thanks to my TG friends, I just went to a baby shower and had a wonderful time and fit right in. They have really helped me to appreciate the right to be female. However, I did say another strange thing at the shower to my cousin Jane and to my cousin-in-law Nancy. Nancy is married to my cousin Ross who is as male as they get. He is such a man’s man that I never thought he’d get married. All of us were surprised when he met a girl and got married. Ross and I get along well because we both jog. All I ever talk about with him is jogging.
Anyway, Nancy and Jane were in a discussion about the fact that Amber already knows her baby is a girl. Nancy said she was so glad that when she had her son and daughter, she did not know ahead of time what gender the child would be. I rendered Jane and Nancy speechless when I commented, "So that’s what’s wrong with me. My mother spent her whole pregnancy thinking I was a boy." They chuckled knowingly, so they know something’s different about me. I’d love to know what they all think it is! I know Rev. Meek knows something is different about me, because he’s being very careful at church not to criticize homosexuals or Democrats.
Anyway, my mother had a name picked out for me. It was David Eugene. They had also considered Diane, Laurel, and Laurie in case I was a girl. But the whole time my mother was pregnant, she thought David Eugene was in there kicking. So when I was born, my mother said I screamed. Then, I said a swear word as a very young child at Round Hill. So maybe that was David Eugene who was responsible for all that mischief. It doesn’t fully explain things, because they thought my sister was surely a boy. They had some name like Gregory Edward picked out for her. But she turned out totally feminine, heterosexual, Republican, and a born-again Christian, and she produced three lovely children.
Anyway, reading Donna’s story growing up in the church, and talking to her about it, as I did last night online, makes me appreciate the fact that I had the right to be a girl as a child. Donna never had that right. Church was a very big part of my childhood. I had the right to all those pretty dresses, hats, shoes, purses. I had the right to have my hair done. I had the right to wear a bra when I developed breasts. I had the right to wear makeup when I was a teenager. I had the right to spray on some perfume. I had the right to wear fresh flowers. I had the right to be pretty. And I have to admit, if I’m honest, that I sometimes enjoyed having these rights. Donna never had the right to be pretty. She had to be a little boy, watching girls having the right to do all the things she truly wanted to do. And she had to feel guilty and sinful about her true feelings. She had to fear that she was going to Hell for eternity for feeling this way.
Until I started to hear stories like this from people who are men or were men, I never looked at it in this way. The more I hear, the more I look back at my own childhood and see it in a totally different light.
To be continued…
posted by Theodosia @ 5:20 AM
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