In the days of my youth, I knew little of the meanings of terms such as the "religious right" and the "liberal left." I was taught to believe in a loving God, and I have begun to understand that this is the greatest fortune of my birth.
I was raised by parents who believed in a loving God. The religious right that is the subject of this blog is not the religious right that comes to mind to classify a particular brand of faith—what I am speaking of is my right to believe in a loving God.
It is a right that was stolen from me, but it is a right I have claimed once again.
I don't believe that is in my prerogative to force my religious beliefs on another, nor is it a requirement for anyone to embrace the spiritual nature of the universe. I also do not believe that the Creator of the universe would require someone to believe before they are worthy of unconditional love—adding the requirement of believing in God in order to qualify for unconditional love kind of negates the unconditional part. It is my right to believe in unconditional love.
Yet why is it that we are so eager to put conditions on God's unconditional love? You have to be straight. You can't be transgender. You have to be Christian. You have to believe. No, none of these things.
All that is required to receive God's love is to be, and if God loves you as you are, so should I.
During the first 30 years of my adult life, I came to believe in a God with whom I found no favor because I was transgender. "Just don't be that way"—this is the message of a dark religiousness, as though that idea never occurred to me. There is the reality of the tens of thousands of prayers I sent to God, asking to be fixed. Begging to be made right. Praying to be made whole.
If God created any of us, then God created me too. If God created me as a transgender human being, who is anyone to tell me that God didn’t do that? The question of dark religiousness is “Do you think God made a mistake?” My response is, "No, I don’t. Do you?"