For lack of a journal and for mess of thoughts in my head, this blog has come to fruition. This may not exactly be my safe space, but it will be a place to work myself through this period of my life.
I am Rachel. I am 33. I am a child of God. I am married to John. I am mother to Elly (born Owen) and Clayton. I'm a scathing perfectionist, a quick witted pessimist and a lover of language. I am stubborn and a fighter. I'm a lover and an advocate. I am a special needs mom and a chauffeur. I am an ally and an antagonist.
A couple years ago when I first started coming to the realization that our eldest son was in fact not our eldest son at all my world fell apart. Raised in a pretty conservative environment I felt like my world was crashing in on me. I knew that she was born that way--I'd seen it with my own eyes. I had always been under the impression that things of that nature were brought on by emotional trauma. Ignorant, I know. I didn't want to know, my limited world view was cushy and it kept me in a place of understanding. "God could save you if you really wanted Him to." I'm sure I've uttered that phrase more times than I could count. I'm sure I've done significant damage with it all the same.
If the God that put my daughter in a boys body wanted him to live out his entire life thinking he was inadequate and that eventually God would "heal" him or not heal him and make him struggle with that his whole life...that wasn't a God that I could get behind. I still have friends that claim this and I still struggle to tell them that I don't serve a God who makes no sense. The Bible however came to my aid. God made and makes eunuchs. He makes people with no genitalia at all. He also makes people with both. The Bible says there are eunuchs born that way and those who choose to be. If God makes people with multiple or no genitals, couldn't my child really and truly be a girl in spirit and a boy in design? I can't even tell you the relief that came from simply accepting that God didn't make a mistake on my child.
Three months ago we let Owen, who was 5, transition publicly after years of strict rules. Owen began picking out his own clothes and with the new clothes came the name Elly. Elly Kathryn. And she is beautiful.
This journey has been such a whirlwind but not for things I ever prepared for. My love for my child has never wavered. We've not met much public opposition and truthfully we haven't had much loud familial opposition either. Our opposition from the unapproving masses is mostly silence which while acceptable is painful none the less. My child has adapted, which isn't entirely true because she hasn't changed at all. This is who she was, we're just finally going along with it. The whirlwind for me has been internal and emotional and spiritual. Questioning everything about myself and how I've lived my life. Trying to flesh out what I actually believe vs what I was taught and why.
This will really be the purpose of this blog. I am an antagonistic pacifist and while I enjoy arguing I don't like confrontation. So instead of shouting at people I love who probably will never listen I'm pretty much going to vent here. Some posts will be offensive to some, I've been hurt. I've been hurt by my family, I've been hurt by my church, I've been hurt by myself. I need to heal.
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