The Outing

Over on my personal blog, I just posted the story of how I came to be a student of A Course in Miracles and how, last week, I came to the decision to tell the weekly study group I attend my story of growing up trans. Because of its length, I’ve decided to just give you a taste of what’s in it. If you want to read, the whole thing and hear how it turned out, you’ll have to go here.

As I prepared to transition, one of my hopes was to be accepted as a woman among circles of women. (I talked about this with Lori recently on one of her podcasts.) Unity Church has turned out to be one of the places where that dream has been realized.

The principles of Unity Church and A Course in Miracles share many basic ideas, but the Course is rarely mentioned, at least at Unity of Prescott. In July 2007, however, a retired Unity minister and student of the Course started a study group at the church on Thursday mornings. I wanted to attend that group from the beginning, but I was afraid about whether I would be accepted there, especially since I didn’t feel then (and still don’t) that my voice is very feminine. In August, however, almost exactly one year ago, I overcame my fear and began attending that group. Although men attend from time to time, the group fairly quickly became almost exclusively women. It also became one of those places that I had dreamed of where I am accepted as a woman among women.

When I began attending that group, I expected that, at some point, the fact that I am transgender would become known. (None of the people attending the group had known me before my transition.) At the same time, however, I had no desire to make myself the center of attention or distract the group from discussing the lessons that we were all trying to learn from the Course. So, I waited, expecting that, at some point, the subject of my transition would become relevant to whatever we were discussing and I would mention it as an example of how I have applied the lessons of the Course in my life. That moment never arrived, however. Instead, I felt increasingly constrained about talking about my own life because these women did not know that important part of my story. At one point, I remember thinking about sharing a story about my childhood. However, when I realized that the best way to start the story was to say, “When I was a little boy . . .,” I held my tongue. As I have said before, I didn’t spend the last 13 years of my life trying to find out who I am and what I need to be happy to turn around once I found those answers and hide the truth about who I am and how I got here.

I also realized some time ago that I want the world to know who I am. I am proud of who I am and believe, rightly or wrongly, that sharing my story can help people understand what it means to be trans and that, like them, we are simply striving to find a way to live with peace and dignity. Consequently, the fact that these women, with whom I have become very close, did not know about my journey began to rankle more and more.

* * *

Finally, I decided that the time had come to share my story with the entire group and that the only way to do it was to simply ask for the opportunity outside the group’s normal routine.

The story continues here.

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