A Christian Transsexual: From the Closet to the Public Square.

I was born in Colombia, grew up in California and moved to Vancouver, BC in the early 1970s to start a successful career as a graphic designer and photographer. After living for 25 years as a devoted husband and father, I was diagnosed with gender dysphoria. I had struggled with a gender identity that did not conform to my biological sex, ever since I can remember. This diagnosis was both a blessing and a curse. Though it offered an explanation for my years of struggle, confusion and guilt, it did not offer any simple solutions. It would take another ten years before I could come to terms with the diagnosis. I first had to reconcile what the doctors said with my faith in Jesus Christ.

For years, I had used clobber passages in an attempt to correct the flaw and fight the spiritual battle. It was Jesus’ words on eunuchs that finally breached the gap between faith and my medical condition. This allowed me to begin the difficult process of transitioning from living as a man to living as a woman; transforming my body medically and surgically. I knew it would impact the most important people in my life, my wife and three sons. For years, I had shown my love for them by attempting to die to myself daily—suppressing who I was, but I was slowly unraveling from the inside and I feared a breakdown.

In 2007, I came to the painful conclusion the most loving thing I could do now was to choose life, even if this meant making hard choices. I began my transition in July 2008. This is not what I wanted to do—it is what I had to do. There was no thrill in this. My decision had nothing to do with courage; it was an act of desperation. The alternative was dying. You could say I lived most of my adult life with a death wish; my death would solve so many problems. I would be able to go to my grave without anyone needing to know about my secret struggles, my wife would get a healthy life insurance payout, and I would be spared the potential humiliation and rejection for being a transsexual. My faith is what kept me sober of mind and prevented me from self-destructive behaviors, and I am grateful for this—I did not become another statistic.

Today, I look at my life and I beg God to let me live as long as possible—there is so much to be done. As I consider the last two years and how seeminly unrelated events form this amazing chain, full of new opportunities, I am excited and humbled. I see God opening new doors I never imagined I would be walking through.

Almost two years ago I reached out to a transsexual I had never met, formerly one of Vancouver’s most well-known chefs, who had been outed in a local food publication in a very “gossip column” sort of way. The editors then published her letter in which she explained and defended herself. It was brilliantly written and I wrote an encouraging comment in which I outed myself. Oops.

I tried to find her contact information and called all the people I thought might be able to help me reach her, but no luck. I finally sent an email to the editors of the magazine and asked them to please forward my contact information to her and a couple of days later, she responded. That was the beginning of our friendship. I was basically one year ahead of her in the transition process.

Then, one year ago, she called me to invite me to a barbecue. She was going to be preparing all the food and thought I would enjoy meeting some other trans women. The truth be told, I was hesitant at first. I had always been leery of ending up with only transgender friends—in a sot of transgender ghetto. With the exception of her, I really did not have any other trans friends. But I went to the barbecue since, after all, she was asking me to be her guest.

Two things happened the day of the barbecue, first, I met other transsexuals in varying stages of transition, and second I learned about an affirming church from one of the ladies who attended it. She tells the story that she too was reluctant to go to the barbecue because she was going to miss the inaugural service at her church’s new location. Nevertheless, she had a conviction—or prompting—that God wanted her to be at the barbecue to meet someone special. It humbles me every time I hear this story or recount it. We were both there reluctantly, but for different reasons went anyway.
I attended her church the following Sunday and I was struck by the Spirit’s powerful presence the minute I walked in. The worship service was energizing and the love and affirmation I experienced from all was beyond description.

I had been in a two-year drought, ever since I transitioned and stopped attending my church. Lest you thing my reasons for leaving had to do with me being asked to stay away, it was actually my decision. Though all of my friends would have liked me to continue attending, I was aware of a few members who had a history of being outspoken about their anti-gay views. I did not want to embroil the church in a divisive controversy, so I walked away.

Needless to say, I had been hungry for fellowship, for worship and for the caring shepherding I so deeply needed. When I walked into the new church, I was only five months post-surgery and I was still vulnerable and “raw.”

So many wonderful new connections have resulted from the friends I have made at Lighthouse of Hope Christian Fellowship (formerly Rainbow Community Church of Vancouver), least of which is my new friendship with Kathy Baldock, creator of http://canyonwalkerconnections.com. Tori, the friend I met at the barbecue and who invited me to her church sent me a link to one of Kathy’s blog posts, “Can Size 14 Heels Keep You Out of Heaven?” and the accompanying video.

That was it. I had to know more about this person and I spent the next hour reading other posts and watching other clips. I sent her a friend request on Facebook and shared with her who I was and a bit about my life’s journey. It was Sept. 8, 2010. I will summarize the last year by simply saying that Kathy is responsible for my advocacy on behalf of LGBT persons in Uganda, and for creating a website to that end (http://www.ugandaurgentaction.com), and more recently, my advocacy in Charlotte, N.C. at this year's Pride Event. One unfortunate thing that both of these have in common is a fundamentalist anti-gay preacher from the U.S., Lou Engle, best known for his leadership of The Call and association with prominent members of the Christian Right. But also one of the men singularly responsible for inspiring and fueling the homophobia that has gripped Uganda, culminating in the proposed “Kill The Gays Bill.”  

A close friend of Lou Engle, a Charlotte preacher/author organized a group action called “God Has a Better Way” (GHABW) in 2009 to protest that year’s Charlotte Pride Event. Their purpose was to share the “love of Jeeeesus with the lost.” (My inflection and paraphrase.) I don’t know much about how effective their efforts were that year, but preacherman saw an opportunity to invade this year’s event since, for the first time in Charlotte, it was taking place in a public square. Actually on three city blocks. I'm sure the dynamics this year would have been worse than we witnessed and if the infamous Lou Engle had been present, as had been exected. Fortunately, "Kingdom business" kept Him away, according to our preacherman. I would rephrase it as it was the Kingdom's business to keep him away. Maybe that is all that needs to be said to give you an idea of this preacherman's fundamentalistic perspective and motivations. Lou Engle and he are like two peas in a pod.

Back to Kathy. When she learned about this planned action in Charlotte and who was behind it, she was incensed. A few months ago she did a thorough, scathing review of this man’s homophobic book, guaranteeing her a place as a target in this man’s shooting gallery. When I read her post sounding  the alarm, I did the unthinkable, I went to their website and read about them and from there I went to their Facebook page and clicked on the “like” button. Why, you ask, would I do such an odious thing? Well, I could not let this man get away with his comments and views on transgender persons, which I read in the GHABW web site. 

I was polite but critical and fully expected to see my comment deleted. Instead, the page administrator replied and thus began a lengthy exchange, which got shared by many on Facebook, so many more people began reading it. Some of the Charlotte Pride organizers were pleased with what they saw Kathy and me doing on their behalf and extended a warm welcome to join then in Charlotte, to stand with them and present a different Jesus message. Neither Kathy or I had the resources to hop on a plane nor could we afford the transportation and hotel costs. Kathy posted a request on her blog for donations of travel points and/or money, and within a few hours, people from Wisconsin to California came through. This was further confirmation that we needed to be there. Another significant and heart-warming thing that began to happen was the stream of supportive and appreciative messages sent from all over the world. 

No one is more surprised by my activism and advocacy than me. Trust me—I had this notion that after my surgery at the end of March of 2010, I would simply live a life in quiet anonymity, flying under the radar, a private person who would not have to be talking about where I came from, that I had been a man. etc. Only my family and those who already knew me would know this about me. For everyone else, it was none of their business. Kathy Baldock laughs when she points out that if that is what I envisioned, then I had obviously gone about it the wrong way. One doesn’t accept an invitation to address two-hundred people to tell them about their life, which I did, and one certainly does not write a biography that tells all the details, which I also did. Believe me, I do have an excuse for each of those, and it had nothing to do with seeking fame.

I must admit God has been answering the question I nagged Him with for years: "Why haven't you called me home, why am I still around?" He has put it in my heart tell my very private story—that it might make a differnce to someone else's life—whether that someone else is a transgender person, or the parent, sibling, aunt, uncle, cousin, best friend, neighbor or co-worker. Reconciling one's sexuality and gender identity with one's faith, I beleive, unlocks the chains of guilt and self-loathing. It won't make the challenges go away, but one can finally beging to experience a level of conguency and dignity with integrity, knowing God loves us unconditionally.

In July, 2011 I published “Transparently—Behind the Scenes of a Good Life” and it is available through Amazon.com. http://www.Transparently.ca