Lindsey

I’m a pastor’s kid, and by age seven, I knew that it wasn’t safe to be myself. I kept my identity under wraps, because I knew I would lose my home, my security, and my family if I were to tell my parents the truth.

My parents are conservative, evangelical Christians. They homeschooled me and used tools to restrict my web access, so I never learned about queer people. I was immersed in the church, and although I knew I was different from the people around me, I still internalized what I was taught. I saw myself and other queer people as “sinners.”

When I was 17, I was publicly outed by three of my closest friends. Within a week, I lost most of my relationships. Nobody wanted to ask me what my perspective was or what being queer meant to me. I was like a ghost to them.

Church leaders loudly and aggressively associated queerness with pedophilia and considered me a sexual sinner, so I was sent to conversion therapy to be “healed” of my “sexual perversions.” I was grouped in with convicted sex offenders. It was traumatizing, especially because the men running the program were people I’d known my whole life. The experience left me extremely depressed and suicidal.

At 18, I was kicked out of the house without any resources. For a couple years, I lived in a car and on friends’ couches. Being trans instilled in me the necessity of community, so I created a new family. My queer community offers me tenderness, affirmation, and love, and I feel safe in my body when I’m with them.

Today, because of access to gender-affirming care, I’m thriving more than I ever have, but I still feel the sting of violence directed towards my community. I’m often on my guard. My doctors considered my treatment to be life-saving, but I consistently have to fight barriers to care. My top surgery alone came with a $10,000 price tag. 

My parents are still unwilling to hear a perspective outside their own, and we are estranged. As an adult, I’ve found people who love me, and I hold less malice towards my birth family. I’ve learned that hurt people hurt people, but love is the rebel song.