One thing troubles me more than most — minor for most, but major for me. Being brought up a strict Catholic, being taught that God is perfect — and therefore makes no mistakes… so It should be safe to assume that He would know what our trials and tribulations are going to be during our lifetime, right? I was taught that we are all God’s children. That He loves us all unconditionally, and that ‘the hairs on our head are numbered’.
So what went wrong? The two pictures don’t match. I mean, if God didn’t make a mistake, then how is it possible that I don’t feel like I was born in the right body? If God didn’t mess up, then why am I (still) feeling so awkward in my own skin? If this is how I was made, how I was meant to be… Why do I hate it so much?
Unfortunately I can only come up with two plausible solutions. On the one hand, God (or whatever situation at the time of my brith) had an ‘Oops, my bad!’. But seeing how many people suffer the exact same fate as myself, that option doesn’t really fit the bigger picture.
Now, the other option is something that I find most comforting — in a weird, ‘you lucky bastards’ kind of way. What if He did make me this way? Purposely. He’s God, he can do that. Okay, but He’d need a reason — after all, He does nothing without reason. Okay, so what would His reason be? Humor? Doubtful, He is a merciful God, so that’s not in His character. Revenge or spite? Nope, that is just as easily refuted by the last answer.
So what if God made me this way to remind people of something? Well, that wouldn’t be entirely out of character. He’s been doing that for thousands of years, much of which is well documented — the book of Job, just to name one such example. Okay, so say it is a message; what could that message be?
Being a cynic, I believe that a common, daily-life example can answer that: complaints. Yup. You read that right, complaints. “Guys just don’t get it!” “Chicks, man! Like they were born to drive us crazy!” “I wish guys could walk a mile in our shoes, maybe then he’d clean up after himself!” “I’m never going to understand girls — it’s like nothing I do is any good!”
So how do the two connect? Well, God always answers, just not always in the way we’d like Him to. So He lets a percentage of His children be born different. Always on the border between genders, always experiencing both sides of the fence — whether we want to or not. I believe He made me different so someone would ‘get it’ — truly understand what it is to be male and female.
Why would He do that? Because His sheep have become complacent. No one stops to wonder anymore, no one stops to see things from a different perspective. Everyone is so busy trying to get more! More money, more status, more this and more that. That is, until something comes along — something with enough emotional clout to bring even the proudest of us to our knees. Something that makes us truly value the little things we have.
Be honest with yourself. When is the last time you were truly grateful to know who you are? And that’s assuming that you know who you are — do you? I thought I knew. I truly did. I thought I was just different — which I am, but I am also so much more than just ‘different’. Now I need to PAUSE and REFLECT on things that I’ve always taken for granted. I need to start to unravel portions of ME that I’ve spent my whole life ignoring and shoving into a dark, dank corner in my mind. And for what? Why did neglect myself for so long that I now need so much help to undo the damage I’ve wrought? What made me so afraid as to teach myself to act like something I’ve never truly believed myself to be?
Shamefully enough, I was afraid of the world. I was scared to death that people couldn’t or wouldn’t accept me as I am — as I truly am. So I played a part. I wore a mask. I hid. I kept everything so deep inside that no one ever saw ME.
Unfortunately, now I have to heal. I have to, because I’m so emotionally damaged that everyday life became too much for me. I got so bogged down with this mask that I didn’t even know who I was anymore. So I have to take a step back and see the world as I was supposed to see it in the first place.
Sound simple? It isn’t. It couldn’t possibly be simple, or easy. However! I am no longer afraid of it. I am no longer running away. I am not going to sit in some corner, isolated from the world and crying my heart out because I can’t tell for sure if the people I pray loves me would still love me if they knew.
So here I am. Love me. Hate me. Be indifferent. But this is my life. It’s about time I started LIVING. Maybe you should to?