Quote from: Aelita Lynn on May 15, 2009, 02:29:32 PM
It's really been wearing on me lately, that I really seem alone when it comes to religion. I know there are other people out there, but they don't show themselves. I feel like I'm only in the company of dead people. Well, on some points anyway. I don't think there is anybody whose beliefs are really quite that close to mine (but I hope so). It's just so lonely, and I'm always on the defensive as there as I don't have anyone to help stand my ground. I'm not sure what my point was with all of this. I guess I just wanted to say it.
Would you care to expand on your feelings? In what way are you alone when it comes to religion? Philosophically? Theologically? Socially? You mention that you feel your beliefs are different; are you able (or comfortable) expressing the nature of your beliefs? I am curious, because, well, the first person I discussed my need to be female with was a Christian Faith Healer (I was sincerely curious about the possibility of a miraculous transformation) and was told that my feelings were the result of demonic or satanic influence and that my soul would be damned if I did not deny my feelings and refrain from even contemplating being anything other than what God made me. There are only two ways I can think of for a male to truly be transformed into a female (I don't include science or technology that one day might work, on the grounds that it doesn't exist yet) and that would be a miracle or magic (the existence of which has not been proven one way or the other) which I have to believe in as a consequence of believing in God. I've gotten a lot of weird reactions, even from other transpeople, for stating this belief. I have a lot of experience in having a "unique" perspective when it comes to religion, philosophy and even science. Personally, I get the impression that the purpose of religion is to keep people from asking the really hard questions by requiring them to accept "on faith" answers that are not answers at all.
Being trans, we have the advantage of being forced to learn that we cannot take "who we are" for granted. We all know our lives would be much better if we could be what we appeared to be, but no matter how hard we try to conform to our birth sex, our bodies, we are unable to escape from the fact that our true gender, a key part of our identity, who we are, the proper expression of our souls, is the opposite--or something else entirely! The very fact that this conflict exists, and is so agonizing, ought to be proof enough (however subjective) of the existence of our souls. The belief we all have, that who we are matters more than what we are, is a powerful argument that there is indeed more to us than form and substance we possess in our short lives. Since we all go through a great deal of this alone, in our own minds, it is not surprising that we would tend to see things very differently from people who do take themselves for granted (and I don't mean that in a negative way).