A note before you read: this exchange is raw, and I've made a couple of minor edits to remove identifying details. I've also renamed the person I was corresponding with — I'll call her Ella. But this is a good example of the kinds of conversations I was having in the weeks after I came out, as I and my family and friends were all working through what this meant. Not every hard conversation came from a place of hostility. Some of the hardest ones came from people who loved me.


A few weeks after I came out publicly, I got a letter from Ella — someone connected to my family, someone who had sent me a genuinely kind message of support when I first came out. I had written to thank her. And then she wrote back.

She had just returned from a charismatic healing conference in the midwest. She'd seen things there she described as miraculous. And she wanted to ask me something, carefully, hoping it wouldn't offend.

I want to be fair to Ella here. She was not being cruel. She genuinely believed she was offering me something. And she was right that I had prayed to God from the time I was little — desperately, consistently, for years. She just had a different theory about what the answer to that prayer might look like.

Here is what I wrote back.

Ella responded graciously, and made clear she wasn't judging. But she pressed a little. She described a God who could "make a shorter leg grow to be as long as the other." She said she just wanted me to be happy.

I wrote back again. And this is where I had a harder time staying gentle.

Ella's last reply was short. She said she had no judgment one way or the other. That she just wanted me to be happy, whatever that looked like.

I believed her. I still do.


What I didn't know how to say to her then, and what I understand better now, is that "just pray harder" is its own kind of answer, and it's an answer that places the burden entirely on the person already carrying the most weight. It says: the problem is not what you think it is. The problem is how you're thinking about the problem.

I had done that for thirty-some years. I had prayed to be different. I had prayed to be easier for everyone around me. I had prayed to want what I was supposed to want.

God didn't answer those prayers. I think now that's because they were the wrong prayers. Not prayers for me — prayers against me, on behalf of everyone else's comfort.

What I think we need more of is people willing to pray that God bring their own minds to a place of believing trans people. Of accepting them for who they are.

As I now believe God already does.