Being Trans vs The Bible: Faith is the Sword They Use

An Accounting From the Maven , Wendy

I feel it in my bones before I even hear it – that sideways glance, the whispered "abomination" that slices through the air like broken glass. As a 52-year-old trans woman, I don't just read about transphobia; I taste its bitterness every fucking day with my coffee. The far-right and hardcore religious fundamentalists have made it their holy mission to ensure people like me know exactly how unwelcome we are in their version of America. How their grand leader, lead by their Christ, Donald FucksHimself, will erase me, and those like me from the earth utterly.

Frosty the Bible-Thumpin’ Anti-Communist of West Virginia (still) has a Lump in His Stockings for Me

Let me be crystal clear – this isn't about all Christians or people of faith. Many moderate christian believers manage to practice their religion without turning it into a bludgeon, and there are many who practice grace and kindness to others, especially trans persons. But for every compassionate Christian extending a hand, there's a zealot brandishing scripture like a knife at my throat, their certainty burning hotter than hellfire as they condemn what they refuse to understand.

The science supporting transgender identities grows stronger every year, but facts bounce off biblical literalism like rain on a tin roof. This article isn't just catharsis – it's a raw, unfiltered window into what happens when religious dogma collides with transgender existence. And I will be honest, I’m not writing this to be kind in any way.

The Daily Battlefield of Existence

My morning ritual starts with my armor – not physical, but psychological. Before I even step outside, I've already rehearsed responses to potential attacks. What most people take for granted – grabbing coffee, using a public restroom, existing in public spaces – becomes a strategic operation when you're trans.

"God doesn't make mistakes," is honestly a favorite phrase of their own making, brandishing Genesis like it's some kind of ace card against my lived reality. This bull-headed stance completely ignores the messy, beautiful complexity of human gender and the gut-wrenching reality transgender folks, like myself, face every fucking day.

Dr. Kristina Olson's TransYouth Project at Princeton University demonstrates that transgender identities are consistent, persistent, and insistent from early ages – not choices, phases, or delusions. But try explaining peer-reviewed research to someone who believes the world was created in seven days, or that the earth is 6000 years old, and you'll hit a wall of willful ignorance so thick you could break your fist on it.

The psychological toll is immense. Each interaction carries the potential for humiliation, rejection, or worse. I often start to taste fear – metallic and sharp – when someone looks at me for too long or follows me down an empty street. Christians, do people do that to you?

The Twisted Theology of Exclusion

The same Christians who claim to worship a man who associated with society's outcasts somehow believe their savior would approve of their cruelty. The hypocrisy burns like acid on skin. When confronted with heartbreaking statistics about transgender suicide rates – 40% of transgender adults report having attempted suicide during their lifetime according to the Williams Institute – many religious conservatives shrug it off with infuriating callousness: "You need Jesus, not affirmation." I have been told this, countless times before. That if I just accepted Jesus into my life, that I would stop all this “transgender nonsense” as they call it, and live like a good Christian should. And I have been to the suicidal fringe. I have had to talk myself off of a ledge and not leap from it. I’ve stared down that abyss countless times.

I've heard this dismissive bullshit more times than I can count, each instance like a punch to the solar plexus that leaves you gasping. Where's that Christ-like compassion they preach about every Sunday? The disconnect between their proclaimed values and their actions creates a cognitive dissonance so loud it's deafening. The smell of incense in churches makes me nauseous now – not because of the scent itself, but because it's become associated with spaces where I'm considered fundamentally broken, spaces where love comes with conditions thick as chains. Spaces that I were to walk inside, and I would either burn up utterly, or I would be attacked and ripped apart by those who live in that space.

Political Persecution Disguised as Religious Freedom

The coordinated legislative assault on transgender rights isn't happening in a vacuum. It's being orchestrated by far-right religious organizations that have decided that their interpretation of ancient texts outshines modern medical consensus and basic human dignity. Over 500 anti-transgender bills have been introduced across the United States in recent years, with many successfully becoming law. Each one carries the fingerprints of religious organizations claiming "protection of values" while actually codifying discrimination.

You can hear the grinding of legislative machinery as rights are stripped away, feel the weight of each new restriction like stones piled on your chest until breathing becomes laborious. The physical sensation of having your humanity debated by strangers who have never met you creates a unique type of nausea. These aren't abstract policy discussions – they're direct attacks on my right to exist in public spaces, access healthcare, and live with basic dignity. And behind nearly every one stands someone clutching a bible and claiming to speak for God.

The Personal Cost of Public Hatred

"Love the sinner, hate the sin" is perhaps the most toxic phrase in the modern Christian lexicon. Johnny Hunt (WFBC, a very large Baptist sect in North West Metro Atlanta) has been made famous for making statements like this in regards to LGBTQIA+ Persons. It creates the illusion of compassion while authorizing endless cruelty. It's like saying "I don't hate you, just everything about your authentic existence." The same folks singing "love thy neighbor" on Sundays can't be bothered to extend that love when it actually costs something. Their doctrine matters more than flesh-and-blood people standing right in front of them, bleeding and hoping for acceptance.

This isn't theoretical – it's my daily reality and the reality for many transgender people. The constant rejection leaves calluses on your heart, makes you question your worth until self-doubt becomes background noise you can't silence. The touch of rejection becomes familiar – the handshake that's slightly too brief, the hug that never comes, the physical distance that says "your existence makes me uncomfortable" louder than words ever could.

Practical Tools for Survival in a Hostile World

Finding ways to exist with dignity amid constant opposition requires more than just thick skin – it demands strategy, community, and self-compassion that runs deeper than the wounds.

1. Document everything: Record instances of discrimination, especially in employment, housing, and healthcare. Organizations like Lambda Legal can provide guidance on your rights.

2. Psychological armor: Working with therapists who specialize in transgender issues and religious trauma can help develop resilience without becoming hardened. I have, and I know it works.

3. Strategic engagement: Choose your battles carefully. I do. I don’t pick a fight I can’t win. Some minds can be changed through personal connection; others are locked behind impenetrable ideology.

4. Know when to walk away: Sometimes self-preservation means refusing to engage with those who deny your humanity. This isn't weakness – it's necessary survival.

These tools smell like freedom – like the first breath of fresh air after leaving a toxic environment, taste like the sweet relief of finding spaces where your guard can finally lower.

The Power of Transgender Community

Against the backdrop of religious condemnation, transgender communities have built networks of support that demonstrate what true Christian values should look like – unconditional acceptance, mutual aid, and genuine compassion. These connections feel like salvation – hands grasping yours when you're falling, voices affirming your reality when others call you delusional. The embrace of community has a distinct warmth that counteracts the cold rejection of religious fundamentalism.

Organizations like the Transgender Resource Center and the National Center for Transgender Equality provide practical resources while also advocating for systemic change. Finding others who understand your experience without explanation creates a sense of belonging that religious communities often promise but fail to deliver for transgender people. The shared experiences create bonds that can withstand external pressure. When someone tells you they've walked the same path, survived the same battles, there's a recognition that needs no words – just the silent understanding between warriors who bear similar scars.

Moving Forward Without Forgetting

The path forward isn't about forgetting injuries or pretending bigotry doesn't exist. It's about refusing to be defined by others' limitations while acknowledging the real damage religious extremism inflicts on transgender lives. We don't need salvation from being transgender – we need liberation from a society that weaponizes religion against vulnerable populations while claiming moral superiority. The greatest act of resistance is sometimes simply continuing to exist authentically in spaces that wish to erase you. It happens to be quite hard, but even at my age, I do it. I do it where others cannot. So that maybe in the end of it, they can later. Many of us do this. For the sake of others who are like us. So that they can.

For every rigid fundamentalist who calls me an abomination, there are others questioning their inherited beliefs, religious leaders advocating for inclusion, and faith communities creating sanctuaries rather than barriers. These glimmers of progress, though insufficient, hint at what's possible. My existence as a transgender person isn't a mistake or test – it's a valid, beautiful expression of human diversity that religious texts written thousands of years ago couldn't possibly have addressed with nuance. So is every other person like me. So is every other LGBTQIA+ Person out there. The divine, if it exists, surely encompasses more complexity than fundamentalists can imagine.

The journey continues, one breath at a time. Despite everything – the slurs, the legislation, the rejection – we remain. And in that persistence lies a power that no amount of biblical misinterpretation can diminish.

References

1. The Williams Institute, UCLA School of Law. (2021). Suicide Thoughts and Attempts Among Transgender Adults: Findings from the 2015 U.S. Transgender Survey.

2. Olson, K. R., Durwood, L., DeMeules, M., & McLaughlin, K. A. (2022). Gender Identity 5 Years After Social Transition. Pediatrics, 150(2).

3. Movement Advancement Project. (2023). Equality Maps: Tracking Anti-Transgender Legislation Across the United States.

4. American Psychological Association. (2022). Guidelines for Psychological Practice with Transgender and Gender Nonconforming People.

5. Pew Research Center. (2022). Religious Landscape Study: Views on Transgender Identity.

6. National Center for Transgender Equality. (2022). U.S. Transgender Survey.

7. Human Rights Campaign. (2023). State Equality Index: Anti-Transgender Legislation.