I had a bit of an epiphany the other day while driving and pondering a conversation I had a few weeks ago with my best friend (who belongs to a rather conservative neo-Anabaptist sect). I was telling her some of what I knew about my multiple offspring's experience with discovering that they were all members of the LGBTQIA+ community, and she asked how she should react if either of her offspring were to come out as some flavour of the rainbow (given that they are both neurodivergent, the odds are higher than average): at the time, I told her to let love, kindness, and curiosity take the lead in her dealings.
Anyway, Galatians 6:2 popped into my head: specifically the admonition to "Bear one another's burdens". (I had to look up the actual citation when I got to my destination.)
Along with that came the realization that we are here to bear and to share each other's burdens, not to add to them. Understanding that many different flavours and levels of attraction exist is perhaps easier to parse: we don't all have the same favourite food, after all. I may not understand what leads some people to find pleasure in foods that are high on the Scoville index, but I'm not going to stop them from enjoying what they like just because they're not to my taste. In other words, I am not going to "yuck" their "yum".
By the same token, I don't understand experiencing your own body as a foreign country. Navigating menopause is perhaps the closest I have come. That, or realizing that my personal style is rather gender-neutral, even if I identify as a cis woman. Frankly, for me, clothing that is strongly coded as "feminine" feels uncomfortable and inauthentic. And you know what? There's the key. My right to alter my clothes and wear comfortable, supportive shoes -- and to wear the perfect red lipstick -- is as affirming to me as full medical and social transition is to those who need it. It's the thin end of the wedge, not a slippery slope.
