I Should Have Worn Heels

REALITY’S REACH SNARES US all. From the moment of birth, the illumination from the light of day, the salty scent from breath, the warmth of parental embrace, to the voices of joy and thanksgiving, our gift of life, the clay of our life, is being shaped, transformed, hardened, and fixed. The unlimited potential, possibilities, dreams, and opportunities destiny calls us to seek, discover, and nurture are being culled, categorized, limited, and established.

Painfully pushed, forced, and thrust into the unknown and then severed from the safety and nourishment of shared existence, new life begins to shroud us from our awakening before our eyes can see, before our heart can love, before our mind can discern, and before richness of soul defines. Before discovery of self begins to unfold, our perception, our image, our visual appearance is being chronicled for us. A name is given, announcements are proclaimed, clothing covers our innocence, and our presentation for acceptance precedes our arrival and our arrival of self. Imagine the trauma, the guilt, the shame, and the horror when the hard edges of reality, our existence, and our body do not match our gender, our mind, or our soul. Consider the fear of being trapped in the cultural snare of reality that proclaims our existence is proof positive of the most heinous of sins.

DURING A SEPTEMBER AFTERNOON, Oprah was discussing the transgender condition. She was discussing my personal issue, my problem, and my secret which I had lived with for most of my life. She had devoted an entire week to that struggle, and at the end of her last program, Oprah challenged everyone to be themselves. “Not everybody watching here is going to believe it, relate to it, or understand it, but at some point in your life, I’m sure, you will have to stand up and say who you are, in one form or another.” She challenged her audience to be more accepting of everyone. “I feel like all of us who are living in this lifetime have to do our part to create a greater understanding . . . where people accept you just for being who you are.” During her program, Oprah asked Dr. Marci Bowers, a transgender woman herself and one of the most preeminent SRS surgeons in the world, how one could struggle with being transgender for most of a lifetime. Marci surprisingly answered, “You play the cards you’re dealt.”

It was a difficult position to be in if you were born when we were. We had no resources to gain understanding to our endless fears and questions, and most of us kept our little secrets to ourselves while living our lives quietly, seemingly unnoticed. Who could we have told? Who would have understood? We were alone and playing the cards we were dealt.

Throughout much of my life, I pleaded with God to answer my questions and make my condition disappear. Many of us, when feeling hopeless and full of despair, eventually turn to God, to faith, or to spirit for an answer. We often believe we must die to self to be saved, to receive our reward, or to achieve our full potential.

I had seldom strayed from the spiritual path that has been the focus of my life. However, I was unable to avoid the path of womanhood that continually called me. In my heart, I believed I had already died to self and placed my life in God’s hands. What more could I do to make my transgender feelings disappear? My questions and pleas were endless.

It was an answer to one of those endless questions that focused my frustrations. I am asking you to respond to what is in your heart. That whispered response stunned my senses.

No! I exclaimed.

Responding to what was in my heart, my soul, and my mind would have required my embracing being a woman. How could anyone born a man have embraced that reality, the reality they were intended to be a woman?

No! I repeatedly exclaimed.

I feared how much more difficult my life would have become if I accepted and fully embraced that thought. How would I have been able to support myself? No one would have accepted me, ever accepted me. No one was like me. I would have been alone. Anxiety was my constant companion, anxiety of my family, my loved ones, and my friends discovering my secret. Also, the anxiety and fear of where my life would have led me if I did not confront my struggle and reveal my secret. Who could I have turned to, who could have helped me?

God? I continually pleaded.

Whenever I came closer to accepting and embracing womanhood, I feared forfeiting the presence of spirit that had always watched over me. If I had found the courage to accept being a woman, would I have been alone in the physical world as well as the spiritual world?

There is no promise that our lives will be more peaceful and happy if we avoid difficult moments instead of willingly confronting them, and there is no guarantee we will be more fulfilled if we seek to limit our experiences and our encounters. If our focus is too self-centered, we can become locked in our safe and secure places and isolated from the fullness of life’s blessings. We can harden our hearts, unwilling to embrace our new encounters and share all that is offered to us, including the sweet serenity we are promised.

NOT UNTIL A CONVERSATION with the Holy Spirit, when I recalled the eulogy I had given years earlier for my uncle, did I understand the path my life had taken. In our family’s parish church, full of loved ones and friends, I remembered sharing that the most precious gift we will ever receive is our gift of life. Our life is a gift from God. It is a precious gift that we do not have to earn or save for, a gift that we do not have to study and pass a test to receive, a gift that is not a prize we must win, and a gift that does not come as a reward for emeritus service or performance. Our precious gift of life is a gift that is given freely and with one request; a request that we reverence, nurture, and share our gift with everyone, share our gift with all of creation. It is a simple request that we often have difficulty sharing easily and openly. I closed by challenging everyone to accept their gifts, and to share them with everyone they would encounter during their life’s journey.

If I could ask others to accept their gifts, why was I unable to accept all of mine? After all those years, I understood what was in my heart. I believed I was being asked to die to self. I was being asked to accept the death of myself, as Charles, and to embrace new life, my new life, my rebirth as Christine.

My rebirth became a blessing, a blessing I have been fortunate to share with God, my family, my loved ones, and my friends. My life has been most revealing and has allowed first Charles’s and now Christine’s heart to remain open to love and creation. A life of wonder and opportunity that once unfolded for Charles has become my new today that is now unfolding for Christine, unfolding for me. My new tomorrows I can now face with more confidence and faith intact, willingly and thankfully embracing each new experience.

I Should Have Worn Heels is Charles’s and Christine’s story, it is our story. It is a story of overcoming seemingly insurmountable problems and, in the process, understanding the purpose of life. It is a story of understanding why more often seems to be asked of us no matter what we have already accomplished or achieved. My journey was one of hopes and promises that seemed uncompleted and unfulfilled, an unknown journey I initially struggled to comprehend, though a journey I always felt safe and secure experiencing. I felt a constant spiritual presence that was there, To Watch Over Me.

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