“I know I shouldn’t ask you this…”

These words

A preface

allies say before they

Transfigure my trans joy

into dysphoria and doubt

Consciously biased people

Speak loud

The words typically whispered behind my back

“I know I shouldn’t ask you this…”

a pastor’s wife stated as she grabbed by breasts

As she squeezed she proclaimed

“it’s a shame you don’t like these,

they are amazing.”

“I know I shouldn’t ask you this…”

Said the voice in the line for coffee

after church

“What was it like,

having a penis growing up?”

“I don’t know,” I replied

In an exhausted sigh

The words I wished I could say

Were held in my throat

Behind a thin piece of plastic

That reminded me

bible thumping causes unholy sacred scars

“I know I shouldn’t ask you this…”

They ask my wife after church

“We know Megan is transgender,

but which way?”

“Megan is transgender” she responds

Refusing to make private parts

public talking points

“Yes, but which way,” they ask again.

“I know I shouldn’t ask you this…”

These words lead trans people

down a rabbit hole of shame

Once you wander in

the exit is sealed

With over 340 anti-trans laws

and vile legislation

that trades fertility for proper identification

I no longer fill the silence

Of your awkward words

Because my oversharing

makes the harm deeper

And I was told

I should not be killed

by a thousand papercuts

It is unsafe in this trans body

To close my eyes when I pray

To wince in pain

To name hate as hate

To be visible

Doing unto others is a privilege I do not have

So, most days I silence the words

I know I should not ask.

So, in a sacred act

of claiming my own name

“I know I shouldn’t ask you this…”

But has anyone ever lied to you

and told you that God does not love you?

If the bible must be thumped

Let us thump it in ways that prioritize

the poor, the lost, the lonely and the forgotten

Let me here in this holiest of holy

This sacred room

that for decades has proclaimed unconditional love

Here in this building

where the first trans organization met

In the corporation

where pastors testified in court

paving a legal path for trans rights

Let me poetically ponder

A few liberatingly biased questions.

“I know I shouldn’t ask you this…”

But how can God be present in water, wine and bread

But not in the heart of trans people?

On the day

we remember Jesus’ journey from the graves

Into the political arena,

Shashaying publicly

Unafraid

On a donkey

Let us also remember that the very next day

A gender non-conforming man carrying water

Owned the house where the last supper took place

Let us preside

In the fabulous, bejeweled vestments of our trans ancestors

the only ones allowed to lead ancient Easter gatherings

Let us be bold like the Ethiopian Eunuch

the first person after Jesus’ death

to be brave enough to ask to be baptized

“I know I shouldn’t ask you this…”

But are you ready to celebrate trans theology

without apology

Then speak up

Guard our bathroom stalls

Assume we pray

Celebrate our lives

Learn our names before our deaths

Love your scars

Embody the holy

And the next time

you know you shouldn’t ask,

Don’t.