Sacred Space

I’m sitting in my living room with the sun beaming through the corner windows, filled with joy and confidence. Tomorrow I’m going in for “top surgery” (more technically, a double mastectomy as a form of gender-affirming healthcare to treat dysphoria) – and I could not be more excited! Processing with my therapist this morning, I had tears streaming down my face. I was thinking about baby Kelly. The little me who wanted so desperately to fit in and be the little girl everyone expected me to be. The little me who could barely admit all the stress and pressure in her body to herself, let alone speak it out loud. The little me who had no idea this life, this joy would be possible. I just kept saying, “every step of this identity journey is such a gift.” At the end of my session, my therapist thanked me for inviting her into this sacred space with me.

And that’s exactly what this is – sacred space. To be on the journey of discovering yourself. To be curious and not judgmental about what feels right, what feels good, what brings out the best in you. To feel confidence and joy in a way you never thought possible. For me, I can’t help but feel God in this process. It’s like I can hear the Divine saying, “that’s right; this feeling is what I’ve always meant for you.” Identity work is so, so sacred.

I felt the sacred at work as friends have checked in with excitement this week, sending encouragement and asking how they can support me and my family as we approach this significant step. I felt the sacred at work as my surgeon shared her excitement for my surgery at our pre-op appointment. I felt the sacred at work as I ask for help in recovery and am met by an abundance of support. I felt that holy at work as I put on my binder for the last time this morning, gleefully awaiting the weight to be lifted from my chest.

I can’t lie and say this whole process has been smooth. Not everyone has responded with kindness or understanding. I faced transphobic comments, providers, and processes going through the nearly year-long, grueling slog of getting this surgery approved and scheduled. I had a lot of struggles, feeling that this was selfish or too much – that I was selfish or too much. Maybe I should be smaller. Maybe my needs don’t matter. Maybe comfort and confidence weren’t meant for me.

But, in the end, in this time where it feels like hatred and hurt prevail, in a world that is more broken and less loving, I refuse to accept that is the end of the story. The bumps and challenges along the way don’t get the final say. My faith has affirmed that for me time and time again.

So I’m sharing my story because joy is not meant to be a crumb. May we all have the radiance of a trans person getting the care they need as we continue the messy but beautiful work of life and faith together. Keep exploring that sacred space, dear friends.