Finally Transformed: From Transgender To Christian

“It’s done.”

The nurse’s first words that greeted me when I awoke from my surgery were met with welcome grogginess. A new chapter of my life was beginning in a hospital bed. After years of psychological therapy, hormone treatments, and legal paperwork, I felt the new me finally come of age.

It felt so good that I wanted to educate the world about the transgender experience and encourage others to complete their journeys.

I knew the world would support me—my parents and others in my life had been singing out in support of my plan since I came out in 2015, at 33, and explained my experiences with gender dysphoria. (“Gender dysphoria” describes experiences of gender identity in which a person’s psychological and emotional sense of themselves as female, for instance, does not match or align with their birth sex as male, or vice versa.)

In my note to my folks, I explained that I felt strongly I was doing something that would enhance my life and bring endless joy. I said I wanted to become an activist to support other people hoping to experience similar transitions.

To that end, I studied alternative identities to better support the community. I had plans to work with people individually to share my story of triumph. I wanted to encourage them to abandon the false identities they were assigned at birth and find the peace and fulfillment that comes from transitioning gender. I assumed I’d be working with adults who’d long suffered the pangs of dysphoria.

I did support a few adults. But when I was asked to discuss transgender issues with teenagers, I was dismayed. They seemed too young and inexperienced to be making the choices I did about hormones and surgeries. For the first time, I questioned trans philosophy.

Not only that, but transitioning was painful—emotionally and physically—despite the sense of completion resulting from discarding my Jonathan identity to become Andrea. In every honest moment, I felt disappointment.

Trying to Be Physically and Spiritually Female

My disappointment primarily stemmed from unmet expectations. I was hoping to become a woman. But there were distinctions between the experiences of a woman and my experiences. I still bemoaned my male characteristics that were impossible to hide or “overcome.”

I was hoping to become a woman. But there were distinctions between the experiences of a woman and my experiences.

Before I fully realized and accepted that, I was excited to keep up all appearances of my preferred gender because I believed I truly was going to experience a new reality. I had an official name change, an “F” marker on my driver’s license, and physical characteristics that might have been identifiable as female, even if my transition wasn’t perfect.

My desire to bridge the divide between myself as a “trans” woman (born male) and a “cis” woman (born female) led to religious experiments. At first, I rejected God. I believed there was no supernatural world; it was all up to me to resolve my sadness and awkwardness because there was no transforming power in the universe to help me. I was adamant there was no God.

Eventually, I made friends from a variety of social and spiritual backgrounds. Through conversations with them, and the different spiritual experiences they introduced me to, I revised my view on spiritual matters.

Because of my lingering dissatisfaction with my body, I turned to Eastern solutions to find comfort in the possibility of reincarnation into the personality I always imagined for myself. I tried meditating, but all I could do was think about myself. I wanted transformation. I felt like that was the ultimate purpose of my experience as a budding mystic.

Later, I changed my focus from the Far East to the Near East and the West, exploring multiple more familiar religions. Even though I didn’t fully understand all of the spiritual disciplines, I still believed I could harness them to achieve my ultimate objective of true womanhood.

I took classes. I learned prayers. I read books. I sang songs. I believed I’d be on the right path if I didn’t fall prey to the harm that seemed to emanate from the doctrines of Christianity, the predominant faith and my most feared religion.

‘My Most Feared Religion’

Christianity bears the brunt of modern criticism. It was oppressive to me—too limiting and too judgmental. I strived to resist it at all costs, believing “Bible thumpers” the most viciously opposed to my identity as Andrea, even more so than the strangers shouting mean comments in the streets.

But then I was transformed.

It started when a friend gave me a notebook version of the Gospel of Matthew as my introduction to the New Testament. That opened my eyes to Jesus’s wisdom, kindness, and immense importance. My friend encouraged me to join her at Trinity Bible Church in Phoenix, even though I was highly apprehensive. Her reassurance meant so much, and she presented a model of evangelism that was kind, informative, and encouraging.

My fellowship with the broader church community began with a simple, kind, no-pressure lunch with Pastor Malachi and one of my fellow congregants at Trinity. They helped me understand the gospel and Jesus’s importance for my life.

From there, my friend who introduced me to the church gave me Dane Ortlund’s book Gentle and Lowly, which was so informative and moving that it cemented my decision to explore Christianity. It also sparked an insatiable hunger for further reading, ranging from simple gospel summaries to John Bunyan and works on systematic theology.

As I read about Jesus’s kind heart, I realized I already had his love. I was moved to tears and practically shook with excitement. I couldn’t believe what a gift I’d been given. I felt a rush of happiness and energy that led me to take a walk. I joyfully pondered my spiritual walk with Jesus and the meaning of his grace to someone like me, who always feared I’d be considered unworthy of such a precious gift.

While I was always trying to develop a different life for myself, what I really needed was a rebirth as a Christian. It was only a few weeks before I stopped wearing dresses to church—where I was always welcomed with open arms—and Andrea reverted to Jon.

I’d found the truth at last, something I’d always been desperate to avoid as I strived to establish my identity as a woman. This truth brought not only comfort but also a zeal to spread the Word—a passion to help people avoid the pain I suffered.

‘World-Clarifying Metamorphosis’

Becoming a Christian means so much more than simply attending church, Sunday school, and potlucks (although I’ve been invited to many fantastic parties already!). It means my sins have been forgiven through Christ’s death on the cross. It’s a world-clarifying metamorphosis. It’s a philosophy, a moral code, and a source of edifying knowledge, great literature, and the world’s kindest friends. It’s comforting. Prayer keeps me connected with the Holy Trinity and gives me strength and joy. It’s the truth.

While I was always trying to develop a different life for myself, what I really needed was a rebirth as a Christian.

Christianity doesn’t deserve the criticism it garners from people who feel disconnected from mainstream religious thought. The kindest people I’ve known were Christians who accepted and loved who I was even if they disagreed with my decisions. Everyone struggles with sin, and my sin can be forgiven as completely as anyone else’s. Believers set me free from the judgment I’d placed on myself.

Although accepting reality proved difficult, the journey strengthened my resolve all the more when I finally achieved the true spiritual transformation I’d always longed for.

Reality and Regret

The most healing realization is that our loving God is real and wants me to be content with who he made me to be. I’ve seen the power of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit transform me and bring me a joy I never would’ve experienced regardless of how many surgeries I endured. I’ll never again turn away from my Lord and Savior.

My attempted transition impeded my growth socially, professionally, and spiritually. But my biggest regret is that I was trying to spread the word of my physical changes rather than the Lord’s precious gift of salvation. I feel a great deal of guilt for encouraging friends to continue in their transgender experiences, and I fear they will also come to regret their decisions.

I also worry about the children in my life, who saw that someone can transition gender with apparent happiness. They may not have the capacity to understand the truth—that although I wanted to experience a new reality or a preferred self, there are physical, mental, emotional, and genetic divides that can never be bridged. Despite all efforts to the contrary, my true identity was always there. No “F” on my identification cards or self-given name could make my past (or future) self disappear.

Relief and Healing

Now that I’m no longer a trans woman, I’m free from crushing disappointment. The relief of reclaiming my identity as Jonathan and turning back the efforts to become a different person was uplifting, emotionally and physically.

I’m also relieved because people I thought I might have let down by turning away from my transgender identity—such as my parents—instead support me.

Now I want to be an activist in support of “detransitioners”—people moving back to their birth sex. I want to warn people about the pain and disappointment I experienced. And I want to help them accept the value and beauty they naturally possess.

While I’ve abandoned part of my life’s journey, a life in Christ will bring the healing my transgender experience failed to accomplish. Jesus’s work on the cross has saved my life, turned me away from my pain, and provided the transformation necessary to share my testimony with the world.

It’s done.