by
Kathy Randall
There are verses in the Bible that talk about our bodies being the temple of God. One is found in 1 Corinthians 3:16 - "Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him; for God's temple is sacred, and you are that temple." We are to cherish that which God has given to us.
The Bible also speaks of certain facts concerning our bodies, "…no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it…" Ephesians 5:29
These may sound like admonishments to keep us in peak physical condition, and not allow ourselves to be maimed. However, as with many scriptures, this is not the whole truth. If the command were a rigid, "Do not alter, nor have harm caused to your being, because you should at all times glorify God by the presentation of a healthy body," then Christ would have been at fault when He allowed himself to be crucified. Obviously, there are other considerations that may be more important.
For much of my life I have been uncomfortable with my physical appearance. I have, at times, worn clothing (female clothing) in an attempt to alter my self-perception. When doing so, the image in the mirror provided a sense of normality, a feeling that eludes me otherwise. Is making myself over in this fashion against the fundamental will of God? Should I question the practice of cross-dressing (CDing) in light of these, and other, scriptures? The answer is an obvious yes; I should always question my motives. So what is my motive? Am I fleeing from God's creation, or am I moving towards an acceptance of it? I think a bit of both.
I view my CDing sessions as therapy. It is a way for me to connect with the part of me I learned to squelch. In a sense, I am rejecting one image in favor of the other. But in another sense, I need to do this in order to try and recapture a sense of balance. The pendulum swings in both directions, and for many years I have pushed it too far in one direction. So, if I now go too far the other way, it is with the hope it will eventually swing back towards the middle at some point. There is some damage control that needs to be addressed. My God understands this, and His grace covers this process.
It is not just a matter of accepting who I am on the outside; the real struggle is trying to accept who I am on the inside. If I can do this, then I will have accomplished something that continues to last, even after the make-up is sponged off, and the wig is back in its box.
It bothers me that I have not always valued my body, that I have wished it to be "other" than it was. Where do these feelings come from? What can I do about them? Can I, through sheer will, stop myself from feeling a certain way? I think the answer is both "yes" and "no."
"No" in that it is nearly impossible to rewind the tape of my life and begin over again. I cannot avoid altogether the destructive society in which I have been raised. I am stuck with a lot of my notions of beauty and gender roles as dictated throughout my life. Yet, my answer can also be "yes", in that I can become aware of my shortcomings, and face them honestly. I can do this knowing that I am saved by grace, and that God wishes me to know the truth about myself. Coming to grips with who I am, and who I was meant to be is a goal God wishes me to pursue.
There have been times in my life when I nourished my flesh, and cared for it. There have been times in my life when I saw myself as the temple of God. Maybe only when I was very young, but those times did exist. These were the times of "the truth" about myself. The image I embraced as a child (a very young child) was the truth of who I was, and who I still am. I've just forgotten this truth.
So how do I get some of this healthy, godly perspective back?
First by recognizing, as I once did, that I am purposefully created. I may not "feel" that way, but I can begin to intellectually agree with the precept. The second is to begin the process of chipping away at the hard bitter scales of self-loathing that now cover my body. I must try and reverse some of the emotional damage that has been done. Clothing apparently is very important to me, so perhaps I should start there.
I heard a song on the radio yesterday. One of the verses went something like, "When all of your clothes feel like somebody's old throw-a-ways..."
I thought that summed it up fairly well for me. As I got older, I rarely felt comfortable in my clothes. Partly because of my gender dysphoria, but also because I seldom had a choice in the matter. When I was young, I often wore my older brother's hand-me-downs. They never really felt right. Once new, these clothes had now been well worn. While pulling his once bright orange, now a dim peach color, T-shirt over my head I was aware that it pinched under my arms and the sleeve ends were too loose. The whole shirt was twisted and stretched to fit his body, not mine. I felt like the real me was being covered up, that in some way I was being invalidated.
One day I had the rare treat of a new purchase. It was Christmas time. I must have been 8-years-old. The brightly wrapped box lay under the tree in expectation of my wide-eyed discovery. Of course clothing was not usually on my wish list, but as long as it wasn't underwear or socks, I didn't mind too much. This particular package's turn had arrived. I sat on the floor with my legs crossed, Indian-style, with the box on my lap. Tearing open one end, I pulled the box out from underneath its wrapper. I broke the tape that held on the lid. Lifting up one side, I reached in to see if I could guess what it was. My fingers told me it was rough.
"Good. It wasn't underwear, I thought, at least I sincerely hoped not."
I started to form some guesses. A new jacket? Perhaps a shirt? Maybe a new pair of jeans; the kind that would "squeak" as you walked down the halls at school. If my brother's clothes were too worn, my mom would usually shop at thrift stores to fill in the "gaps," so the feel of something new, was always appreciated. Finally I pulled the new treasure out from under its lid. It was pants. Purple ones. I was flabbergasted. Purple pants? She had bought purple pants? I then flashed back on a moment, a few months previous, when my mother had asked me what my favorite color was. I had indeed told her it was "purple". So that Christmas I received one pair of pants, one shirt, a jacket and socks...all purple. Since then, whenever anyone inquires as to my favorite color, I always answer blue or black - it's safer.
A couple of years ago I was out shopping, needing to purchase some replacement items, and I began to realize that I was still under the influence of the fashion sense of my older brother and my mother. I gravitated towards the familiar, no matter how cold it left me inside. I realized that in many ways, she was still dressing me. Being "thrifty" I became aware that almost none of the items I wore were purchased by me. Most of my wardrobe was comprised of Christmas and birthday gifts, sporting event give-a-ways, hand-me-ups and downs, task-specific items, and yes, still even some thrift store purchases. The only articles of clothing I had chosen for myself were my fem ones. I wasn't even sure what I liked in male attire, if anything at all.
Since then, I have tried to make a conscious effort to actually shop for some men's clothing that speaks of who I am. Obviously, I have no problems with my female purchases, but finding a male item that says "me" is more difficult. What I really want to do, is to stop feeling like my mother is dressing me, and find a male expression that more closely resembles how I feel inside. Since I am forced to live with at least one foot in the male world, I might as well try and be comfortable. With all the choices available, I should be successful.
If you have not been clothes shopping for awhile, perhaps it is time. Purchase something "male" that you like, and is comfortable. You may be surprised by how it makes you feel. You may not feel like you deserve it, but you might just need it.
Kathy Randall
