My name is Jaclyn. I was born three months prematurely. I have no idea if this represents the sole reason for my later problems, but a link does make a certain amount of sense. I was born with certain deformities which become additionally relevant within an organized religious context. Being born with any problem which makes even part of our bodies not function normally can be tragic, especially given the assumptions that religious leaders make in light of such ambiguities. My genitals were for some reason distributed in different areas of my body and only partially formed. We should label jars, rather than people, but I have to explain something about how people label those living my circumstances, or in situations similar to mine. The word ‘shemale’ is seen as a negative, even contemptuous reference, but it does describe, very roughly, someone with my physical characteristics, if not exactly. The phrase ‘trans woman’ doesn’t really fit me, either, because trans means change, and I haven’t changed anything through surgery. Because of some of the other health problems associated with my premature birth, I’m probably not healthy enough to undergo a 9-hour operation. I essentially think of myself as a woman with a birth defect, a deformity. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t dream of sharing such personal information. But I have a purpose: I want to warn people against judging what we don’t understand. In my life, Church leaders have judged me, and in my opinion, extremely unfairly, given all the facts. I also want my situation to act as a warning about how discrimination can literally change people’s lives to their detriment. When I refer to Church leaders, I mean a few of the leaders of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or as they are casually known, the Mormons. There are certain aspects of Mormon doctrine that everyone accepts as being valid and legitimate…unless you are deemed unworthy, or worthy of being discriminated against. This website is not a plea for empathy; it’s a plea for tolerance. I don’t think we have ever lived in a world as polarized as we do now, although it’s possible that human nature being what it is, the world has always been this regrettably divided. But instead of taking severe, extreme positions on what separates us, we should each seek to understand other perspectives. Of course, not all perspectives should be considered equal. On the other hand, we need to avoid the extreme of political correctness, too. Any perspective which celebrates violence is certainly not helpful to society. But if two sides are fighting, and one is violent, we need to ask ourselves: Which side started it? And when a battle has been waged for centuries, it can be hard (especially given that victors often inform histories) to know which side did indeed begin a fight. My main point in this section is that not all perspectives are equal, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t each be considered when making an informed decision about an issue. Any particular controversial perspective can be ultimately dismissed, after all, but to ignore it altogether is, in my opinion, unwise. We learn from nuance; we become ignorant through stereotypical reactions. There’s an overarching conspiracy theory that says the elites don’t care about us, and I used to think that myself. However, I’ve come to realize that our leaders have a lot of work to do to keep billions of people healthy and happy. There can be no doubt, though, that they don’t always get things right, whether they help run a Church, a country, a town, etc. The three leaders who fundamentally hurt me did not wake up each morning rejoicing in evil. They were good men, trying to do the right thing (and, in my case, failing miserably). The first leader I had who was problematic was my very first leader. He supported me in my belief that I’m a woman and that that’s how God sees me. Proof of this is that he allowed me to travel to a Mormon school in Rexburg, Idaho (then Ricks, now BYU Idaho). I lived with a bunch of other women and he even told me that there’d be no problem, that the Church accepted me as a woman, but that he would check and confirm as soon as possible. I remember fasting in appreciation of this great news; I was naïve at that time, and took what people said at face value. I was 24 years old or so at that point. But then, when I became a lot more controversial over the years, he did not defend me. In fact, he openly lied, saying he had tried to be nice to me, but that he had never actually supported me. He’d say anything to anyone in order to protect himself and not make waves. Full disclosure: Some years afterward, he wrote me a letter, apologizing for how he had treated me. An apology I totally accept, but he is still a part of my troubled story in the Mormon church. My second and third leaders were proactively meaner to me. The second one was in Provo, Utah, where I had gone after I had graduated from Ricks. This Bishop told me that he could tell I was ‘off’ when he’d first met me. He instructed me to move out from where I was living with two other girls because he said I was living a fraud and that they would be furious if they found out about me. I obediently left, since I had no choice, and returned to Nova Scotia, Canada, where I’m from. The third leader I spoke to about my situation (I was forever trying to think of anything I could say to convince them that God saw me as a woman) said he believed me to be sincere, but that he felt God was extremely displeased with me and that I could expect no mercy in the next life. He denounced my Patriarchal Blessing, where a Patriarch had laid his hands upon my head and served as a mouthpiece to God. The Patriarch had included that I am a special daughter of God, and that I have a special body and mind. My Bishop told me the Patriarch would have to re-examine his spirituality but that I had also tricked the Patriarch by not telling him about my situation. This is a very important point. Although I hadn’t planned it, I served as a test for Patriarchal Blessings, which were designed to give us a spiritual roadmap to life. Men were called to the position of Patriarch by God. We could, so the tradition goes, depend upon what the Patriarch told us in this setting. It was sacred. But now the Bishop was informing me that I should’ve told him everything about my past. I hadn’t thought it was necessary, because I was not interested in the Patriarch’s opinion about me; I wanted to know what God felt. Now I guarantee you that had my Patriarch said that I am a man, that the Bishop would have had complete faith in that message. And I would have, too, although to be honest, I don’t think even that would’ve made me change, because I would have no idea how on earth to be a man. Because the message wasn’t what my Bishop wished to hear, he went against Church doctrine, and no one ever called him on it. That’s the essence of discrimination, treating someone differently from how you treat others, based on a characteristic they have of which you don’t approve. But one expects more, or at least I did, from Church leaders. I was also called to several teaching positions in the Church, including Relief Society, the meeting for women in the Church. Apparently, we can trust that our callings are from God—unless we were born through no fault of our own and with no control over our own bodies in a deformed manner—and we can have faith these callings represent part of God’s plan for us. I have very small hands and feet, a little over 5 feet tall, with no Adam’s apple and small bones. I think totally like a woman, which I define as someone who in their mind’s eye with female role models. None of this mattered to the powers-that-be. Not the Patriarchal Blessing, not the various callings that were for women only, not the physical characteristics I possess, absolutely nothing mattered except for these Bishops’ bigotry. Recently, I realized that, because of this whole situation, I no longer cry. I honestly think that I got all cried out during this period in the Church. I also realized that I no longer feel that much emotion at all. I’m rather scared of emotion, due to all that I have suffered in that regard. My strength of thinking through situations became a weakness when I allowed it to get out of hand, by overthinking instead of just thinking. I’m just an average person who was made to suffer by a lack of understanding from people who thought they knew everything. I did not deserve to be treated with such callous indifference, especially when I was trying my very best to be a good person and had done so ever since joining the Church in May of 1991. I am not evil, just as most people aren’t evil. However, if people become cynical and jaded enough, evil is a lot closer than we might popularly suppose. We often hear from Mormon missionaries, Bishops, etc., but it might benefit us to hear people’s personal stories, like mine. Especially since I’m a fervent believer in sharing the positive as well as the negative. The leaders who discriminated against me, and the one who lied about me, were known to be good men. I especially know this about my local leaders. They held a life philosophy, in keeping with being Mormon, of serving others and doing what they can to make others’ lives better. I obviously fell through the cracks, but that does not undermine these men’s essential goodness. It is so cliché to think of them as evil, when they are anything but. Different people have different relationships with different people. They should not be judged by single incidents, even if those incidents bring a heavy weight to bear on the other stakeholders involved. This is all background to amphiism, the ideology I have created. I didn’t set out to create an ideology; it happened naturally over the course of the decade and a half after my time in the Mormon Church. How should we behave? How can we protect others, including ourselves, from misery? How can I be happy? How can I reach my full potential? How can any of us?
We often hear from Mormon missionaries, Bishops, etc., but it might benefit us to hear people’s personal stories, like mine. Especially since I’m a fervent believer in sharing the positive as well as the negative. The leaders who discriminated against me, and the one who lied about me, were known to be good men. I especially know this about my local leaders. They held a life philosophy, in keeping with being Mormon, of serving others and doing what they can to make others’ lives better. I obviously fell through the cracks, but that does not undermine these men’s essential goodness. It is so cliché to think of them as evil, when they are anything but. Different people have different relationships with different people. They should not be judged by single incidents, even if those incidents bring a heavy weight to bear on the other stakeholders involved.
This is all background to amphiism, the ideology I have created. I didn’t set out to create an ideology; it happened naturally over the course of the decade and a half after my time in the Mormon Church. How should we behave? How can we protect others, including ourselves, from misery? How can I be happy? How can I reach my full potential? How can any of us?