I grew up in an Atheistic family. My mom, a single mother, was never quiet in her dislike of religion (and specifically Abrahamic ones). So naturally, I grew up without the shackles of shame and religious guilt.
I came out as bisexual at the age of eleven, after falling in love with my girl best friend. I loved being queer. I loved being “different”.
When I was seventeen, I went off to college. It was 2020– and instead of going to classes, college parties, and clubs— I had to isolate in my dorm room, alone.
For months, I was stuck there, watching pre-recorded lectures on my laptop. The only friend I had was the internet.
It started with little clips, here and there. People talking about how they “came to Jesus”. And the algorithm worked. The more Christian content I consumed, the more was shoved down my throat.
The more content I watched, the more my subconscious started pushing Jesus and biblical things into my dreams. It was a cycle of utter nonsense, but it worked.
Alone, severely depressed, in my dorm room, I started to believe.
I emailed the nearest Catholic pastoral minister and began the RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults) process.
With nothing else going on in my life, I clung to Jesus. He was going to fix every rotten thing inside of me.
So it started with Christian indoctrination.
And then I fell victim to the pipeline.
Trad wife culture. Pro life. Natural Family Planning. Submitting to My Husband. Barefoot and Pregnant. Christ is The Priority (Yes Above My Husband, Yes Above my Children, YES ABOVE MYSELF).
I became obsessed. Right wing politics and TradCath teachings became my “special interest”.
My little queer self, unashamed, open, unflinching, was gone.
I started blogging. Networking with other Catholic women. Bullying LGBT people. Getting into fights with anyone that didn’t follow the biblical teachings to a T.
But it’s been six years. I’ve slowly outgrown it. And I can’t believe what a monster I used to be. I ran so far away from the truth and from myself. I wasted precious years of my life pretending to be someone I wasn’t.
It’s July 2026 now. And tomorrow I meet with a doctor to start HRT.
Two months ago I finally came out to my fiancé. He’s known about my gender dysphoria for years. I told him I couldn’t hide anymore and we decided to separate.
I’m bisexual, I’m transgender, and I DON’T forgive god. I don’t forgive the people who manipulated a vulnerable, mentally ill 18 year old girl and made me hate myself and my own community.
I don’t forgive christians and their “christian love”. I don’t forgive myself for turning my internalized hate toward my own community.
I apologize to all LGBT people I affected with my words and actions. I love being trans. I love being bisexual and queer and weird and “different”.
I don’t know why I’m making a post here, and probably only like two people will see this. I just wanted to remind people that a lot of people that act in hate are just suffering inside. I just hated myself. but i don’t anymore.
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