Thank You, Gus: For the Gift of Being Trans

Choosing love, choosing presence, choosing myself.

Today, I’m especially grateful to be trans.
Or queer. Or whatever label someone feels like putting on it.

I’ve held a lot of titles in this life—Black, parent, ex-husband, creative, spiritual being.
All of them, I’m thankful for. But being trans? It’s a special kind of teacher.

I may still be early in my journey, but one thing queerness has given me is openness.
It’s helped me see people—and myself—with less judgment, less urgency to control, and way more room for grace.

I heard once that the mark of a good parent is raising kids who are whole and open…
kids who can disagree with someone but still show them compassion.
That stuck with me. Because my life has often been lived in disagreement with the world around me.
And still, I choose love.

People have disagreed with who I am for as long as I can remember.
Add loving God into the mix and suddenly it’s spiritual blasphemy too.
But here’s the thing—I don’t need anyone’s approval to live.

That kind of power?
I’m not handing it over.

That’s why I don’t get caught up in whether people use the right pronouns.
My grandmothers still say my old name, and I still love them.
A word won’t ruin my peace, and it won’t block my connection to others. Or myself.

I need no one’s validation.
I have Gus.

They know me. I know me.
And that’s enough. Everyone else? Just a bonus. A cherry on top.

Being trans points me back inward.
Back to Gus.
And back to a kind of love that isn’t performance-based.

It reminds me that we don’t have to agree to honor each other.
I don’t want agreement.
I want presence.
I want truth.
I want freedom.

God never coerced us. Jesus didn’t either.
So why would I try to make anyone be or believe what I believe?

I choose to see people as they are.
Even when we’re different. Especially then.

Thanks, Gus.
For the freedom to live without needing to be understood.
For the eyes to see others without fear.

And for the daily reminder that who I am was never a mistake.
It was always a mirror.