Until now, I have stated that I was born male but chose to assume a feminine identity. In my case, this inclination manifested itself from childhood, although at the time I did not fully comprehend what was occurring within me. I do not intend, however, to dwell extensively on this biographical dimension.
I acknowledge that I was born male, and I do not deny this fact. It is a biological datum. Nevertheless, it is worth recalling that we also belong to the biological genus Homo sapiens—a taxonomic classification designating our species. Biology describes categories; it does not exhaust the totality of subjective experience, nor does it, by itself, determine how each individual understands their own identity.
I do not participate in this community almost daily by mere chance. I read its teachings because I identify with them and because I believe in the Gods. Throughout my life, I have persistently questioned the meaning of my own existence. If anything expressed here appears to conflict with the construction of my identity, I do not regard it as an affront, but as a legitimate occasion for debate. What I value is dialogue.
However, when, at the outset of a conversation, it is asserted that all science is manipulated solely by yehuborim, meaningful debate becomes impossible. Such a premise forecloses discussion before it can even begin, shifting the matter from the realm of rational inquiry to that of absolute suspicion.
I am not here to indoctrinate anyone. Like the others, I seek spiritual growth. And I state sincerely: if one day science—or even my own reflection—persuades me that my self-understanding is illusory, I will revise my position. I do not cling to it out of obstinacy, but out of provisional conviction.
What prompted me to speak openly was, above all, the discomfort I feel when discussions concerning “trans” individuals repeatedly associate them with abusers, pedophiles, and other moral degradations. I do not recognize myself in such imputations. They are not only morally grave, but they reduce complex individuals to demeaning stereotypes.
If it were possible to describe myself by a term other than “trans,” I might even prefer it—not out of shame, but out of a desire to distance myself from labels burdened with political disputes and collective accusations. I do not belong to any “cabal,” nor do I consider myself mentally ill. I write these words calmly, within my home, during a period of leave from work, reflecting honestly upon my life.
I genuinely appreciated your comment because it was not inflammatory; it was didactic and respectful, and I can clearly perceive your point of view.
As I attempted to explain, I have lost more than I have gained by identifying as a woman and adopting a different appearance. I am aware of the potential adverse effects of hormones upon bone health and other physiological aspects. I strive to be fair and measured in what I affirm, without denying the risks involved.
I do not participate in LGBTQ parades or political movements. I do not even have friends who share my condition; I lead a solitary and ordinary life. Certain opinions circulating publicly sometimes make me fear dying as a victim of hatred, when all I desire is to live in peace. As for the controversies regarding bathrooms, so frequently debated online and in the media, I remain largely detached. I avoid such situations whenever possible. I have never suffered any direct incident, and in most cases I am not socially perceived as male, so I do not experience what many other trans individuals report.
The High Priestess Lydia stated that the trans community is my “community.” On this point, however, I believe there is a misunderstanding: my existence is not reducible to collective affiliations. It is, above all, autonomous.
I find this debate genuinely interesting. Please feel free to speak with me.