Behind the scenes of "Ask a transgender Christian"
Earlier in September of 2012, Rachel contacted me to see if I would be willing to be interviewed as part of her popular blog series titled "AKS A…" Would I be willing to be in the hot seat for "Ask a Transgender Christian?" My new friend Justin Lee, executive director of the Gay Christian Network (GCN) and author of the soon to be released book "Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays-vs.-Christians Debate" suggested me as the person to ask. (In the same way, Justin is the person Rachel chose for the "Ask a Gay Christian" interview.
Having followed Rachel for several months, my initial reaction to her email was disbelief and trepidation, given the intellectual and theological depth of her blog. “Me? She wants to ask me? Why?” But I also felt safe with her, and from everything I had read in her blog posts, I knew she would not be throwing me to the lions. I agreed to take on the challenge.
The “ASK A…” interviews work as follows: first, she posts a photo and a short bio of the person to be interviewed and invites her readers to pose questions and vote for the questions others have already asked. After about twenty-four hours, she cuts off the input and selects between eight and ten questions; these then become the interview. After you receive the questions, you have four days to respond. Once she gets your answers, she does a quick editorial review and posts your response. Sound simple? Well, let me tell you.
The process is straightforward, but the prospect of facing some hard questions is disquieting. In the back of my mind was the nagging thought that everything I said would be shot full of holes and I would look like an absolute idiot. “What was I thinking?” and “Who did I think I was?” Yes, pride and vanity did get in the way, and so did my sense of vulnerability. I admit it; I care what people think about me, and I always have. And there is the nugget, as it were, that kept me in a constant state of high anxiety and provided the motivation I needed never to let my guard down as I tried to live as a man of good standing in the club for so many years.
But as they say, the proverbial cat has been out of the bag for, let’s see, five years. (It was the middle of October 2007 when I began disclosing to family and friends that some seismic changes were about to happen in my life.) So why would a set of questions now, all of which I had already answered at least a zillion times, suddenly reawaken such a deep and gnawing insecurity? The reason is simple; responding to these questions honestly required me to go through a process akin to disrobing in front of people. The process also caused me to relive some harrowing experiences, but it also evoked some beautiful memories of how things were between my ex-wife and me, the life we had together, and how we tried to save our marriage.
In the interview, I did not give her enough credit, not because I forgot, but because my words could not have done justice to how much she gave and how much I appreciated and respected her. From accounts of spouses and significant others of transgender persons, there is a sense of betrayal-slash-lack of appreciation that is experienced by them when, despite all their best efforts and sacrifice for their loved one, they transition. “Didn’t I do enough for you that you could not remain as my husband?” My ex-wife never said this to me, but she told me I rejected her. That was her way of saying the same thing—that I had rejected all she had done for me, that it had not been enough to keep me as a man.
October 19 is our wedding anniversary; this year would have been thirty-eight years. It may not be fair for me to talk about this publicly and pretend to fully understand the pain she has experienced due to my decisions. I try to put myself in her shoes, but it is useless. It is far better for me to say I am sorry that my need to survive eclipsed my ability to say no to transition.
So there you have it. These were the things going on behind the scenes as I answered the questions.
Postscript — I was very touched by how sensitively Rachel’s readers asked the questions and the many follow-up comments to the interview. I thank them all for being as kind and generous as they have shown to be. And if you take the time to read the interview, your comments will also be appreciated.
Postscript 2 — I had the privilege of meeting Rachel in person at the 2014 GCN conference in Chicago in the crowded lobby. We were about fifty feet apart when we made eye contact, and we recognized each other immediately from the photos we had seen of each other. She was genuinely as excited to meet me as I was to meet her. It was humbling. I thanked her for introducing me to her audience and her incredible openness and sensitivity. I shared how total strangers would come up to me if I were the person she interviewed and would thank me for helping them understand (which still happens to this day).
Postscript 3 — Sadly, Rachel died on Saturday, May 4, 2019, at a hospital in Nashville. She was 37. Her husband, Daniel Evans, said in a statement on her website that the cause was extensive brain swelling. During treatment for an infection last month, Ms. Evans began experiencing brain seizures and was placed in a medically induced coma from which she didn’t recover. R.I.P., Rachel; your books and your blog will continue to inspire and teach those who are genuine seekers.
