This piece was commissioned as part of the In Our Own Words series, which seeks to share the voices and experiences of marginalized individuals. You can find all of the pieces in this series here.

The photo above is of Bee Winward, the author of this post, outside an LDS church last month. Bee identifies as non-binary or genderqueer, and uses they/them pronouns. They went to support a friend at church but does not regularly attend. Bee wrote a guest post for Exponent earlier here about their experience growing up LDS and queer. Bee also welcomes queer youth or their parents who need to talk to reach out to them via their Instagram handle “just.bee” or on Facebook under their username “B Smalls Winward”.

Living in the United States means that the majority of people I interact with daily are Christian. This means almost all of them believe in a version of Jesus as their God and redeemer, which can be such a beautiful thing. In one of my favorite meetings with an LDS bishop, we discussed the characteristics of Jesus that we all want to develop (such as charity, humility and meekness). Every member of the church is urged to work on these attributes. These Christ-like traits have no gender.  

In the bible, there are many instances of Jesus doing incredible things. For example, leprosy at that time was poorly understood and was actually thought of as sin. It was considered something so disgusting that people would not even interact with someone who had it. I can imagine what it would be like to see people crossing the street to get away from me, talking about me like I wasn’t there, purposely not making eye contact, and even openly talking about how I am worthless or disgusting. No one at the time knew how it was transmitted, or that 98% of the world’s population is naturally immune, and they were scared. Leprosy starts out with a simple spot or sore but can end with open gaping wounds and even missing full limbs. Jesus didn’t think like everyone else. He saw the person, the human, their beating heart and felt compassion for their feelings – and he chose to heal them (Mark 1:40-45). He could look at a leper and say, “This is a person who has a family. They may not have hands but they have a heart that beats and a head that thinks and a soul that feels. That is what matters.”

As a person who is visibly off the gender binary, I have been approached by strangers all over the world and asked: “Are you a boy or a girl?” Sometimes the more shy strangers have someone else ask it for them. Still other times it is just whispered as I pass by while children are gathered closer to their mothers out of fear or confusion. Sometimes it makes me feel like a bad or threatening person and it’s hard. Some days it makes me laugh and feel sneaky. And still other days it feels like a heavy weight of “this again…?” 

Depending on the situation, and in what way they’ve asked, I have come up with various answers to the question, “Are you a boy or a girl?” Most of the time if the person asking is a child I respond with a question back to them: “What do you think?” Generally they answer it and we move on to something more exciting in their young brain. Or sometimes I simply tell them “I am not really a boy or a girl, just a human.” Mostly they say “cool” and we just keep playing. Kids are great because they don’t require you to make your own space, they just give it to you. 

If I am stopped by a young adult, as I sometimes am in a bathroom or a hallway or a store with the same question, I tend to look at them and smile then say “yeah, I am.” If they press the issue, I generally repeat myself and say “yes” again. 

If the asker is an adult my general response (especially for men) is, “Which gender will get you to treat me better? Because I want that one!” Always with a big smile on my face.

We are asking the wrong question by asking “are you a boy or a girl?” (This is one of our first experiences with black and white thinking, only in this case it has been painted blue or pink.) Remember, I do not know any of these people. Usually this is the first time I have ever seen or spoken to these people, and sadly, it is usually the last time we will ever see or speak to each other. 

I wonder why we see gender as something so important when the kind of person we are is what really matters. Even Jesus talks about “judge not that ye be not judged” and “love one another.” (Matt 7:1, and John 13: 34.) I wish people understood that it’s ok to approach me (and LGBT folks) and ask me a simple question like, “Hello! What are your pronouns?” or “I like your shirt! What are your pronouns?” or even “Nice haircut, how do you identify?” Just something simple. I would then be able to reply and say, “I use they/them. Thanks for asking. What are your pronouns?” It would make me feel seen, and I would know they were an ally. It would also open us up for further conversation. 

People often worry about offending someone by asking for pronouns and the person turning out to not be queer, (which is a mindset we could spend a long time unpacking, because if someone is not queer they shouldn’t even be phased by the question, as being queer is just another branch of society in most places of the world) but if you’re uncertain, just ask! We can tell when someone asks or tells us something in a way that they are open to talking about it. If someone is uncomfortable with the questions, that’s okay. You’re still paving the way to help normalize these conversations, and helping to make the world safe for queer people like myself.

Let’s look at this example of not following social norms: the woman who washes Jesus’ feet. (Luke 7: 37-50) In my imagination her name is Romi and she has an eye for being the cleverest in most rooms, and she is strong and creative and a problem solver. She wants more than anything to be seen and valued. While at the same time knowing that she is considered less than by society, and looked down upon to the level of being openly mocked by those around her. Imagine that being yourself in society is actually thought of as evil (seeing any parallels yet?).  Despite this, you approach someone who is thought to be not only a holy person sent to save all of humanity, but also a potential king and governor. You are openly mocked by the men in the room, who you are not allowed to address, but you continue to show that you believe in your own worth and then have that worth validated by someone so powerful. Jesus saw her as she wanted to be seen. He basically said “I am here to judge, and I am not judging you.” I am sure he thanked her by looking into her eyes and speaking directly to her, and then forgave her sins as the story tells. Customs didn’t matter to him. If you met someone like Romi, how would you treat them?

I see often in my day to day goings on that our society puts a lot more weight on being “right” and following the social norms than they care about knowing or loving a person. If we were following Jesus’ example, I don’t think it would actually be that way. It would be so meaningful to me as a nonbinary person to see more people concerned about how I am actually doing than correcting my self presentation.

Here is another bible story to illustrate how Jesus interacted with those around him. One of my favorite parts of the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead is that before performing the miracle they all wept together, (John 11: 32-44) showing how to be empathetic and showing us there is community with friends and family to go through grief. It is so important that we can process and experience our emotions and then heal through them. I can imagine Lazarus coming out of the tomb and also weeping – but this time with joy.

This story is so relatable to someone coming out. I remember when I was first coming out, I would get so nervous that someone would be rude to me or would tell me basically that I was “dead” to them. Again, there is a lot we could unpack there, and how amazing would it be to have it finish like the end of the Lazarus story? All of them hugging and smiling and crying and maybe even joking. Being human, the most human way possible, from heart to heart. It didn’t matter that he had died, or was really smelly or that the others were full of snot and tears, they all came together with love. If or when someone comes out to you, you can put all other feelings aside to hug them and weep with joy. Know that they came out to you because you are a safe person, and if you have any grief you need to work through, I would urge you to do that with your safe people, and not with the person who came out to you. As stated earlier, it is important to work through our feelings. And ultimately, it is most important to love each person for who they are.

Love is what matters. I wonder if the sisters of Lazarus wished for something different during their last moments with their brother. The sisters thought they would never see Lazarus again. Jesus connected with them emotionally and empathetically and then granted their miracle. For me, a miracle in my life has been getting top surgery (this means surgically removing breast tissue and often reshaping the nipples to have a more masculine look, similar to how a cisgender woman would get a breast augmentation to feel more comfortable in her own body, just in reverse). It has literally made me feel at home within myself. I wish more people would take the time to connect emotionally and empathetically with me. Most people don’t really understand it. About a month before I had top surgery, an old friend reached out to me, crying. Alarmed at first, I kept asking what was wrong. Her response was something to the effect of: “I am so worried that you are destroying your body, and god will take away blessings from you.” It still doesn’t make sense to me that she couldn’t say something more like my family member who said “I don’t understand it and I know it will make you happy.” Or even better something as simple as one of my dear mission friends said: “It has been so cool seeing you find yourself and stand up for yourself.”

I can see that people have big hesitations in letting people live outside of strict gender roles for three main reasons: either they think it’s morally wrong (God says it’s wrong), they are uncomfortable (I don’t understand this), or they think that someone is making an irreversible mistake in making any kind of gender bending changes (this person will have regrets- another thing we could take much longer unpacking). We could talk statistics on how so few people regret or stop their transition (less than 2% Oxford University Press), or we can talk about how every person deserves humanity, regardless of gender or expression. 

We are taught that when Jesus arrived he would save everyone, and many people took that to mean something a little different. Some people thought he would be a literal king, magistrate, or someone in politics. Many people thought he would lead a revolution. Other people thought he would be some kind of priest or prophet. I wonder how many people believed before he arrived that he would ‘break the mold’ in all the ways that he did, and start the revolution of love that he did. I don’t necessarily believe in the version of Jesus most churches believe in, and I can look to him as an example of a kind, loving, and accepting person in history. People all over the world ask the simple question, “What would Jesus do?”, and the answer is usually just to love everyone exactly as they are. Gender tends to be a way of stereotyping others and expecting them to live within our social norms, and we all have subconscious expectations and biases when we meet people. Jesus showed us by example to abandon all of these and just love people.

For those who believe Jesus will return again, what ways can we imagine him once again breaking the mold of what society has been teaching? What if Jesus’ first stop isn’t to a temple or a chapel, but to a community of outsiders who need his balm the most? Jesus lived only a short time on earth reaching out to those who were othered by society, like the lepers, women, and children. As a non-binary person in this society, I have felt like a leper or untouchable to some of those around me. I believe Jesus will be happy to embrace me fully, and that he won’t be afraid of how I am different. 

I know that Jesus won’t need to ask me, “Are you a boy or a girl?” He’ll just say, “Come here my child, and sit with me, I want to know you, heal you, and be here with you.”