Remembering What We Were Before the World Told Us Who to Be
There are many reasons why I have always felt like I didn't belong. My upbringing, my spirit, my interests, the way I moved in the world...none of it ever seemed to line up with what people expected from me. I’ve always carried what some would call a young heart and an old soul. That’s still true today.
As I got older, I noticed something missing in a lot of the adults around me. There was a hardness, a kind of emotional numbness. A disconnection from the small, sacred things in life. They had forgotten how to laugh from the gut. They’d stopped letting tears come without shame.
Some might call that the loss of childhood innocence. But that word never fit for me. I’ve never believed innocence was about being pure or perfect. None of us are. What we lose when we grow-up is not innocence. It’s the ability to stay close to the Divine. It’s the loss of our connection to being children of God.
And for me, as a Black Trans man, that disconnection came layered with even more weight.
I didn’t just watch people grow cold. I had to fight to stay soft in a world that told me I shouldn’t exist. I’ve had to reclaim myself in pieces. Had to return to who I’ve always been, not who others decided I should be.
The world tried to tell me that being a man meant being hardened. That manhood was about dominance, suppression, silence. But I knew deep in my spirit that wasn’t the kind of man I came here to be. I didn’t come to perform masculinity. I came to embody wholeness.
As a Trans man, my existence confuses some and threatens others. But to me, it is proof of God's creative brilliance. My identity didn’t pull me away from God. It brought me closer. It reminded me that I, too, am divinely made. That my manhood is not up for debate. That softness and strength can live in the same body.
I still smile at the moon. I still speak to the sun like it knows my name. I still get moved to tears by music, by beauty, by small gestures of care. That’s not weakness. That’s remembrance.
I remember who I was before the world told me I needed fixing. Before it told me I had to choose between being accepted and being free.
Being Trans in this world often means being misunderstood. Being Black and Trans, doubly so. But I carry the wisdom of those who came before me. Our ancestors weren’t limited by the binary or colonial definitions of gender. Many African cultures had language for those who lived outside the lines. Gender expansiveness wasn’t seen as unnatural. It was sacred.
The West may try to erase that truth, but I embody it. I carry it in my walk, in my words, in my spirit.
When I say I’m a child of God, I don’t mean it in a religious sense. I mean I am connected to Source, to the earth, to something ancient and true. I mean I still see wonder in the rain. I still believe in joy without condition. I still think love is our native language and that we only forget it when we start chasing the false gods of this world: power, fame, money, ego.
I see how adults stop protecting one another. How they stop protecting themselves. But I believe we would all move differently if we returned to that childlike place within. Not childish...but child-like. Honest. Soft. Open. Connected.
When people say children don’t see color, they miss the point. Children do see color, but they haven’t yet been taught to fear it or weaponize it. Children of God see each other and reflect love. That’s what we’re meant to do.
I’m still a child of God. Still that child of God who saw the world with wide eyes and felt everything deeply. I didn’t lose that. I chose to protect it. Even when it hurt. Even when the world told me to become numb or toughen up. Even when I wanted to.
If more of us found our way back to softness, to joy, to Spirit, we might remember who we are. And if we remembered, we might finally start to treat each other like we matter. We might honor the God in one another.
I am a Black Trans man, and I still cry. I still pray. I still smile. I still dream. I still believe.
Because I haven’t forgotten what we were before the world told us who to be.
