She wanted to be a boy, and I loved her
Meng Hui // October 3, 2018, 4:52 pm
I met Cassie when we were 17, at a leadership camp in school. We were assigned to sleep in the same bunk with a couple of other girls, and it wasn’t long before I noticed that she was strangely uncomfortable with being in such close proximity with us.
At first I thought it was just her feeling shy about having to change clothes in the presence of other girls, and would even ensure that the “coast was clear” for her to be in the room. This was the start of a quickly blossoming friendship.
It also meant that she soon revealed to me that she didn’t see herself as a girl, but a boy trapped in a girl’s body. Living in the same room as a bunch of girls had been as awkward for her as it would have been for any other guy.
She told me that she wished to have a gender reassignment in the future, and was forward about her feelings for me. For a while I was flustered at her confession, but I admit that I was also falling in love with the little acts of love that she showed me.
Sometimes people ask what’s the difference between a close friendship between girls and a romantic relationship, but the lines cross when you start thinking of a person as a partner in life. The way you show affection and think about the person changes, and you want more of everything: More time, more touch, more anything together.
Cassie was definitely more than a friend, but I was also a new Christian and had been attending church regularly. I’d heard sermons about same-sex relationships and read verses in the Bible that warned against such relations. So as much as I wanted to pursue a committed relationship with her, it didn’t sit comfortably in my heart.
But given the growing feelings we had for each other, I resorted to dating her in secret – and praying to God for another way out that would allow me to be with the person I loved, as well as continue going to church without the guilt.
The burden of living this double life ultimately resulted in me leaving the church to avoid the pain of hiding this from my friends and leaders altogether.
However, this newfound freedom to date Cassie only heightened the tension I was carrying. Life was so different without God; so much harder and more painful. And eight months into our relationship, she called it quits. Turns out she’d been eyeing someone else all this while.
Devastated, I had nowhere else to turn but back to my church.
My pastor was very kind and warmly received me when I came out to her. She even answered the many questions I had – if Cassie had undergone gender reassignment surgery to become a male, would our relationship have been considered heterosexual?
(Her answer was no, because her gender from birth was still female.)
My cell leader was also very supportive, not forcing me to let go of the relationship even as I grieved its end, and instead encouraged me to read the Bible and seek God for myself. Through their love and grace shown, I decided to devote myself to church once again.
Around this time, I came across a video on my Instagram feed that really spoke to me. It was a sermon clip of how rejection is God’s protection over you, even if you can’t see it in the moment. And that by taking something away, He always has something better in store.
To all the singles out there, I encourage you to pray over the relationships you might still be hoping for, and to let go of the ones that are not working out. It won’t be easy, but remember that God will not forsake or forget you. His love is enough for you. Focus on deepening your relationship with Him.
I am thankful for the teachers, mentors and pastors who helped me walk through this. For those in church who have struggles with same-sex attraction, I hope that you don’t walk away from the faith like I did, but choose to put your sexuality in God’s hands and allow others to journey with you.
God has a plan to prosper all of us – even (and especially) in our relationships – and in His perfect time, we can believe that all things will be made beautiful.
Names have been changed for confidentiality.