"In our hearts, we are still Mennonite Brethren . . . but it doesn’t seem like it is open to us and our family now." Family shares journey with trans child

The parents reached out to me. They wanted to tell their story about their journey with a trans child. 

They are long time members of a Mennonite Brethren church in Canada. They requested anonymity; they still aren’t sure who they can tell, or how their church will respond to them. 

So let’s call them Barb and Thomas. I’ll call their child Sam. 

Sam is in their early 20s, a young adult, the eldest of four children in the family. Since about the age of 14, Sam knew something felt off—they didn’t feel like the female gender they had been born into. (Sam prefers neutral pronouns.)

They kept quiet for a long time, not telling anyone, not even their parents. Then, a few years ago, they went to their parents to tell their story. 

“Sam came into the room one night to talk to us,” said Barb. “’I need to tell you something,” they said. “’I’m trans.’” 

While taken by surprise, Barb and Thomas assured Sam they loved them. “We had decided years ago there was nothing our children would do that would end our love for them,” Barb said. “Including this.” 

Barb remembers praying that night after Sam broke the news. 

“I told God I didn’t know what to do with this. I told God I loved my child and I loved God. I said if it’s a phase, help us all get through it well. If it isn’t, help me make sense of it, since it goes against everything I have been taught at church. I asked God to give me wisdom and clarity. And that I was always willing to learn and be open to new things.” 

For Thomas, it was hard at first to process what Sam had said. 

“I wasn’t sure what it meant,” he said. “Maybe it was just a phase they were going through and things would go back to way the way things were before. But it was not to be.” 

As it turned out, Sam had given it a lot of thought before announcing it to their parents. 

“They didn’t see themself as fitting with who they saw themselves to be as a female,” Thomas said. “The girl’s name we had given them didn’t fit, either.” 

“That was not my lived experience, so it wasn’t easy for me to identify with Sam,” Thomas said. “But I could identify with their pain.” 

Sam wanted to talk about surgery to remove their breasts, but Barb and Thomas asked them to slow down a bit. Ultimately, they agreed it was best, as was the process of officially changing their name from a female name to a male name. 

While happy for Sam, Thomas admits he also “grieved the end of my daughter.” Yet he and Barb constantly told Sam “we loved them, that there was nothing they could do that would change that love for them.” 

Thinking back on the experience, Barb now realizes Sam was in pain for a long time before they told their parents. 

“I’m sorry they didn’t feel they could tell us earlier,” she said. 

But she understands how hard it was for Sam, not knowing if their parents might reject them. 

That was partly due to the family being part of a Mennonite Brethren church where conversations about sexual identity were never held and likely not permitted, and where something like being trans was considered disordered or even sinful. 

“Now I know how incredibly hard it is for LGBTQ+ or trans kids in Mennonite Brethren churches to come out.”  

“Now I know how incredibly hard it is for LGBTQ+ or trans kids in Mennonite Brethren churches to come out,” she said. 

The next challenge was what to say to friends and family. 

“At first we could hardly tell anyone,” Barb said. “We had to make sure it was safe.” 

Most who they have told have been open and accepting. But some have struggled. “Some have a different perspective,” she said. 

Barb and Thomas have come to peace about it, although he admits it’s still a challenge for him theologically. 

“Things aren’t black and white as before, but I still have some questions,” he said. “I still believe God created us and loves us, and wants to be in a relationship with us—and that means all of us, including Sam.” 

“This isn’t a salvation issue. There is lots of room for grace and acceptance.

One thing he is sure of is “this isn’t a salvation issue. There is lots of room for grace and acceptance. In the midst of this, God is still very present and real.” 

For Barb, who is in leadership in her church as a volunteer, the next step is what she can tell her pastor and others. 

“I want to be honest, but I don’t know what the reaction will be,” she says. This could include being asked to step down from her leadership position—which she is OK with, if it comes to that. 

If Barb and Thomas have to leave their church because of it—because of what the Confession says—that will be hard. “But increasingly we just don’t feel we fit in the Mennonite Brethren conference anymore,” she said. 

That last bit is a sticking point for the couple. 

"In our hearts, we are still Mennonite Brethren . . . but it doesn’t seem like it is open to us and our family now.” 

“We’ve visited other affirming churches, and they are fine,” Barb said. “But in our hearts, we are still Mennonite Brethren. That’s the tradition where we feel most connected. But it doesn’t seem like it [the Conference] is open to us and our family now.” 

Ironically, she added, she and Thomas feel more at home with non-church people talking about their experience. 

“They are so much more accepting and helpful to talk to. And that’s a shame, since I wish we could talk about it in the Mennonite Brethren conference. But leadership of the Conference seems scared to permit that conversation.” 

As for why she and Thomas are sharing their story, it’s because “we want anyone else having this experience to know they aren’t alone.” 

Sam’s Side of Things 

And what about Sam? How are they processing all of this? 

Looking back, they said they had a good upbringing in a loving family. As for faith, that was always a given—just the “stuff that surrounded me.” 

It was between the ages of 14 to 16 they began to feel something was off. “It took awhile to figure out what was going on,” they said. 

Once Sam was certain about who they really were, they went to their parents. 

“It was the most awkward conversation of anyone’s life,” they said, adding they appreciated how their parents reacted. 

"I didn’t think I could raise it with my youth leaders. I didn’t know how they would react.”

After coming out to family, Sam wondered where they fit into church. “I was wrestling with my faith. I knew from research that there were LGBTQ+ Christians. But I didn’t think I could raise it with my youth leaders. I didn’t know how they would react.” 

One incident that left a strong impression was when the pastor talked about the Mennonite Brethren Confession of Faith one Sunday. 

“I didn’t know much about the Confession, but when I came to the part about marriage, I knew that this church wasn’t a place for me,” Sam said. 

Sam remembers feeling terrible after reading it. 

“If this is so important to them they have to put it in the Confession, right alongside what they believe about Jesus, then I knew I couldn’t talk to anyone at church about this,” they said. 

Sam didn’t want to give up on faith, so they started connecting with queer Christians, locally and online, and then found a church that was affirming.

“I knew I needed a church, a place where I could be accepted for who I am."

Not going to church wasn’t an option. “I knew I needed a church, a place where I could be accepted for who I am, where people would celebrate joys with me like my new birth certificate, or how happy I was after my top surgery,” Sam said. 

“Those were fantastic days, and I wanted to share those things with my church.” 

Being part of an affirming church brings Sam a lot of joy. “When I saw my name in the directory, my new name, it made me so happy,” Sam said. “That’s me!” 

When asked what churches can do to support people like Sam, they said: “I just needed someone to talk to, someone to listen to me, to hear what I was going through, to hear where my pain was, where my joy was,” they said. 

When asked what they would say to people who believe what they did was wrong, Sam said: “Who are you to put limits on the love of God? How do you know where God’s love ends? Everyone is loved by God. We are all fearfully and wonderfully made. Including me.” 

Sam knows some cite Genesis, where it says God made a male and a female, as a reason why being trans is wrong. 

But, Sam notes, Genesis also says God made light and dark, earth and water. “Does that mean dusk and dawn are wrong because they are in between light and dark?” Sam asked. “Or a marshland because it is both land and water? That argument doesn’t work for me.” 

At the end of it all, Sam just feels good. “Being a teenager is hard on most people, but my mental health is so much better now,” they said. “Being called by my chosen name and pronoun has taken a lot of weight off. I no longer feel like I am drowning, like how I felt before.”