Learning What I Need in a Friendship The Hard Way.
Is Anything Sacred Once Gender Ideology Rears its Ugly Head?
I’d like to share a story of a disturbing experience I recently had with a white “transwoman” who I encountered at a black woman centered healing circle, and how my discomfort was received amongst the women in my midst after I shared my honest, uncensored feelings.
The events leading up to this experience were very beautiful, richly layered, and emotionally complex—all happening within the span of a single day.
By the time I got home, I found myself sorting through my feelings alone in the dark, in deep reflection on my needs for community and friendship at this point in my life. This experience has brought me immense clarity.
I felt that I had gone through an intensely concentrated lesson that needed to be processed, piece by piece. So, I will start from the very beginning.
This weekend, I attended a multicultural Arts event in a local park. It was a warm sunny afternoon; one of the last summery days of Fall. I was eager to spend time outdoors, in nature, and hopefully, in community with like-spirited brown folks.
Much to my chagrin, I arrived at the park entrance furthest away from the event, and it was a real hike to get to the actual event location, especially while trekking in the hot sun, wearing my black city-slicker boots without any lunch in my belly.
Just as I arrived at the final hill, a park shuttle rolled up with a very sweet elderly black woman in the backseat. I waved them down and asked what route they were taking. They were headed to the event. Grandma encouraged me to hop inside, and so I did.
As the shuttle zoomed us uphill through a scenic forest trail, Grandma and I complained about how it had been too much damn walking for the both of us, while basking in the spirit of relief and gratitude for the beautiful ride.
We finally arrived at an open nook in the forest filled with colorful hues and gentle music. A cozy crowd had gathered around to watch a group of teens performing as a Chinese Dragon.
I walked a bit further and there was another crowd quietly watching a more spiritual performance piece that looked like the lovechild of For Colored Girls and Daughters of the Dust.
The land was somewhat expansive, so there were multiple performances going on at any given time, each in their own unique section. As I walked further, the space continued to open up to me.
Eventually, I gazed down at the bottom of a hill and saw 3 black women dressed in flowing white garb, preparing for what appeared to be an Orisha ceremony from the ancient Yoruba religion. A circle filled with flowers, oranges, and crystals nestled at the center of the flat grassy area they were standing on, so I knew this was part of their performance piece.
As I walked towards the area, I noticed a number of black lesbians speckled in the crowd, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Yes, you can always find us celebrating the goddesses!
That’s when I saw Her.
She was a slender, strikingly beautiful woman with richly dark skin and a fully shaven head. Her jeweled piercings and adornments sparkled against her skin, which she tastefully showed off through a unique style, reminiscent of free-spirited island vibes.
I had seen this woman a couple of times before, at other outdoor events. She looked like a South Sudanese Supermodel, so she naturally stood out in a crowd. But it was her energy that really drew me in. Bright, glowing, and effervescent.
The first time I saw her, it felt like I had spotted a majestic wildlife creature, or a dreamy vista at golden hour. I actually tapped the girl sitting next to me on the shoulder and said, “Look!”
Her presence filled up the whole space, even though we were all outside by the ocean. She was like the sun, shining light and warmth onto everyone around her.
For that reason, I will call her Radiance.
I had always wanted to talk to Radiance, but every time I saw her, she was surrounded by other people and it didn’t feel right. So, I didn’t force it. I knew that I would see her again, and that the right time for us to connect would align. Today was that day.
The event did not allow anyone to bring food to park grounds, but there she was, sitting by herself on a picnic blanket with a plant-based feast spread out in front of her: a colorful array of salads, hummus wraps, dips, and sauces—all apparently homemade.
I walked up and stood at her front, while she was busy making a wrap.
She looked up at me and said, “Hi beauty!”
I started gushing. “Hi, I see you everywhere! I just want to say that you are so beautiful. I know you must hear this all the time, but really….you’re just like sooo beautiful.”
She took in my compliment and nodded her head at the point about hearing it all the time, but not in a way that brushed me off. She fully received me, while also taking ownership of her beauty. I loved that.
We started chit-chatting, introducing ourselves, talking about our creative journeys, and how we’re flowing through life. A few minutes later, she asked me if I was doing anything, invited me to sit with her, and offered me a full salad plate with hummus, Dill dressing, and Falafel.
I told her I felt blessed. She affirmed that I was blessed.
This was the beginning of our day together.
We sat for hours on her blanket, talking, laughing, and eating in the sun.
Our conversation veered into politiks when I told her that I’m from a white liberal area that’s seeped in ‘woke’ culture, and how I’m glad to be out of that pressure cooker.
She revealed that she held a controversial, yet convicted opinion about the “unnaturalness” of homosexuality, which I found interesting because she also expressed that she is same-sex attracted, and that she identified as lesbian for a long time.
I’d like to write a separate essay about that topic because it brought up a lot of thoughts and feelings for me. But for now, I say this to say—I got the impression that she was open-minded enough to handle some of my views on gender, and her admission of her own politically incorrect views made me feel comfortable sharing mine too.
However, throughout this conversation, it appeared that she held some commonly-held ideas about transgenderism that didn’t add up, like the idea that babies can be born trans…or that males who “genuinely” identify as women are automatically part of a vulnerable population, and that it’s OK that they be housed in women’s prisons because they need protection from other males. That is obviously not an opinion I share, and I explained why.
Either way, I felt free to share my perspectives without being met with a wall, and that mattered a lot to me. We talked about how white the pronoun rituals are, and how afraid people are of affirming the truth. We joked about how we’re uncancellable, and how we will speak freely regardless of the way in which other people may judge us for it.
I was excited for this new connection that felt so aligned, and I happily accepted the invitation to join her for more adventures, which included galavanting at the lake, drinking homemade smoothies, and later that evening—a Sacred Healing Circle.