It was nothing short of inevitable that, sooner or later, the transgender movement—or what some prefer to call the transgender craze or cult—would begin to collapse in upon itself. Transgenderism is so contrary to reason, so contrary to science, and so contrary to God’s design for humanity that it cannot be sustained indefinitely. It seems that we may have already hit “peak trans” and are now witnessing the early stages of its demise. Sadly, though, it will have claimed many victims before it eventually becomes just another ugly footnote in humanity’s endless attempts to defy God.
Kyla Gillespie grew up in British Columbia and, from a young age, found that she was different from most girls. She was a tomboy who enjoyed stereotypically male pursuits and even male ways of dress and physical expression. In the early days of her dawning sexuality, she began to realize she was attracted to girls more than boys and that she experienced crippling gender dysphoria, eventually coming to believe that she had been born into the wrong body. Having been raised in a Christian home, this shocked and dismayed her, and for a time she resisted it. Yet her life had not been easy. In the wake of childhood abuse, her parents’ divorce, and her father’s near-abandonment of her, she was both angry and vulnerable. Her love for hockey and her ability to play it at a pro level took her far from home and introduced her to a lifestyle very different than the one she grew up with. Before long, she was not only an out lesbian but also considering what it might mean to attempt to live out the rest of her days as a man—to transition herself first socially and then physically.
In Transformed, she tells how she made her decision and then began the process: first undergoing a voluntary hysterectomy and beginning to take testosterone, then advancing to a mastectomy. She transitioned so successfully that it became rare for people to consider her anything other than a man named Brycen. There was just one major procedure still remaining—the “bottom” surgery that would replace her female genitals with something akin to the male equivalent.
Yet, though she was accepted for this procedure and came close to undergoing it, she never did. What prevented her? In God’s providence, she came into contact with Christians through a recovery program for alcoholism. These Christians, leaders within a local church, loved her, cared for her, and challenged her, always standing firm on their conviction that she was a woman and only ever would be a woman, no matter how she might harm her body. The process was slow, but the Lord worked through these believers and slowly opened Kyla’s eyes until she came to agree with them. She eventually made the decision to detransition hormonally, socially, and surgically. Today she is a Christian woman who loves the Word, loves sound doctrine, and is eager to share her experience with others and to tell them about God’s love for the lost, confused, and broken.
I found Transformed helpful in a number of ways. First, it powerfully describes what it is like to experience significant gender dysphoria and to obsessively agonize over one’s body. This is not an experience I have ever had, so it was helpful to read such a vivid description of it so I can better understand and sympathize with those who struggle in this way. Second, it shows how childhood struggles and traumas can manifest themselves later in confusion about identity and the body. It may be too simplistic to say that a “father wound” drove Kyla to transgenderism or that it was sexual abuse that had been inadequately addressed, but perhaps her story might have been different had her father loved her better and had she received the help she needed after her abuse. Third, it shows how Christians can play a unique role in reaching those who struggle with issues related to sexuality and identity, and fourth, how they can do this without compromising their convictions. Fifth, it gave me a better understanding of just how complicated it is for someone to detransition. We may think this is a simple change of heart or mind, but it may be far more complicated. Artificial hormones must be slowly tapered down instead of immediately stopped; ways of mimicking the other gender may have become deeply ingrained and will need to be unlearned; and artificial masculine or feminine traits will only ever partially diminish. Just as transitioning is a process, so is detransitioning.
Kyla’s story is sad and tragic, yet also powerful and encouraging. It may encourage those who know and love someone who is attempting to transition, or who already has, for it will prove that as long as God is active, hope is never lost. It may encourage those who have transitioned, or who are considering it, that God has better plans and purposes than attempting to change something that no man or woman can actually ever change. And it may encourage churches to extend patient grace as they have the opportunity to minister to the victims of one of the most pernicious ideologies of our day. I’m sure it took a lot of courage for Kyla to tell her story, and I’m so thankful that she did.
