#“our son came out as trans. please pray that God will guide him back to the right path” or some bullshit. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

things-we-used-tc-share · 5 years

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Guiding Light

Warnings: Coming Out, Struggles with sexuality and gender, religion

Ship: Remile

Plot: Remy is struggling to come out, but he bites the bullet anyway, reinstating that throughout everything he has always been, to Emile, the bravest person he’s ever known.

(In which Emile is a flowery British boy and Remy is a badass Maltese and Catholic trans man)

“Relate to my youth,

Well I’m still in awe of you,

Discover some new truth,

That was always wrapped around you,”

-Guiding Light, Mumford and Sons

Remy has always been bad at his religion. Growing up on a small island in the Mediterranean infamous for its lack of giving a shit about everyone else’s feelings, he’d entered professional boxing in which he’d kicked the shit out of other people at the age of twelve. He was good at fighting, he enjoyed fighting. Growing up with a female body in a world full of men, being able to fight was a good thing. Yet, the realization that he’s not a girl still came with its shocked in the perspective of Catholicism.

He’d met Emile whilst studying abroad, the two had clicked very well despite Remy’s rather clumsy, heavily accented English of which, only really became clumsy because the cutest, most wonderful ray of sunshine of a boy, with bright blue hair started to talk to him about saving the environment. He forgot how to speak for a few seconds, his brain hitting panic mode with those bright blue eyes staring at him through rose tinted glasses. When he finally spoke his words came out in the wrong order.

Emile taught him a lot about gender and sexuality that he did not know, in multiple ways, as well as the idea that his religious identity didn’t have to clash with his sexual orientation and gender. In turn, Remy taught Emile self-defense and also the main ways to stun and/or knock out someone.

Emile likes flowers, he believes the world is a God in its own right. Remy believes God is a person but at this point, he’s leaning to the idea that God has to be a woman because men don’t create things as beautiful as Emile. The elder, full of roses and pastel cardigans, was a beautiful breath of fresh air in a toxic world. And the younger, whose outfits consisted of leather and ripped skinny jeans, clashes brilliantly next to him.

The definition of opposites attract.

And now Remy can’t stop fidgeting on the plane, toying with the short black stands of his hair and fidgeting under the warmth of his binder. He’d tried writing a text, anything, but nothing felt right. Somehow he feels just a little bit braver with a glass of JD down his throat and Emile holding his hand.

His parents greet him at the airport. His father is ex-navy, chubby and jovial, with his hair thinning and skin dark, his mother a brown-haired woman with a kind face and much lighter skin. They greet their son with hugs and warmth, and Remy has to try not to think about the fact that this love may wear off soon and that it comes with terms and conditions that he’s never read. Suddenly, life is a Twitter account and he’s never once checked the Terms of Service.

“You’re shaking,” Emile whispers as they trail behind Remy’s parents “Breathe,” They at least, already love this flowery man with vines and roses tattooed up his arms and now bright purple curls. Meeting Emile is usually a test to people’s conservatism, he’s hardly a picture of societal masculinity.

No, Emile is far too kind to conform to society.

Remy helps his dad with the cases and holds the door open to the car for Emile because they’re used to this rhythm in their relationship. Emile would do anything to make the other man’s life easier but he’d have to beat Remy to it first.

Sat around the dinner table, they say grace the way they do every time they sit down for dinner. Remy has to admit it’s been so long since he’d prayed but he’s thankful now he has the chance because if there’s ever a time to beg God for help it’s now. Eating, his father asks him through his deadname how University is going, if his studies are progressing. “Top marks all around,” He replies with a smile that chews on a name he’s not heard in a couple of years. “Doing great,”

“And how’s your mental health doing, sweetheart, you told us you were seeing a doctor over there?” Remy smiles and nods.

“Good, I started medication for it,” His mother smiles, pleased with his answer.

“Always happy to hear my baby is happy,” She beams as she digs into a meal she prepared. Traditional family roles, but not really forced, his dad tried very hard to cook and he could...basic meals. His mother had been raised by a chef and her cooking was one he’d pay millions to eat. She’d always said the fastest way to a man’s heart is through their stomach and as far as his dad was concerned, she was not wrong. Remy’s dad loved food, he loved trying to make it too. Remy inherited his father’s love for food and also his mother’s ability to cook it so it’s a win-win situation.

His dad had taught him how to fight instead, taught him how to stay active, to fend for himself. People always used to tell his dad that his weight would get in his way, but he’s one of the healthiest men Remy knows. He’s active, loves to walk, he’d never been skinny and could still kick ass. Remy adores his dad. And his mum.

He and Emile help his mum do the dishes whilst his dad clean up the kitchen tops and table. When they sit down to watch TV, Remy finally decides he can’t handle a moment longer of their love if it’s only on one condition.

“Ma, Pops, there’s something I need to tell you,”

There’s a moment of silence as he stands up and Emile gives him a small smile but for the first time in his life...Remy feels so small, so powerless, so afraid. Tears are already in his eyes as the TV is muted and all eyes are on him, he can see the understanding on his mother’s face before he’s even opened his mouth. “I’ve been trying to...to figure out...” He stammers, stumbles, every word he’s ever known both in his native tongue and English vanish completely. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you, I wanted to tell you before I went to university, I wanted to tell you via text or email and now I just can’t handle not telling you,”

Tears track his cheeks and he chokes on his words. Even as a child he’d never been much of a crier, he very rarely cried at all but then again his parents had always loved him so much and he’d always been quite spoiled despite the little money they had. “I’m not a girl,” He can’t breathe. “I’m a boy,” He really can’t breathe, he feels like he’s choking, the weight of the cross around his neck is digging into his skin.

“Oh honey,” His mum smiles, standing up to wrap his arms around him “I’ve had a feeling this day would come,” He bursts into tears against her, feeling like a child all over again as he gasps for breath “When you were little you used to say to me ‘mama I don’t want to be a girl,’ and for a while I thought it was simply because it’s a man’s world and you understood that too much,” He shakes a little, his legs feeling weak. “But as you got older I understood a little more, I even did research because there isn’t much here to help me understand,” Remy sniffles and wipes his eyes, exhaling shakily. “But no matter who you are, or what you are, you are always my child, and I will always love you, I love you more each and every time I learn how you’ve grown,”

Remy’s dad stands up, his face with a firm look as he holds out an arm for his son. “God makes no mistakes, son,” He says gently “You are who you are because of how he made you, and that is how he wanted you to be,” Remy nods against the other man’s chest “And you will be a better man than I could have been, back in my day they used to make more fun of people like you, it always felt wrong but I would never try to defend, as I got older I realized I should defend, and you, you are braver than I could have ever been because you embrace who you are despite what people may tell you,”

Emile smiles at the family, legs crossed as he leans his elbows on his knees and chin rested against the palm of his hands. “And you, son,” Remy’s father turns to him as he looks up at older man “Thank you for taking good care of my kid, we worry sometimes with,” He takes a moment to correct his own mind “Him, being so far away, but now I know for certain he’s in good hands, and you are always welcome to our table, I don’t care what your sexuality is, or where you come from, or who you worship, unless you want to talk about that is, I’d love to get to know my son’s boyfriend more, of course, it’s only proper, but you are always welcome here,”

Emile nods “Thank you, sir,”

“I go by Remy now,” Remy says quietly “It’s what people call me,”

“Remy, I like it, very Latin,” His mother beams that motherly smile, her eyes full of tears and pride and warmth. “You know I’m a fan of good French names, you stuck to the theme,” Remy laughs and nods, wiping his eyes.

And Emile, Emile who had been there through the confusion and fear and worries. Who had sat through every written and deleted text for the past two years, he couldn’t have been prouder at that moment. With his boyfriend wiping his eyes and nose and blinking his big brown eyes full of care over at the other man, a quiet thank you on his lips. Remy would always be the person he looked up to the most, not fearless but full of fear and he lets it drive him through every moment of his life. Not without Anxiety, to brimming with it, and despite that he was still brave in the face of it.

Remy really would forever be his guiding light, the precedence set for his own bravery. And, the love of his life.

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#cartoon therapy #ts shorts #remile

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robinreyrshaw · 7 years

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Dear Christians, It’s Not the Church’s Job to Make Us Feel Comfortable

I received this message from a self-described pastor a few days ago:

Hi Matt, I’m a pastor and I have to say I’ve read your work for a while and I find it very troubling. There is no tolerance, inclusiveness, or love in your writings. It’s hateful towards the LGBTQ community and others who don’t share your views about gay rights, reproductive rights or many other issues. Matt churches should be focusing on how to welcome people in, whether they happen to be gay, trans, feminist or any other group you denigrate. “Christians” like you and all the rest on the far right have pushed these people away for so long. Matt no matter what you or your ilk say in your backwardness and bigotry, Christians in a committed same-sex relationship and others in the LGBTQ community are following God’s design for their lives. That’s the message the church needs to spread. God is love. Love is love! Your message of hatred and exclusion should be left in the dark ages where it belongs. You should be ashamed. I will pray for you.

Hi, pastor. Three things:

One: These aren’t “my views” about gay rights and “reproductive rights,” as you refer to them. I am merely agreeing with the One who has already made His position on these subjects known.

Two: It’s not the church’s job to make us comfortable, pastor. Its job is to help to make us holy.

Yes, it should welcome all. In fact it should not only welcome but actively seek those who are lost. It should venture into the world, find the wandering sheep, and guide them back into the fold. But what it cannot do, pastor, is welcome our sin.

It should welcome the penitent thief, as Christ did, but it should not and cannot welcome his thievery. Remember, only one of the thieves crucified next to Christ was invited into paradise. The one who renounced his crimes was promised Heaven. The other, who clung to his wickedness even up until the moment of death, was not offered an invitation. I wonder, if you were there on Calvary that day, would you have lectured Christ for not being sufficiently inclusive?

You say we should welcome homosexuals and “transgenders” and people who are pro-abortion and anyone else who commits one of our culture’s trendy sins, but what you really seem to mean is that we should welcome the acts of fornication, sodomy, self-mutilation, child murder, etc. These acts are “God’s design for their lives,” you say. And I’m afraid it is on this point that you stumble headfirst into heresy.

It’s true that the church should be like the father in Christ’s parable, running to greet the son who’d squandered his inheritance on booze and prostitutes, eager to embrace and forgive him. But note how the father didn’t go out, find his son at the brothel, and say, “Son, why don’t you come and fornicate and get drunk at home? No need to change your lifestyle at all. Just come home and do whatever you want. Don’t let me cramp your style, son. Here, need some more money?”

That’s because the rebellious young man had to abandon his sin, seek forgiveness, and surrender to the will of his father. Notice that when he came home he said, “I have sinned against you and against heaven. I am not worthy to be called your son.” Now notice that he did not say, “I’ve had a lot of debauched, drunken sex and I’m proud of it. In fact, I plan to get back at it tomorrow. I’m not sorry, I won’t change, and you just need to shut up and accept it, pops. By the way, I have some hookers coming over later. Please show them to my room. Thanks.”

The post Dear Christians, It’s Not the Church’s Job to Make Us Feel Comfortable appeared first on The Matt Walsh Blog.

from Propaganda Guard http://propagandaguard.blogspot.com/2017/01/dear-christians-its-not-churchs-job-to.html from Blogger http://robinreyrshaw.blogspot.com/2017/01/dear-christians-its-not-churchs-job-to.html

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