Confessions of a Recovering Patriarchist, Part One
Note: This is the first in a two-part series of guest blog posts by Jennifer Thomas / David Andersen, “Confessions of a Recovering Patriarchist.” In part one, she discusses her perspective as a trans woman on the LDS Church’s recent policy changes. In part two, she will examine how patriarchy has led the Church’s leaders and many of its male members to enact and support these policies.
Jennifer Thomas is an openly bi-gender individual in her late 60s who spent most of her adult life experiencing patriarchal privilege as a devoted Church leader. She is happily married for over 45 years to her amazing wife, Mary Ann.
I was born the 5th son of a very active, multigenerational LDS family. I checked all the boxes: served a mission, married in the temple, graduated from BYU, raised up a righteous posterity who all married in the temple, and served in many leadership positions including bishop, high councilor, and stake presidency member.
About two and a half years ago, with the loving support and acceptance of my wife and family, I started attending my LDS ward as a woman. My story of how I got to that point and what happened when I reached it is interesting in its own right, but is not my focus here.
I was feeling pretty good about how my persistent willingness to show up at Church as my authentic self, had, over time, resulted in my local ward warming up to me and learning to be ok with a transgender woman worshiping in their midst.
I harbored hopes that if enough of us trans folks did the hard work of providing proximity and familiarity to our local congregations, positive change might bubble its way up to the top of the organization. Sadly, most of those hopes evaporated on August 19, 2024 with the release of updates to the General Handbook pertaining to transgender members.
I have been living with membership restrictions that were imposed on me when I came out. My temple recommend was revoked. My priesthood was suspended. I was told that I was not eligible to serve in “certain callings” (though no specificity about this was ever provided). But, I was welcomed into Relief Society, was invited to offer prayers in sacrament meeting, and was free to participate in class discussions. It wasn’t ideal, but I was pretty ok with this, and figured I was taking one for Team Trans.
These most recent handbook changes, though, made it clear that the institutional Church considers people like me to be a threat to youth, dangerous to have in restrooms, unfit to teach or lead a class discussion, and no longer welcome in Relief Society. Further, because I transitioned socially, my membership record is to be “annotated” as is done with rapists, child molesters, polygamists, and those who steal from the Church. I’m thinking the odds are not very good that there will be any more invitations to offer prayers in sacrament meeting!
The ensuing days were dark and painful as I considered how these changes would impact me and those around me. I realized that amongst all these new restrictions, the one that bothered me most was being banned from Relief Society.
From early on, my Relief Society sisters had, for the most part, been warm and encouraging. I quickly grew to appreciate and love how honest and real the sisters were with one another. They were willing to speak of hard things and to be vulnerable. They knew how to show solidarity and support through knowing nods, tender smiles, a gentle touch or a prolonged hug. Many of the sisters seemed to instinctively understand the trepidation that I was feeling by inserting myself in their midst and went out of their way to reassure me and help me feel welcomed.
It was liberating and joyful for me to be able to interact in ways I had long felt inclined but could never acceptably do as a male. In Relief Society, I could offer a sincere compliment on a sister’s cute outfit or hairdo, slide over to sit with someone who had nobody close, and make connection while listening to a sister describe something especially happy or sad. And, of course, give (and receive) hugs. Trust me, it’s not like that in Elders Quorum! And now, with the recent policy changes, this opportunity for proximity, connection, and understanding must end for me.
All across my social media feeds there is so much angst and frustration being voiced about these policy changes. Some of the most common things I see are questions such as “Why are they doing this?” and “Don’t they know how much this is hurting people?” Some are insisting that “they” (presumably the Q15, or First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve) have been told about the harm, many times and from trusted sources, but they just don’t care. In my own view, the Brethren do care about the members, even the queer ones, and they think they understand, and they believe that they are doing what God wants them to do. But, I believe that because of patriarchy, their feelings, their understanding and even their inspiration are badly distorted and getting all jumbled up.
