by Audra Breer
I have battled with experiences of gender dysphoria for a long time. In the war for my soul, the evil spirit is constantly launching attacks on me and my identity as a woman and daughter of God. The constant, pervasive thought that I wasn’t supposed to be a girl nagged at me from a very young age. I would lie in bed at night and wish with all my heart that I would wake up a boy.
My parents can attest that I hated pink as a young girl. On the playground, I played dodgeball with the boys or pushed toy cars through the dirt on my hands and knees. When leaving the house in the morning or school in the afternoon I’d tuck my hair up in a baseball or stocking cap; on one such afternoon I was talking rather rambunctiously with a couple boys in the hallway when a teacher peaked her head out of the door and chastised us: “Settle down, boys.” My seven-year old heart leapt for joy in that moment. At home, I’d play one-on-one basketball in the driveway: me (Trey) versus my imaginary opponent (also me: Drew). When my friends and I played house at sleep-overs, I insisted upon being the dog, the brother, or the dad. Every time. Without fail. Starting in third grade, I spent innumerable hours sitting on the floor of the shower, scalding hot water pouring over me, crying in fear that my classmates, friends, and family would discover what a fraud and freak I was for feeling the things I did.
When I hit puberty around seventh grade, these feelings faded. The dysphoria didn’t completely go away, though, and there were occasions on which it would rear its ugly head and cause me distress. For a couple years, I was fine and happy with myself for the majority of the time. The few days that the dysphoric feelings would creep back in, though, were days of intense discomfort and anxiety. Moving into high school, these days grew in number. The summer before my junior year, I cut my hair short. I was told I was “committing social suicide,” but I had no fears or nerves when the scissors and shaving clippers came out. I wanted my hair—that constant reminder of my femininity that I so resented—to be gone… at least on the days when I didn’t want to be a girl.
"I wanted my hair—that constant reminder of my femininity that I so resented—to be gone… at least on the days when I didn’t want to be a girl."
It was in my junior year of high school that I began forming a relationship with the woman who would become one of the most influential figures in my life as I looked to—sometimes lamenting or questioning, but now rejoicing at—my identity as a daughter of God. This woman was a representation of authentic femininity and the person after whom I modeled myself. She was the brave and vibrant figure of feminine genius, maternal mastery, and womanly holiness that I so desperately needed. In her identity as a woman, I saw a distant likeness of myself staring back at me, a likeness that did not always feel the most natural or desirable, but an unmistakable likeness nonetheless. Unbeknownst to her, she challenged, coaxed, and encouraged me in my womanhood. When she entered my life at 16, I did not yet fully understand or comprehend my own experiences of gender dysphoria. There was a particular kind of unhappiness within me, but it was buried deep, not quite discernible. Dissatisfaction rose within me: disgust with myself, with my identity, with this soft femininity that I so longed to shuck off and replace with the sleek, powerful armor of masculinity. But there were some very powerful sparks and moments of inspiration, confirmation, and jubilation that occurred in my interactions with her over the next two years. She brought these sparks about simply by being herself. And as I continued to turn to her for counsel, comfort, and courage even after my life took me to a new location, my soul began to turn as well. Certain experiences, emotions, and sensations began to make sense.
When I arrived at SLU, I was longing to be made whole from profound wounds, to have the doubt of my worth shattered, to have the attractions I felt toward women validated, and to have my desire to be male understood. I was in a place of deep shame, isolation, and despair. Looking back upon my journey up to this point, the joy and love of Christ was scarily absent. But I have experienced immeasurable healing in the past two years, particularly through a man who became my spiritual father, confessor, and guide.
"I was in a place of deep shame, isolation, and despair. Looking back upon my journey up to this point, the joy and love of Christ was scarily absent."
He was a constant font of wisdom and a fatherly source of security and direction, tender yet firm, challenging yet encouraging, contemplative yet active. I have been hard-pressed to find a truer representation of authentic masculinity in my life, and have never felt safer in the presence of another person. It was through this man, a man who had proven himself able and willing time and time again to sacrifice himself for his flock, that the unrelenting love and pursuit of my Heavenly Father broke through more powerfully than ever before. In that love and relationship with my Abba, throughout this academic year especially, I have been affirmed in my identity as a woman and daughter of God. In times of difficulty when I did not know who I was, I looked to the Lord to tell me my identity, and He spoke it with the utmost fervor and clarity. He kept inviting me to more deeply discover and embrace this identity, both in subtle and large ways.
I veiled for the first time at Campion Society mass on February 11th. When I entered the chapel wearing my mantilla in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, I was overwhelmed by what I felt deep inside of me. The gradual turning of my soul that had begun in high school finally made one last adjustment, and something clicked more profoundly than it ever had before: I am a DAUGHTER of God, a holy woman whose femininity is to be revered, honored, and embraced. In that moment, my body and soul were flooded with the presence of the Divine. Peace. Joy. Relief. And the most overwhelming love. When mass ended and I left the chapel, I did not want to take off my mantilla. The Lord and His love for me was clearer in those forty-five minutes than possibly ever before in my life, and as such, my understanding of myself was clearer. I had covered myself in the presence of my Savior, and He had revealed Himself to me and pulled me close in a completely new way. Nothing about that experience was shallow, and no part of me was projecting my own preconceived hopes or thoughts onto what my mantilla would do for me. It was deeply personal and deeply True.
Satan continues to fight for my soul. The very same week that I first began veiling, the evil spirit made aggressive, flashy attempts to shake me. My gender dysphoria exploded back into my life, this time for whole weeks at a time. Distractions, temptations, doubts, and opportunities to reject my womanhood were cropping up left and right. But I leaned into spending time in the chapel, covered before the Lord. And He rewarded me with a peace and joy beyond my wildest dreams, giving me the strength and desire to persevere.
"Embracing stereotypical femininity without embracing the presence of the Triune God isn’t true womanhood."
My mantilla orients me toward right relationship with God. Womanhood is only womanhood in relation to God, as He gave me this identity; embracing stereotypical femininity without embracing the presence of the Triune God isn’t true womanhood. In the presence of Jesus, the fullness of my identity springs to life, and I love my womanhood. I feel alive and true and completely comfortable. My mantilla has brought me peace, joy, humility, and love in the midst of my despair and confusion. The Son of God prepares a dwelling place for me in His Father’s house. He does not come to destroy my life, but to save it. Not in some small, impersonal way, but radically and intimately. He comes to convert me and change my heart. What that looks like for me, as a woman and distinctly myself, is only in His knowledge. But I trust that His plan for this daughter of His is good beyond belief.
Audra's testimony was first posted on Instagram on May 3, 2019. Follow her at @audrabreer.
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