I’ve been walking around in clothes that no longer fit me for almost two months. I knew I had lost a lot of weight, I knew I had dropped a couple of pants sizes, and I knew that my shirt size has changed. Even my boxer briefs no longer fit me.

I went shopping the other day and bought a new pair of pants and a new shirt. I was shocked. I don’t ever try anything on in the store, so I buy it, bring it home, and try it on eventually. I tried the shirt on first. I bought an XL and it was perfect. Slightly baggy, not tight at all. You know how long it’s been since I’ve been able to fit into an XL like that? The shirt didn’t really surprise me though. I’ve been wearing some XL shirts around and while they were a bit tight, they still fit. The pants however were a shock. I bought a 40 waist size, because I used to wear a 44 or 42. I tried them on yesterday and the 40’s are still too big. I took them back, got a 38 this time, tried them on at home, and they are still a bit big, but if I were to get anything smaller, it would be a bit tight. I’m wearing a 38 waist size!

I really shouldn’t be happy about losing so much weight, because it isn’t healthy and certainly not good for me, but I’m pretty happy that I’ve lost enough weight to change pant sizes.

I’m doing really well though. I’m more active than before. I do a lot of yard work, I’m going for short bike rides, I’m starting to go for walks. If I push too hard than I have to rest for about two days, but I’m slowly building up my stamina. On my first bike ride, I couldn’t ride longer than 5 minutes before my heart felt like exploding. Now I’m able to bike about two miles before I feel like that. I’m hoping that by the end of the month, I will be able to ride my bike around the bike trail once. It’s five miles long.

Aside from all of that, I’m generally doing well. Last Sunday, for the first time in I don’t know how long, I went to Mass. I grew up in the Catholic Church, was quite active in it during high school, and then when I realized that I couldn’t hide who I am anymore, I stopped going to Church. I never stopped believing in God, no matter how many times my sisters and my dad try to twist my words around to mean such.

The difference between my belief in God in high school and my belief in God now, is that I don’t believe in religion. I have a great deal of Faith, but I don’t consider myself Catholic, Christian, or any organized religion. My beliefs come from many different places, beliefs, religions, and faiths. I don’t believe that a human Pope is infallible. I don’t believe that it’s wrong to be who you are, whether you are Gay, Lesbian, straight, or Transgender. I don’t believe that acts of love shared between two people of the same sex are a sin. Mostly though, I look at my parents. My mom isn’t Catholic and she doesn’t go to Church, either at a Catholic one or Apostolic (which she is.) My Dad goes when he feels like he has to go.

I can’t participate in a religion where I don’t agree with many of their most important doctrines. I can’t participate in a religion that I really have no ties to. I don’t need religion to have a deep faith in God. Sunday I went to humor my dad. He says the biggest problem in my life is that a) I don’t believe in God, b) that I don’t go to Church, and c) that I don’t go to Confession. No matter how many times I try to tell him that I believe in God, it doesn’t sink in. I don’t go to Church because I don’t believe in organized religion. And I don’t need to tell someone my sins when I can tell God directly. And wait, when was the last time he went to Confession? When he was 16 and made his Confirmation. I asked him. So, a) if you’re going to tell me to go to Confession, don’t be a hypocrite about it, b) if you’re going to tell me that I need to go to Church, don’t be a hypocrite about it. Hypocrites aren’t the reason I don’t believe in organized religion, although that’s what initially started my doubt in it.

Oh, and another piece of advice from him: I should pray. I’m sorry I don’t make it more obvious to people that I pray. I pray constantly. I talk to God more often than I talk to anyone else in my life. But I didn’t know that I should get into prayer position and flaunt it around in front of my dad to prove that I pray.

Yes, I’m a cynical person. Yes, I make mistakes (big ones). But I didn’t know that being cynical and making mistakes meant that I didn’t believe in God. Or maybe it’s because I’m Transgender that I don’t believe in God. My dad also blames the Internet for me being Trans. He thinks I’m feeble-minded and gullible and that whatever I read will influence me so deeply that I would say anything and believe anything. I’m not Trans because of something I read or saw or heard. I’m Trans because I was born this way.