A day on the life of Christine, the hemorrhoisa

Chris, Christine, the hemorrhoisa, dont know what to do anymore. The bleeding doesnt stop, although she have been taking the infusion threee times at day like the doctor said. Her body, her genitals, are different from the rest, they are not built like she would like, they are not like they are supposed to be. The problem is not the blood, just some drops at day, but what it means for her and everybody around her. On one hand she is steril so no man have any desire to marry her, and on the other hand, she is different, she is keep always impure, and women also reject her fearing that whatever happens to her could be somewhat contagious. The women who know her problem dont see or treat her like are equal, because she doesnt have a period like them, and Chris suffer for that. She is treated a lot better by the women who doesnt know anything, who treat like her like one more of them, but at what cost? The cost of not being able to tell them what it happens to her, the cost of living in a closet, of deceive them, of not being able to really open to them.

This is her current situation with Mary. Mary is her friend, she came to the town a few months ago, just a newly married couple. They didnt know anybody and Christine took the chance to make friends with her. Mary is very kind and treat her very good, like a friend, like an equal, because she doesnt know that Christine is the hemorrhoisa, but she will certainly find out soon. Today they have gone together to buy bread and the shopkeeper, who knows about it, on what bad hour Chris told her about it, said to Mary she wouldnt spend too many time with me, although she didnt give any explanation. I think Mary is suspecting something and to tell the truth I feel like a very bad friend for not being able to tell her, for having to keep it to myself.

And these days we hear to talk a lot about a man, called Jesus, who is healing everybody who is near of him, deaf, blind, disabled, leprosy, and I think maybe he could also heal me, to fix my genitals, but when I told my plans to my mother she mocked me. -Dont ever think about it, Christine. This man have come to heal important things, blind and disabled, persons who are dying, sick kids. Yours is nothing like that, yours is something small, tiny and dirty and it doesnt deserve his attention, so keep it off your mind.

And her father was even worse -You were born this way, Chris, steryl and different. This is the plan of God for you. Dont ever think about bothering this man with something God imposed on you, if you are impure is because God want you to be this way.

They wont let her to be close to Jesus, they wouldnt ask him to come to heal their daughter. They were too ashamed of having a daughter like that, hemorrhoisa, to announce it publicly asking for help. No, better to keep their dirty laundry, that their daughter is hemorrhoisa, at home. And they didnt believe this man called Jesus could really help them. Maybe he was specialist on blind and disabled, but they had never heard that he had healed something even close to what Christine had.

And one afternoon Christine heard that this man called Jesus was going to be in the town to heal the daughter of Jairo, the priest of the sinagoge, who unafraid of what people would think of him, had gone to ask for his help. His daughter, a little kid, was dying and he was not doubt on asking help on that man that he had severily critized many times on the sinagoge. And Jesus has not hesitated either and hastened to see the little girl, to save her. For the hemorrhoisa this is a effort worthy of Jesus, worthy of receiving all his healing power, and she rejoiced in that. Christine knew the little girl and her father, Jairo, they were almost neighbours, because the sinagoge was just a couple buildings beyond Christine´s house, which was from a good family, and that added more pain to her parents because of her unworthiness.

Chris knew that Jesus would need to pass for her very street, in front of her house, that he would be there and she couldnt let spare this chance. She was not worthy to stop him or asking anything. He was God, she was completely sure of that, and how to bother God, precisely when He is going to save a little kid who is dying? My problem is nothing next to hers but I need to be healed so much... But how do I tell him my problem, how to bother him, when there are so many bigger and more urgents problems than mine? And to complicate matters further, the people who knows my problem wouldnt let me aproach him, they will say Im impure, that God made me this way and that I shouldnt bother him with my problems of women impurity and genitals that are not as intended, that this is something small and unimportant.

But even then, if God passes in front of my door, how can I not approach Him, how can I not look for Him, how to ignore He is just passing in front of me? I know Im really insignificant, not worthy of his time and effort, specially when he is in a hurry to save a little girl, so I would just try to approach him from behind and touch him, just touch him even just a single fringle of his garment and then whatever God wants would happen. He can do anything, even heal a poor unworthy like me, of that I'm sure. And Im talking about touching, but on the deepest of my soul Im thinking on grabbing, on holding, on hugging God like who is clinging to her last resort, fully knowing that the rest of the humanity have not answer nor hope for me, that they have condemned me already, they have judged me unworthy and only He can save me. Because if He dont do it this is the only life I can live, of a incomplete woman, impure and steryl.

So on an oversight of my parents, I leave the house and sneak into the crowd. This man called Jesus does not seems to have arrived yet, but I can see a group of people approaching. Who will be Jesus? I wonder as I wait in the crowd. But when they come closer I see him quite clearly. There are many people but they all swirl before him and you only need to see his gaze to understand he is not a normal man, that there is something very special about him. He dont see me, He dont see me, it is better this way, I have to give a couple of pushes to get to the front but I dont care because Im very near of Him, I just want to touch Him a bit, for an instant, that He realise that Im at his side, looking Him, that Im Christine, the hemorrhoisa, that I need Him, that I need Him more than anybody although that girl is dying, that I know Im unworthy, that Im insignificant, that I only need to touch Him and God will heal me, that I dont want Him to waste a moment with me, that I know God have plenty of very important things to do, like saving that girl and I dont want to be a burden because I know her and she is very young and does not deserve to die. And then all of a sudden, I do it, I reach out and touch Him.

And...and...something happen, I dont know what but something happen. Something have happened although I wouldnt know how to explain what. And... and... He have also noticed it, He have stopped and is looking around. Am I healed? I dont really know, but I feel different, something have changed inside me. Jesus is talking, he is asking who have touched him and I panic. I shouldnt have come, I should have stayed at home as my parents said. I dont want him to stop, I dont want him to waste his time with me, the girl, the girl is who is important, dont stop for me, please, Im unworthy of your time, you already did it, I think you already healed me, something happened my Lord, you dont need to spend more time with me. But Jesus keep asking who touched him and I fear for the girl's life, I cant keep hiding anymore, I cant delay him any longer, it is better to get out and receive my punishment for getting closer, for touch Him, for doing what I should not, for thinking I was also worthy, that I also deserved to be healed and saved. For bother God with problems of women and incorrect genitals. For doing the exact opposite of what everybody told me, for refusing to accept this life and body that God had given me.

So I came out of the crowd and knelt before Him asking forgiveness for touching him. I didnt dare to look at his face. Why? Why I did it? Im a fool. But then it was He who touched me, touching my hand making the gesture to get me up and I looked up and saw Him and He was smiling at me, smiling at me, smiling at me. I didnt undertand a thing. He was not upset? I have delayed him, I have bothered him, I  have approached him from behind against everyone suggestion and He was not upset? It didnt make any sense. And He was smiling at me? It couldnt be possible. And then He said "Daughter, your faith has saved you" Daughter. Daughter. As any other woman, like any of them, like all of them, and then I felt it, I felt how I was not longer different from the rest, that my body was fine, that my body was never wrong, that it was just different from the rest and I felt very unworthy for that, but no any longer. The Lord has healed me and has done much more than that, He has touched me and lift me up, He has looked at me and smiled at me, and He has called me His daughter. Things I had never ever dared to dream and yet now... Now I was truly healed. Now I really feel like His daughter, I feel worthy, I feel I am like everyone, I feel my body is valid and good and that God love me and smile at me.

I dont know how long that instant was, because for me it lasted like a full year, a decade, I could live my whole life on that instant. But the little girl also needed His help, the little girl... If Jesus can do to others the same He have done with me, how to take Him all by myself? I couldnt, there was many people in need around the world and I was already healed, his work with me was already done. So with my greatest gratitude I asked Him to go to save that girl, that I was already healed. And Jesus went away without stop smiling at me. And I standed there, like a fool, on the middle of the way, while him and the crowd went away towards the sinagogue. And it was true that she was healed, but there was a lot of more than that. Jesus had touched and transformed her heart and Christine was no longer Christine the hemorrhoisa, but just Christine, or maybe even Christine, of the Lord, but that is another story, a story only Christine can decide.

This story is based on the events which are told on the gospels Mark 5:21-43, Luke 8:40-56 and Mathew 9:18-26, known popularly like the healing of the hemorrhoisa. I know that lgbt people is usually bound to show some rejection to religion because we often feel attacked by it, but the truth is that Jesus is here for everyone, and heal and save everybody, without making any distictions, like Christine. As a trans woman myself this is a story that have always fascinated me, trapped me and also helped me a lot and it is my wish, dear reader that this little story help you as it helped me and that the blessing and peace of our Lord Jesus be always with you all.