The Start of Becoming Me

The first Sunday at church was more than just a new experience, it was the start of something bigger. I had just moved in with my grandmother, leaving behind a past filled with bullying and confusion. At 12, I had been struggling with a lot of things, including the fact that my body didn’t quite align with society’s expectations. It wasn’t just the move to my grandmother’s house that was new; it was everything that followed. Suddenly, I was surrounded by a community that didn’t question me, but accepted me as I was.

My grandmother’s love, along with the unwavering support from the women at the church, played a huge part in helping me become comfortable with who I was. I went from feeling terrible about myself to feeling loved and seen, not for my struggles, but for the person I was becoming.

I remember how, as I sat in that church, the discomfort of my body started to fade, replaced by something stronger: confidence. I wasn’t just figuring out my body; I was figuring out who I was as a girl. The love and kindness I received from my grandmother, my mom’s church sisters, and even some of the guys at church helped me find that confidence.

Through it all, I discovered my relationship with God. I didn’t feel disingenuous at church; I felt good. Everything that happened—the bullying, the new life with my grandmother, the church—led me to trust in a higher plan for me. And over time, I found peace in that trust.

The shift wasn’t instant. But that first Sunday, that first feeling of being accepted and loved, was the beginning of a long journey toward becoming the confident, strong woman I am today. And for that, I’ll always be grateful to my grandmother and the church community that supported me along the way.