Nobody's woman. The faith of Nadia, a Christian transgender woman

Reflections by Fabio Trimigno del Zacchaeus group, LGBT+ Christians from Puglia

Do you remember that woman of the Gospel who approaches Jesus as he went to the house of Giairo, head of the synagogue? That woman who follows Jesus in the crowd, do you remember it?

Yes, just her, that woman whose name knows but everyone knows that he had been suffering from bleeding for many years and had consulted many doctors unnecessarily. Do you remember it or not?

Yes, she, that woman who approaches Jesus behind, touches her cloak and heals instantly. I met that woman and is called Nadia.

Nadia is a transgender woman who lives in the Gargano, the land kissed by the sun and dirty with blood, the noisy land for the patronal feasts and silent for the mourning of the mafia, the land of all and nobody, the place where the day before Everyone knows everyone and the next day no one knows anything about anyone.

Il Gargano: a land inhabited by fragile women like leaves but hard like rocks. And Nadia is one of these women. Yes, it is she, that of the Gospel: the hemorrhoissa.

After his transition, Nadia, after having lived in Bologna for many years and after closing a love story with a violent man, returns to Puglia, in the Gargano, from his family in which he is welcomed. Looking for a job and finds work, recruits some relationships with old friends, knows new ones and finally finds love: Giuseppe a young man of good family.

The best place, the Gargano, where everyone knows Nadia and Giuseppe the day before, but nobody seems to know anything more the next day. The best place for Nadia to continue to bleed like the hemorrhism of the Gospel. Nadia did not lose blood, but more: every day she lost a piece of herself, she lost her dignity.

Doctors and surgeons are not enough, neither psychologists nor hormones treatments to find itself.

And just like the bleeding that had been consulted unnecessarily doctors for many years, Nadia consulted her mirror as the Queen of Snow White. Only his tattoos were able to talk to her and remember her story, because when you get lost and you don't know who you are anymore you only have a way to remember it: draw it on the body forever.

Nadia believed he was the woman of Giuseppe, but he discovers one day that he was no one's woman. The hemorrhisma runs between the crowd, Nadia does not run among the crowd because there are no people when it is brought to an abandoned cemetery and beaten to blood.

Hatred feeds on fear, and when you don't accept your love for a transgender woman you feed you more and more than that fear of finding out who you really are, and the only way to free it is to destroy the object of your desire for love . Our hemorrhisma was in the midst of trees and dry walls, its crowd was nothing in the middle of slaps, kicks and punches, until you lose a tooth.

And after three hours of beatings and violence is brought to the precipice of a mountain and there Nadia must choose whether to die still one piece at a time or die once and forever.

He does not have the mirror of the Queen of Snow White to ask for a consultation; He cannot even see his tattoos to remember who he is because they are smeared with land and blood; He does not have his cell phone to ask for help because he has been subtracted to her, and even if he shouted there is only the sky the closer thing to a mountain, but that does not answer you.

A cellophane well arranged in the car and a knife aimed at the neck, perhaps to slaughter a woman like a pig and leave her to the wild boar in the first darkness that would have dropped.

But Nadia is a Gargano woman, fragile like a leaf but lasts like a rock. And to kill a hard, strong and courageous woman it takes even greater courage, and so that Giuseppe cannot stab her and down the cliff.

When I think of this scene I think of the cloak of Jesus touched by the EMorroissa.

Nadia has a black eye, a missing tooth, the broken leg and a breast prosthesis stuck in the armpit, but does not yield. He climbs up with stones and rosemary bushes, branches and figs of India, touches with his blood that cloak of Jesus, clings with all his strength to the lateral back of that mountain.

He arrives at the top and the legs give way because he is exhausted, but at least he managed to stand, was even for a moment, with his dignity as a transgender woman.

Yesterday I saw Nadia again nine days after the incident, she was alone on the rocks and looked at the sea. I called him and she turning my smile.

When you meet death for a moment, only one thing remains between the crowd of your thoughts and fears: faith.

Nadia is a Christian and Catholic transgender woman, she is the hemorrhisma, that woman of the Gospel. Nadia is that woman for whom faith has saved her.

In Nadia with affection, Fabio