From Exclusion to Communion: Life, Faith, and Siblinghood for Trans Folks in Catholic Parish

Today’s post is from guest contributor Elisa Belotti who is a freelance journalist based in Italy. She covers human rights and marginalized communities, with a particular focus on the impact of religion on society.

In a previous Bondings 2.0  interview post, Father Andrea Conocchia, an Italian  pastor,shared how his parish, Blessed Immaculate Virgin parish, near Rome became a place of welcome for a group of transgender women. In today’s post, I interview one of those women, Marcella, who talks about her  journey of exclusion, rediscovering faith, and the quiet revolution of feeling at home in the Church.

Marcella with a trans friend and Don Andrea

How did your journey start?.

Everything started during the pandemic, when we were in lockdown. The majority of the trans women here are sex workers and, when Covid-19 hit, we lost all our clients. We didn’t have a way to earn money, nor to eat.

One of us went to Don Andrea Conocchia for help and, when he helped her, she spread the news, one by one, because we were all in the same situation. So, we came to the parish.

It was a very important mind shift for us because we had always felt excluded, and were excluded from the Church. The fact that this priest helped us was significant. For me, it was a way to find my faith again.

There has always been hatred against us. But this new experience made us feel like human beings. It made us feel that the Church can love us too. Jesus always gave love without paying attention to how a person looked or their characteristics. He looked at their soul and nothing else.

Then more support came, along with the meeting with Pope Francis. Never in my life did I think I would meet a pope.

You were born in Uruguay. What was it like to realize you were a trans woman? And what was your relationship with faith there?

Since I was a child, I knew I was a girl. I liked the toys considered for girls, even if I knew it was something I wasn’t supposed to play with. But for me, it felt natural. When my mother went to work, I played with her clothes. It just felt normal for me.

Then, growing up, I realized that people stared, that the neighbors talked.

I took Communion at the age of 9. When I was 11, I told the priest that I was attracted to a classmate of mine – a boy – and he told me it was a sin. From that moment on, I walked away from the Church. I had my faith, but I prayed at home. I didn’t go to church or Sunday service anymore.

When I came to Italy, Covid-19 broke out, and it was a tragedy. So many people died. But in some way, it also brought us together. If it hadn’t been for that, maybe the other trans women and I wouldn’t have come back to church.

We had the chance to return, receive blessings, go to Mass, live our faith again in a community. We were able to stay together, listen to each other without worries, sit at the table and be served, eat with other people – often others who are also excluded and marginalized such as the homeless. This experience is a richness we never thought we could experience.

What is life like in the parish today?

Now I feel at home. Every time I go to Sunday service at church, I see the same people, so we greet each other, we know each other.

People used to walk away. They were afraid. Sometimes it still happens, if we don’t know each other very well. But when you really meet someone, you realize that we are all the same. It’s a rediscovery of our humanity and our personalities. A mutual rediscovery.

In the parish, we are like everyone else. We take part in the community’s activities. We ask for prayer services, for example, for our loved ones who have died or in honor of  the saints of the countries where we were born.

These are real steps toward living a true experience of an open and inclusive Church. Here, we truly experience community and siblinghood.

On a spiritual level, what have you experienced during these five years?

I carry with me the words that Pope Francis told me the first time we met: “We are all children of God, no matter what other people say, even if they judge. We are all normal, all God’s children.”

These words stayed with me in my mind and soul. The Pope had the ability to help us rediscover the feeling of being children. I felt that God is a parent who hugs you. He makes you feel like a loved daughter or son or child, just the way you are and because you are the way you are.

These are words and actions you can’t forget. His closeness was real. Pope Francis was able to care for us and accompany us. For me, he was a benefactor, a protector of the poor, a living testimony of the Gospel.

What message would you like to send to trans people who feel and are excluded and alone?

I would repeat the words that Pope Francis told me when we met: “Do not lose faith. Keep on believing in God, because He always loves us just the way we are.”

I would say: I hope you can find a priest who understands you, listens to you and embraces you. I hope you can find a united Church that truly welcomes you.

Here, we are happy. In our neighborhood, we are a group of more than 40 trans women and over these years we’ve come together. We forget our problems and we open up to one another. We laugh, we cry and we support each other.

It’s really beautiful. That’s what Church really is.

—Elisa Belotti, New Ways Ministry, July 26, 2025