Episode 57: A Universal Faith: Including our trans loved ones, with Mell Fraze Part 1

Meagan:
Welcome, everybody, to Beyond the Shadow of Doubt. I’m your host, Meagan Skidmore.

Today, I’m honored to share the perspective of a parent whose child identifies as transgender and non-binary. This is a space that’s often misunderstood, and I’ve found that the best way to learn is to listen—to let people share their own stories rather than trying to fill in the blanks ourselves.

So today, I’m joined by Mel Frase, who lives in California. She’s a mom of many, and one of her children identifies as transgender and non-binary. Mel, thank you for being here. I’d love for you to introduce yourself and share a little about your family, background, and anything about your faith journey or upbringing that you’d like listeners to know.

Mel:
Thank you, Meagan. I’m a born-and-raised Californian—my family’s been here for generations. I grew up in a mixed-faith household. My mom was, and still is, a very active Scientologist. My dad, on the other hand, was born and raised Christian, explored various denominations, and ultimately identified as a Universalist.

My dad’s perspective was, “Whatever faith helps you connect to truth is the right one for you.” It took me until my mid-teens to really appreciate that approach, especially after being raised with my mom’s very structured Scientology beliefs.

As an adult, I settled firmly into a Universalist mindset. Later, I met my husband, who was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He never pressured me to join, but asked if I’d be open to listening. The members I’d met were nuanced and compassionate, so I thought maybe this was a faith community where I could belong.

I eventually joined the church, became active, and was endowed in the temple for several years. But as my eldest child came out—first as asexual, and later as transgender and non-binary—I realized that what the church taught in principle didn’t always match its actions. For the sake of my child’s mental and emotional well-being, both my husband and I chose to step away.

Meagan:
Thank you for sharing that, Mel. Your openness really highlights why I created this podcast—to normalize asking questions and talking about doubt in our spiritual journeys.

You’ve touched on how your beliefs evolved and how they eventually diverged from what you were experiencing. Could you take us a bit deeper into that pivot point—when you started realizing your beliefs and reality were no longer aligned?

Mel:
Sure. In many ways, my story is a bit different from most. I came into the LDS faith already holding a Universalist worldview—I saw common threads among spiritual practices worldwide and valued the diversity of belief.

When I joined the church, I told people it felt like I was just learning a new vocabulary. My core beliefs didn’t change—I simply learned how to express them in language that made sense to members.

I believed in divine feminine energy, so the doctrine of a Heavenly Mother resonated with me. I viewed Jesus Christ similarly to how I view the Buddha—someone who teaches how to connect with the divinity within ourselves, others, and the universe around us.

For a while, that worked. But ultimately, the church’s policies—and I use that word intentionally, not doctrines—left no space for those who don’t fit neatly into a cisgender, heterosexual binary.

In a faith that teaches continuing revelation and personal inspiration, it was heartbreaking to watch people bear testimony of their truth—truths they’d prayed and studied over—and be told, “No, that’s wrong.”

That was the turning point for me. I couldn’t reconcile a church that preaches personal revelation but denies it when it doesn’t fit the expected mold.

Meagan:
That’s powerful. And thank you for sharing that so candidly. I know how deeply this can affect families, especially parents who want to protect their kids while navigating faith spaces that don’t always feel safe or accepting.

You mentioned stepping away—can you share what that was like for you and your family as you were still part of your ward community?

Mel:
It was very difficult. I’d been an outspoken ally for years, and many ward members quietly thanked me for saying things they wished they could say. Some had LGBTQ+ relatives but were afraid to speak up.

When my own child began questioning, we homeschooled, and that gave us time to have long, open conversations. My child said, “Mom, I’m not like the kids at church. I don’t get it.”

By then, I’d already done a lot of inner work through moderating a large, inclusive parenting group online—about 15,000 members at our peak. We made a deliberate choice to center marginalized voices, including trans parents and their experiences. That experience shaped me.

So when my child started exploring identity, we approached it with curiosity. We’d talk about labels—what they meant, how they felt—and my role was simply to ask, “Does this feel true for you?”

It was a two-to-three-year process of reflection and conversation. The first label my child identified with was asexual. They said, “I just don’t feel attraction the way other people describe.”

That made sense to me, especially considering how much the church focuses on marriage and family. When kids hear that at 12 and feel nothing that resonates, it can be isolating. Unfortunately, the response they got from some leaders was, “Don’t worry—you’ll feel differently when you’re older.” That was deeply unhelpful and invalidating.

Meagan:
Yes—thank you for naming that. We live in a heteronormative world, and most people don’t even realize it until life shows them otherwise. And you’re right—when society is so sexualized, the concept of not being attracted to anyone at all is often dismissed or misunderstood.

Mel:
Exactly. And people say, “They’re 12, they’re too young to know.” But we never question a 12-year-old who says they have a crush on someone of the opposite sex. No one says, “You’re too young to know you’re straight.”

So why would we assume kids are too young to know they aren’t straight?

Meagan:
Right. And for listeners who may not know, cisgender simply means someone who identifies with the gender they were assigned at birth.

Mel:
Yes. And that’s the key—we accept “I just know” from cisgender, heterosexual kids, but not from others.

I remember as a teen being frustrated when adults dismissed my feelings. As a parent, I remind myself that my children’s lived experiences are real and valid, even if I don’t fully understand them in the moment.

Meagan:
That’s so beautifully said. I remember having crushes in kindergarten! Nobody ever questioned that—it was just “normal.” So I appreciate you highlighting how different the experience can be for kids who don’t fit the norm.

Mel:
My child actually tried to “fit in.” When they were around eight, they noticed friends talking about crushes, so they tried to identify one too—almost like an experiment. But it was analytical, not emotional. They realized later that it wasn’t what others described as attraction.

And when you’re asexual, it changes how you relate to gender as well. Many people understand gender in relation to attraction, so when that’s absent, gender feels different too.

Meagan:
That’s such an insightful point. You mentioned earlier that you never raised your kids with a strict gender binary. Can you tell us more about that?

Mel:
Yes—bodily autonomy has always been a core value in our home. Nobody gets to decide what you do with your body except you.

Part of that comes from my own experiences. As a teen, I shaved my head. As an adult, I’ve had buzz cuts, long hair, and everything in between. I’ve worn men’s jeans for the pockets and hyper-feminine dresses just because I felt like it. My gender isn’t about any of that—it’s about how I move through the world.

So I wanted that same freedom for my kids. One of my sons, when he was little, loved everything pink, sparkly, and Hello Kitty. His favorite shoes were bright pink rainbow Hello Kitty sneakers. And that didn’t mean anything—it just meant he liked them.

No panic, no labels. Just a kid being a kid.

Meagan:
Yes—letting kids be kids. I love that. And it really is about allowing creativity and self-expression without fear or judgment.

Mel:
Exactly. And it goes both ways—if a child says, “I’m not a boy, I’m a girl,” that deserves absolute respect. But also, sometimes boys just like pink. Sometimes girls just want cargo shorts.

None of that determines identity. It’s simply who they are, in that moment.

Meagan:
Beautifully said. And it really challenges us as parents to examine where our discomfort comes from—whether it’s fear, social pressure, or the beliefs we inherited.

Mel:
Yes, exactly. It’s about recognizing that most of our knee-jerk reactions come from old social conditioning—not from love. And once you see that, it’s easier to let go.

Key Themes Discussed

• Raising a child who identifies as transgender and non-binary

• Faith, inclusion, and the difference between doctrine and policy

• Acceptance vs. affirmation in parenting

• Understanding asexuality and the heteronormative lens

• Letting go of social norms and embracing bodily autonomy

• Creating safe spaces for authentic self-expression