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Children and parents across the country have been caught off guard by gender ideology. Discussions about transgenderism and “gender identity” went from being a relatively benign and isolated social oddity to a doctrine that has invaded nearly every academic, medical, and educational institution, seemingly overnight. How did we get to this point? How did we get to the point where nearly every pediatric institution in the country considers it best practice to remove children’s healthy breast tissue while administering drugs typically used to chemically castrate high risk sex offenders?
Raising these important questions is not bigoted, and the refusal of activists to give straightforward answers should be seen as a major red flag. People across the entire political spectrum who believe that this practice is morally wrong have been told they are fascists and bigots for even questioning this atrocity. Parents are being convinced by self-proclaimed “gender specialists” that this is the only treatment that will not end in your child committing suicide. I believe Americans deserve to know the truth about this radical and perverse ideology that is being marketed as necessary and “life-saving” healthcare.
I was only 12 years old when I told my parents I was a boy. Like many parents in that situation, they didn’t have a clue what to do; they were scared and desperate for answers. They wanted what every parent wants for their child— for me to be okay and to thrive. At 13 years old, on advice of so-called “medical professionals,” I was put on puberty blocking medication, and one month later I was given my first testosterone injection. The gender clinic presented my parents with the classic false dichotomy regarding children with gender dysphoria: “Would you rather have a dead daughter or a live son?” Given these options, what loving parent wouldn’t choose to transition their child? Scared for my life, my parents were prepared to sign and consent to anything the doctors would have asked. This was not informed consent, it was a decision forced under extreme duress.
At 15 I went under the knife for a radical double mastectomy, the kind that breast cancer patients get. This was after I was sexually assaulted at school, by a male student. I told myself to “man up,” but I lived my life in constant hatred of my breasts. I started binding, which deformed my breasts as well as my ribcage. I was afraid, and couldn’t wait to finally protect my body from the threat of further molestation. At 16, I understood what had happened to me, and that I had made a huge mistake. I realized that the beauty of motherhood was stolen from me by medical professionals who my family entrusted me to. I realized, after maturing a bit more, that a child does not in fact “know who they are” at 12 years old. I realized that I wanted to be what I always was and forever will be—a woman.
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