A Mother's Heartache

My life began the day my beautiful son was born. With his first breath I found my purpose in life and a love that I had never experienced before. He made me a mother. I have other children now besides him, but he always will hold a special place in my heart because he made me who I was meant to be.

He was the sweetest, kindest, cutest thing I had ever met. He was always studying things and learning new things because knowledge was something he craved. From the start, he was trying to figure out how his hands worked, then moved on to taking his toys apart and trying to put them back together. He spent all day outside in the dirt and the mud. We would joke and call him our farm animal because at the end of everyday, that’s what he smelled like. He was always into boy things. Boy clothes, boy toys, boy activities. He wrestled, he rode his bike, he loved trucks and cars and heavy equipment. It was in his blood. He was to be my husband’s legacy, and we have been damn proud of this boy his entire life. 

At 13 my son opened my eyes to the world of politics and activism. I started my journey because of him and did a lot of work in the name of parental rights. I saw this agenda many years ago being weaponized against our children and have been fighting for them ever since. Since then, he has changed his mindset 180 degrees. I know he knows in his heart what is right, but he has been dealt a deceitful and harmful narrative in the name of acceptance. 

I vividly remember the first day of freshman year when I dropped him off at high school. He was proud of who he was, he had charisma and a confidence that was unmatched. He has always been a handsome kid too. My boy walked into that school with the biggest smile on his face. This was 5 years ago, and I still remember it like it was yesterday. I sat there thinking how proud I was of him, not only his academics, his abilities and his talents, but his character and the man he was becoming.

That was the last time I can genuinely say I saw my sweet boy that happy. By the middle of his freshman year he was depressed, secluded, miserable and not someone I knew anymore. I asked him what was wrong, gave him the love I thought he needed, put him in counseling and racked my brain every day as to how I could help him. Nothing helped. Little did I know the extent of the damage being done at school to his psyche. At his school if you were not gay or trans, you were not cool. You were referred to as a “breeder” and it was not a good thing. In the middle of his sophomore year, I made a decision some may say this was irresponsible—I pulled him out of school and he never went back. I was doing what I felt like I needed to in order to save my child’s life. He ended up testing out of school that summer and started working full time.

I was so proud of his work ethic and his drive to be a better person. It seemed as though this was the right move for him and our family and he was doing better. He wasn’t. He was putting on a face for me and biding his time until he moved out.

At 18 he was gone. He moved half way across the country to make a life for himself and that’s when I found out all of the things that had actually been going on in my sweet boy’s head. He was raised in a stable home, with hardworking parents who were trying to live the American dream. He saw his parents come from nothing, to reaching their lofty goals through great sacrifice and dedication. He was raised by two parents who not only love their children with everything in them, but also love each other. The myth that these children come from unstable broken homes, is just that. The cult has their grip on these children unlike anything I have ever seen or expected.

My son had been taking hormones at home. I had no idea. They were being supplied to him by a friend, not a doctor, not an adult, but a friend. His whole personality changed. He began to cry all of the time, had aches and pains I tried to make go away with solid advice. I had no idea he knew the cause of the pain. My son is against big pharma in a big way, he will not take Tylenol or Motrin, but he was taking hormones. He has been convinced they are safe, with no longterm side effects. 

He moved out and started dating a transgirl. His first relationship ever. He was manipulated into paying for things this person tried to steal, lying to his roommates, manipulating people, and doing things he had never done before. In the first two months of living out of our home he would call me every so often and tell me how grateful he was for the life he was given and how grateful he was to be blessed with the parents he had. He would tell his dad how much he admired him for his hard work and dedication to his family, and all of his sacrifices didn't go unnoticed. I found it strange, but at the same time I soaked it in. We have since learned these phone calls were coming from a place of guilt and confusion due to things he had been doing. I know his words were insincere, but they came from a child who was hurting and trying to make sense of everything. He is still struggling.  

At the time of this writing I have now talked to him about his choices and what he will do down the road. He says that being transgender is not a mental illness, it is normal. He tells me I am too old to understand what any of this means and I am uneducated on the matter. I have spent countless hours researching this trend, the side effects and the remorse many have gone though when they realized they were lied to about the implications of the treatment and the lifestyle as a whole. I have spoken to trans people who said they knew their whole life this was who they were to be. They had signs very young of something being different. My son has nothing in common with the things they experienced. I told my son that, if this was normal, humanity wouldn’t have lasted this long. I explained how hormone replacement and surgery is a multi-billon dollar industry. None of this matters to him. Reason and logic no longer play a role in his normal brain functions. 

I have given him resources and contacts to reach out to those who offer different perspectives than those he has been brainwashed with. I don’t know if he will utilize any of it. I have extended a hand to help and a heart to love my child. I will not affirm this, I will not support this and I will not play pretend with him while I know there is a mental illness at play and a pressure from the culture that is unmatched. 

I share my story because I know there are many other mothers out there struggling with this with very little resources and support. I have searched for it, I have only found websites and forums that tell me that I am the problem and that I need to accept this. I will fight for my child, but I will not buy into a false reality based entirely on feelings and outside negative influences.