It’s All A Facade
(From my journal dated 7/5/2018)
As the inflatable air mattress once again begins to sag beneath me, accompanied by popping sounds as it sinks ever so slowly, I ponder the ways of the world.
Life is like the air bed... we inflate it to withstand our weight, but it sinks ever so slowly with agonizing pressure. Then we inflate it all over again. But there are minute holes to be patched, sealed, taped - repaired!! If only we can locate those dreadful leaks. If only.
Some days are better than others. Yesterday was a physically unbearable day, in a way giving birth never was. It was remarkably difficult and painful. Unbelievably painful. Today was - well, different. Emotionally trying. Getting another proverbial nail in the coffin of the female that was N.
When will it stop? How much more will we have to endure before the realization hits that it’s all a facade, a superficial cloak - an invisible cloak? But, unlike in the Harry Potter books, this cloak is transparent. It’s totally see through. All this is merely a coverup of reality. This can’t go on forever. It’s so unhealthy.
Why did this have to happen to us, when the dangers of peer pressure were so thoroughly (we thought) explained?
Social contagion. Cult. Brainwashing. Body snatching!! All new terms that are fouling the English language and grammar, completely rewriting the rules, disturbing the equilibrium of fragile, societal norms and legitimizing something that was never meant to be legitimate.
If I must stand firm to save a life, to protect someone from self-destruction, I will stand firm. And knowing that I’m not alone in experiencing this phenomenon is comforting, albeit nerve-wracking.
How to turn this around? How did my own mother deal with this (regarding my own prepubescent tomboy youth)? How did I survive my own (“gender”) deviations to become who I am - not completely one way or the other? (edit: I don’t “identify” as non-binary, I am an adult human female!)
It’s maddening.
I am sorry, my heart goes out to you and everyone else who is having to deal with this cultural tragedy. I raised three lovely girls and I am ever thankful it was before this social contagion really took hold. As a Jr. High teacher in a rural community I see hints of it in our area. What you and others share educate me and I pass it on to others on my blog, in conversations with parents, friends, and family.
This is so hard to watch our daughters disappear before our eyes. The last time I saw my youngest daughter, now age 41, in the Summer of 2017, the thought came to me, “She is a Chimera.” Not female anymore, not ever male. Forever altered by surgery and drugs. The daughter I once knew is gone forever. Even if she changed her mind, her voice will remain deep, her build bulky, her hairline will continue to recede, and who knows how her heart is doing with T in her system for the past six years. It is like she died because the person she was did die, but this person who is connected to me remains. The one who will not speak to me because I do not agree she became a man. The biggest pain is thinking her daughter, my granddaughter, who was five when this started. She lost her mother. I have not seen her since this started. We are not allowed because we will not “affirm” this insanity. I send my granddaughter gifts and never receive a response. I hope someday when she is a legal adult she will reach out. I am not holding my breath, however. Indoctrination is a real thing and we may be the boogeymen to her, based on what she has been told. The whole thing is a moving open wound that never heals. I want you to know, I understand your pain and we’re you beside me, I would give you a hug.