The Talk

I recently tried to have The Talk. As a lifelong liberal Democrat, most people in my social circle are also liberal Democrats. Most of them don’t know my son is trans identifying. That is, I haven’t made any mention of it. I. Do. Not. Talk. About. It.

Since he is older, many of my friends don’t see him very much. They may have seen a picture on Facebook (although I don’t post often), but he just has long hair and an anime sweatshirt, which could be many college age kids these days. (His synthetic estrogen-created breasts are hidden under the sweatshirt.) I talk with my friends about my worries for my son, how I’m afraid his autism and acute social anxiety seem to be trapping him in a suspended state of terrified adolescence. But I do not bring up his trans identity, because I don’t want to deal with their horror and disbelief that I, a liberal Democrat, do not affirm it.

It’s an interesting thing; what this whole trans ideology has done to us. From my left-leaning perspective, I see it break the brains of people I love and respect on a daily basis. They can go in a heartbeat from thinking I am “like them” ideologically, to wondering how I could have become the kind of hate-filled bigot that would not accept my child’s existence.

Now, I know better than to try to have the talk with just anyone. I’m not a masochist. I only try when there has been a crack - when I think I detect a little light shining through. And I’ve only tried a few times. The first time was a few years ago, when my friend L. was reminiscing about our shared love for Harry Potter. She brought it up, and she had previously in the evening mentioned that she thought perhaps COVID did come from a lab leak after all. “Aha!” I thought. “A crack! Maybe she’s open to hearing about my perspective as the parent of an ROGD autistic boy. Maybe she even already agrees with me!” I became cautiously excited. My adrenalin started to race. She asked me; what did I think about J. K. Rowling now, given her recent comments? I took a breath. I contemplated lying. I decided I was sick and tired of not speaking up. I said: “I agree with her.”

It was like all the air was sucked out of the room. I instantly knew she did not agree with J. K., or with me. I felt the portcullis crash down. It was like I could hear her thoughts - “Oh, she’s just not informed on the subject. I must educate her. Poor lost soul.” I wanted to say - oh honey. I know you think you are ahead of me. But you are not. I used to be where you are. Now I am ahead of you. In fact, I have lapped you multiple times. I wanted to open my mouth and let everything I’ve ever read and heard about this come vomiting out. She has a family member (not her child) going through this, and I know she thinks she has done research, but if all you’re reading is people who believe Jack Turbin, what good is it?

My most recent attempt at The Talk was a few weeks ago. My good friend B. was very upset by the election. She kept saying “I don’t understand how people could vote for this.” She was in such genuine distress, I wanted to help her. She had shown herself in the past to be a curious, open minded, and compassionate person. Maybe she would get it? So I offered: “I can’t tell you why people voted for Trump, but I know what a lot of people were voting against. If you want to hear my perspective on that, I can tell you.” So I took a breath and told her.

Very much to her credit, she listened. But she couldn’t hear me. And I believe that she tried. But it’s like her ears were stopped up with “Believe people when they tell you who they are.” She couldn’t get past that. I became very frustrated with myself. Why couldn’t I explain it better? She must not understand what I was saying, because if she did, she would get it - that the fast-track, no exploratory talk therapy, immediate blanket medicalization of every young person who states a trans identity is a horrible idea that has to be stopped.

Maybe you can’t understand this without listening to 200 hours of podcasts. There’s so much. The flawed Dutch protocol, the suicide myth, the Tavistock clinic, Mermaids, Jazz Jennings, Joanna Olsen Kennedy, WPATH, the Cass Report, every episode of Gender - A Wider Lens. It’s overwhelming. Especially to someone who doesn’t understand why they should care about the gory details, and who thinks “Be Kind” makes a good T-shirt slogan. (When someone tells me to be kind at this point, I kind of want to punch them in the face.)

I did not vote for Trump, but I was relieved when he won. I am so happy about the Executive Orders to stop the dangerous gender non-sense. But my Trump-euphoria is beginning to wane, because people like my friends, smart, compassionate people, think anything he says must be wrong because he said it. They cannot evaluate anything he does on its own merits. We’re in for a long four years. My hope is that enough smart, compassionate liberals can open their ears and start to hear the pleas of parents and detransitioners and gay adults who are so glad they were able to grow up intact. Maybe I need to have The Talk more often.