The transgender plague strikes close to home
A man I’ve known since he was a child is now “transgender” — and it’s incredibly painful to witness.
You all know how incredibly hostile I am to so-called transgenderism. Unlike homosexuality, which has been part of humanity since time immemorial (that’s not a value judgment; it’s a fact), so-called transgenderism is a new and fantastical idea, one that claims that biological sex and sex roles are utterly meaningless. This is dangerous nonsense, imposing huge costs on society (just think of the damage to the military) and especially to the people caught up in this madness.
Some in the latter category are genuinely mentally ill, and some are perverse opportunists. However, to the extent that transgenderism is now being pushed on young people from every corner (school, college, social media, entertainment, psychiatry), I suspect that untold numbers of them have simply been brainwashed. It’s that last point that brings me to something that left me just so sad.
After a very long hiatus, I caught up with an old friend. Of course, I asked how her children are doing. That’s how I learned for the first time that her son has announced that he’s actually a woman and is now on hormones. Here’s what I can tell you about this young man without breaching his privacy: He’s truly brilliant, has a charismatic personality, is a hugely loving and lovable person, and is homosexual, something that came as a surprise to absolutely nobody.
This young man went off to a large urban college. When COVID hit and the lockdowns started, he was still beginning to find himself. Because the college is in a blue state, he went from the social whirl that suited him, to COVID isolation. Unsurprisingly, he became depressed. The diagnosis was inevitable (and I don’t know whether it came from him or some quack therapist): He was depressed because he’s not really a gay man; he’s actually a woman.
Because this man is talented, charming, and charismatic, he has a thriving social media channel. I won’t tell you what it is, but I went there to see what he’s become. I was horrified.
First, he’s emaciated, so he’s not eating right. Second, he went from speaking like a healthy young man to presenting with a breathy, die-away voice. Third, his behavior is a grotesque parody of femininity, as he constantly flips his hair, fusses with his earrings, and flashes his polished nails.
The sparkling boy I once knew has nothing about him that says “This is a woman.” Instead, he presents as some nightmare caricature of past Hollywood vamps, everyone from Marilyn Monroe to Betty Boop to Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard. He doesn’t appear happy and fulfilled; he appears desperate and devoid of self.
My friend, of course, was told that, if she doesn’t accept that her son is now a daughter, she’ll essentially be driving him to suicide. Part of her knows that’s not true, but part of her is absolutely terrified that it might be true. She adores him (he is, as I said, a loving soul and she’s a loving mother), so she will accept this simulacrum of a human being, this celluloid, fake, overacting mockery of a woman.
My hope for both of them is that he realizes that this is not the road to happiness before the hormones go too far and certainly before he starts slicing and dicing the healthy young male body that is already being eaten away by estrogen.
I can’t tell you how upset I am about this. It’s one thing to despise what’s happening in the abstract. It’s another thing entirely when it happens to someone you know and have always admired for his many virtues. This is just too heartbreaking for words.
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Image: A grotesque parody of a woman (who is not the young man I’m writing about), from Rawpixel.com (edited for size).
