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A recently featured story in the New York Times was a mother’s account as to how she and her husband empowered their six year old son to transform from a boy to a girl.  The mother’s version of the transformation was heart-wrenching, but not because it was a moving account of an inspirational makeover.  It was heartbreaking, because parents engaged in a dramatic process which will undoubtedly bring emotional distress to their own child in the near future.

I will briefly describe the mother’s account of this stage show.  Accordingly, the young six year old enjoyed dressing in a green sparkly dress that was a costume for his puppet theater, that his parents purchased for him.  My first question: How large were the puppets, Mom?  Were they the size of a six year old?  Can you say Chuckie?

The young male would wear the dress all day at home, changing only to leave the house.  He would ask his parents to tie the halter behind his neck, and they cheerfully obliged him.  After all, his mother believes that if a girl can wear pants, why shouldn’t a boy wear a dress.  With time and his parents’ approval,  or should I say with his parents’ delight, the child began wearing the green sparkly dress every day,  outside the home to the store, to the park, and even to the lake.  Call me a clean freak, but wouldn’t that one dress be getting mighty nasty by now?

It was time for school to start, and the parents “claim” they were at a crossroads.  So, they asked the six-year old, “What do you think you will do with your dress when school starts in a couple of weeks?  You’ll need new clothes for the new school year.  What should we buy?”   The child wasn’t sure at first.  But on the morning before school started he made his decision.  He wanted to wear skirts and dresses to school.  The mother asked him, “What do you think the other kids will say tomorrow if you wear a dress to school?”  The boy said, “They’ll ask me if I’m a boy or a girl?”  The mother continued, “And how will that make you feel?”  He said he didn’t know, but he wanted to wear a dress.

So mom took her little boy shopping for new skirts and dresses for the first week of school.  They role-played as to what his responses would be when the other children made unkind comments.  The next day he wore a skirt with a top and white sandals to school with his short hair pushed back with hair barrettes.  As the school year progressed, he quit telling the children that he was a boy in a skirt and that he was a girl in a skirt.  The parents now celebrate the fact that they have a little girl instead of a little boy.

While I realize that there are parents that lead their children down the road of gender confusion by continuing with a fantasy that he is a she or she is a he, I am still sickened that these parents are so clueless or twisted.  The mother, whose story I just paraphrased, is proud and happy for her now eight year old son who calls himself a girl.  She specifically highlights her happiness for her new daughter.  With nary a thought as to the child’s mental confusion that will unquestionably arise as he approaches puberty, this mother and the boy’s father did the unthinkable.  They encouraged their young son to identify as a girl.  When they should have been “guiding” him towards the acceptance of his own God-given gender,  they allowed a six year old to make the decision that he would rather be a girl.

It is commonplace for little boys to play dress up with their sisters or cook on an Easy Bake oven.  What pre-school age child hasn’t tried to walk in his or her mother’s high heels or Dad’s oversized boots?  As a child I never owned or asked for a doll.  I was too busy playing ball, shooting marbles, or climbing and hanging out in trees.  I didn’t want to be a boy.  I didn’t think I was a boy.  And had I even suggested such nonsense, my parents would have said, “Get some sense about you, girl!”

But then again, back in the day, our parents had that rare ability to think logically…and I mean rare as in comparison to the parents of today who encourage their children to become transgender.  Too many parents of today are dimwits who have been raise in the politically correct world of wisdom-less fools.

How any mother could possibly be happy and celebrate her son’s mental confusion of gender identity is not only a mystery but borders on child abuse.  Transgender people suffer from depression, anxiety, phobias, and many other mental disorders.  There is a high rate of suicide among transgenders, even after they have the gender reassignment surgery.  Why would any loving parent want to debilitate their child with such notions that they are a girl trapped in a boy’s body or vice versa?

There are no specific chromosome aberrations or molecular mutations in the genes found in those people who claim gender confusion.  It is a mental disorder that has been successfully treated with psychotherapy.  Considering that in a study of 6000 transgender people, 41% acknowledge that they have attempted suicide, is indicative of the mental illness which plagues these individuals.  It is scientifically impossible to be a man trapped in a woman’s body or woman trapped in a man’s body.

So, why would parents want to continue this myth with their child, unless of course, that the parent needs his or her own form of psychotherapy.  Encouraging a child to behave outside of his physical self is indeed a form of child endangerment if not abuse.   Or perhaps, in the case of the aforementioned mother, a parent might want to write a book, or she is seeking attention at the expense of her child’s mental health.

We are living in an age where parents are charged with neglect for allowing their school-age children to walk to a park two blocks from their home.  But a parent who promotes self-delusion in the psychological development of their child is praised for heroism.  And in the case of this mother, paid to advance a writing career as she sacrifices her young son to the demons of mental illness.


  1. I totally agree with you. I too was a tomboy like you, playing with my 5 brothers. I LOVED doing guy things..including running the bases without a shirt on until I was about 8. THANK GOD my parents had some common sense and didn’t force me to be their 6th son!

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