All I want for Christmas is my two front breasts. You see, I dabbled in political transgenderism. I believed what the communist transgender activists told me, in what the doctors and psychologists were selling me so they could line their own pockets, and in what my supposedly supportive school counselors were pushing me to do even though I wasn’t sure. But now I regret it – big time. It’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made and I’ve screwed up my life.
I was 13 when it started. I started thinking maybe I was in the wrong body. “If you don’t like your body, that’s a sign you’re trans,” social media influencers said. I thought transitioning would help me with my depression and suicidal thoughts. Change my name and pronouns and all my troubles would disappear. Lots of girls around me were transitioning, it was contagious. One visit to Planned Parenthood was all it took. They acted like they had the answer to my every problem even though they didn’t even know me from Adam or Eve. I started taking testosterone and it was like some monster took over my life. I was irritable. I wanted to hurt people. I hurt myself, instead, and ended up in the emergency room. I started to grow a beard. My voice changed into a squeak. I didn’t go out socially, anymore. I stopped taking testosterone 18 months later and this whole cycle stopped, but not one adult tied my personality changes to the testosterone in all that time. They just told me I had ‘internalized transphobia’. What a crock.
I had my breasts removed. I remember feeling awful when I looked down and saw the gashes on my chest. But I believed once I was a boy, I would have the self-confidence I had always craved. The drugs, the surgery – none of this was really making me a man. I was just kidding myself. I was living a lie. I was trying to pass as male but was scared to death every moment I would be found out, that my new genitalia was just a prosthetic. I considered surgery for a real one, but then I would have ended up with urinary problems and loss of all sexual feeling. And it still wouldn’t have been real, just a piece of my arm muscle relocated down south.
The trans community lied to me. They told me feeling uncomfortable in my own body was about transgenderism when it was just a normal part of growing up. They didn’t tell me the damage I was doing to myself was irreversible. They told me my family didn’t understand me so they were my family now, just like a cult. The trans influencers on YouTube looked really cool. They told me top surgery would bring me so much joy. So I was meeting all these attractive, confident transitioners online but felt lonelier than ever. They kept me from making real friends and finding other ways to cope with the feelings I was having. The path they laid out for me was really very confusing. My attraction to men didn’t go away, so what was I going to be – a gay trans guy? I was more confused than ever. I was in such a broken place. But the doctors and mental health professionals told my parents that, unless I were affirmed in transitioning and in finding my true ‘gender identity’, my ‘authentic self’, I would kill myself. I hear pushy professionals like that are starting to get sued for malpractice and for ruining young lives for their own profit. Good. It’s about time.
And when I started to question my transitioning, all my supposed friends became toxic and turned against me. Now that I’m detransitioning, they just call me a bigot. I see now they never did care about me. They only cared about burning up people like me to build their political movement. I wasn’t a person; I was a battleground. I’ve reached out to a couple of people I knew from those days, but they’ve shunned me entirely.
I’d like to have children, someday. I don’t know if that will be possible. I certainly won’t be breast-feeding them, that hope burned up in a medical waste incinerator. Breast implants make my clothes fit better. I might have reconstructive surgery, I don’t know. But what is better now is that I accept myself as myself. I am what I am. I found a community of detransitioners, and that’s helped.
Santa, I destroyed my life. I’m not going to tell you I’m a victim. I did this to myself, but I did have help. I got used by a lot of people for their own agendas – the activists, the social media influencers, the profiteers, all of them. They knew exactly what they were doing and they manipulated me every step of the way. Tell a psychologist you’re a tomboy and they say right back, ‘Oh, you’re transgender’ and put you on hormones the next day. It’s not right, telling children that right off the bat. It’s sick. People need to wake up. This whole communist political transgenderism trip is intended to tear society apart and it’s doing a good job of it.
Santa, I know you can’t give me my life or even my breasts back. But you can warn people political transgenderism is about the worst lump of coal they could ever wish on anybody.
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