People sometimes ask me what it's like to be a parent going through this nightmare. It feels powerless, honestly. My son was only eight when his mom took him to a gender clinic that would change all of our lives. She never told me. She never asked my opinion. We shared joint custody of Miles, but it was only by accident that I stumbled on his medical records and learned that my innocent, vulnerable autistic son was weeks away from his first puberty-blocking drugs. It's a shock no parent gets over.
Flipping through the pages of notes from his "therapist," I realized Miles hadn't just been manipulated into believing he was a transgender girl, but that they were having serious conversations with him about irreversible surgery options and drugs. The schools started calling him Miley. Everyone in the medical establishment treats him like a girl. I'm the only adult in his life that isn't affirming his delusion -- the only one fighting back.
Miles is 12 now, and the only reason he hasn't undergone any radical gender transition surgeries or taken dangerous hormones is because I went to court to stop it. But it never should have come to that. This state-sanction cult should have never had access to my boy.
When I hear the stories of other parents, who aren't so lucky -- whose children walked all the way down this agonizing path or mutilated their bodies -- the pain is all too familiar. "I can't even describe what it's like to see your own child's face with the opposite gender superimposed on it," moms like Lynn Meagher have said. "It's just... I can't even describe it..." Parents like Elaine Davidson still struggle to talk about the bloody bandages covering the place where their daughters' breasts used to be. "I begged everyone I could [to stop the surgery]. I begged her. I couldn't stop it." Losing a child to this tortured life is like a death in the family. Only, there was no goodbye. No ceremony. "No one sent us flowers," Lisa grieves. "No one dropped off a casserole."
Like every parent who's gone through this, I sometimes sit and think about what I could have done. And if I had it to do all over again, there would be a lot I would do differently. I wouldn't let my son interact with the institutions that've been co-opted by the transgender movement. I would homeschool him. I'd be very careful with everyone, any adult that has influence in his life, because this ideology is everywhere. It's in the schools. It's online. It's in cartoons and media. It's in the medical system.
There is no way my autistic little boy voluntarily self-identified as a transgender lesbian unless he was convinced of that by an adult. But if they can do it to my son, they can do it to any child. And that's why I'm speaking out.
I only have one voice -- but you have millions. And right now in Missouri, your elected leaders are about to vote on a bill that would protect kids like Miles. If it passes, it will make these kinds of radical experiments and dangerous hormones illegal for children. It's called the Missouri Save Adolescents from Experimentation (SAFE) Act, and the Missouri House General laws Committee is scheduled to vote this coming Monday.
I wasn't able to testify, but if I could have, I would have pleaded with your legislators to stand in the gap and stop this evil. It's time for Americans to wake up and realize that our kids are under attack -- and it's up to us to save them.
Will you speak up for me? Will you speak up for Miles, and children like him?
The Left is not just waiting for kids to fall through the cracks. They're sweeping kids like mine toward the cracks. If you live in Missouri, help us stop this. Speak out. I've been fighting this ideology for years, and we've made a lot of progress. But it will take laws like this one to save our sons and daughters from a lifetime of regret.
