Notes on the Journey

Posts tagged ‘Brandon Showalter’

Removing Healthy Organs Is Medical Mayhem


This is an article from The Christian Post which I have reprinted here. It seems to me that so-called Christians are the only ones who have the guts to stand up and oppose the eugenic medical abuse of vulnerable men and women. ~Madam Nomad

A detransitioner in agony recounts how gender doctors manipulated him into castration, hormones

By Brandon Showalter, CP Reporter

Warning: This article contains graphic details of chemical and surgical procedures performed on an individual who once identified as transgender. Descriptions also include bodily functions of adult subject matter. 

When Marcus Fitz started ejaculating blood it finally occurred to him that just maybe the medical professionals he trusted had been misleading him.

For several years, he said, the doctors he was seeing enticed him with gender transition surgery and led him to believe that being castrated was a beneficial option that would improve his overall health and well-being.

Fitz, 41, is originally from the Midwest and now resides in California. He is among the rising number of people known as “detransitioners,” having identified as transgender for over a decade but no longer does. Fitz lived a “mostly stealth” life and frequently lied to coworkers, neighbors, and new friends about his biological sex.

Now suffering from a host of medical complications as a result of years of hormone treatment, including phantom pain in his groin and bouts of severe depression, he is five years into his detransition journey and is reintegrating with his anatomically male body.

At his request, he is using a pseudonym in this article and other identifying details have been removed for fear of harassment. He feels it’s important that people learn about the deceptive practices of medical personnel at gender clinics that push cross-sex hormones and transgender surgeries, which he says have left him psychologically scarred, physically mutilated, and with a severely compromised endocrine system.

To verify his story, CP corroborated his account with several people he identified who confirmed that the story he shared was truthful. CP also reviewed medical documents and relevant court filings.

Gender confusion early on

Growing up in the culturally conservative Midwest, school was always hard for Fitz, as he was frequently bullied throughout every grade.

“I was not the most masculine boy. I had effeminate traits, was called homophobic slurs … and this was well before the age of developing any sense of sexuality. So I grew up with this idea that gay was bad and not something that I wanted to be,” he detailed.

As he matured and became more aware of his sense of self and how he would carry himself, he began to see how homosexuals were mocked and that he was displaying some of those behaviors and stereotypes.

Uncomfortable with his body during adolescence, the pubertal processes were never explained to him. The random erections, nocturnal emissions, and other bodily developments caused extreme self-consciousness, leading him to think he was a pervert, the kind he saw villainized in books and movies.

Fitz was not raised in a religious home, calling his upbringing “secular” but with “good Midwestern rural values.” Politically speaking, he has always leaned to the left but considers himself an independent and not an ideological purist.

It was at a public university in the Midwest in the late 1990s and early 2000s where he first heard about transgenderism, recalling a specific time when he read an article in the student newspaper from someone who had written that he realized that being effeminate made him a woman despite actually being physiologically male. Seizing on this, Fitz thought: This is the answer! I’m not gay, I’m just actually a woman.

Thus, a relocation to the West Coast was in order so he could figure this out in an ostensibly more supportive environment. Upon graduating from college he sold all his belongings, said goodbye to his family and headed to California. Not long after he got settled in, he went to a community free clinic in the city and talked to a clinician who, he would later find out, was not a licensed therapist and was serving in more of an intern role, a student volunteer.

“I spoke to her maybe four times. She was fascinated with me,” Fitz said, noting his earliest memories of exploring transition.

Much of what she said during those sessions was along the lines of “discovering your authentic self” as the opposite sex and other transgender jargon Fitz now considers nonsense.

She ultimately referred him to a local gender clinic so he could seek medical transition, which he did. After waiting an hour at this new clinic, he had a 15-minute appointment with a registered nurse who immediately affirmed him as the opposite sex. At the end of the appointment she prescribed him hormones.

“If you think you are trans, that means you are trans,” Fitz said the nurse told him, adding that those were her exact words.

“Then I was given this piece of paper to sign which had many scary things on it and I was told not to worry about them, that they ‘would do everything in our power to prevent them’ and that this was basically a formality.”

The paper was an informed consent document, which CP reviewed.

Fitz was prescribed Estrodiol and spironolactone. Estrodiol is synthetic estrogen in pill form. Spironolactone is an anti-androgen, a testosterone suppressant, also in pill form.

He started taking the drugs, began dressing in women’s clothes part time, and consulted pro-transgender internet resources, which he now says “have all sorts of horrible advice” on them.

Further contributing to the idea that transgenderism was a glamorous pathway was the 2005 film “Transamerica” starring Felicity Huffman, who received a Best Actress Oscar nomination for her leading role in the movie. The movie reportedly contains a line saying that after genital surgery “not even a gynecologist would be able to tell the difference,” which, Fitz says, is “stupidly untrue.”

As Fitz became more serious about becoming trans he realized that there is only one way to go: cut off all ties with family, and change one’s name, wardrobe and sex marker on all of his official legal documents.

“There’s no alternative. That’s just what you do,” he told CP, adding that transition is always billed as “medically necessary.”

Within the institutions promoting the medicalization of gender, the people staffing the offices have an answer for almost every concern or objection.

When Fitz expressed concerns about the ill effects the hormones might have on his liver, he said he was told: “Well no, don’t worry about that. That’s why we do blood tests every six months.”

The small dose of estrogen he was given was quickly increased. He soon found himself taking six milligrams of estrogen. Since he started detransitioning, he has been informed that six milligrams is the legal maximum. He was told up front that spironolactone was a diuretic, which made him concerned about potential damage to his bladder, wondering if he was going be incontinent later in life.

The transgender illusion intensifies, the surgery push

“This whole [transgender] thing became kind of intoxicating, socially and physically. It was kind of a thrill. I felt I was treated better. People were smiling at me on the street, holding doors open for me. I was getting all this positive attention,” Fitz recalled.

“And estrogen in males, it kind of dulls our senses, mellows us out … and it feels good.”

But it also made him a bit of a mess, he admitted.

During his transition years he was unemployed and underemployed a number of times, going on unemployment insurance for a single 18-month period spanning 2008 to 2010.

Every time Fitz would go to the clinic for an appointment, the office staff would try to sell him on the idea of surgery, marketing it to him as though it was the next logical and necessary step in his journey.

“Every appointment began with: ‘How are your prescriptions and would you like any surgery?'” he said.

“It was like going into a restaurant and the waiter offering you the menu,” he said of the script they used. “It was an up-sale.”

Though he didn’t have benefits, when Fitz was able to work full time it caused him to feel successful, that things were at last going to work out after years of struggling.

Being a “free” clinic, the office had a sliding scale program that was government-subsidized.

“I would go in and they would ask: ‘What is your income, what are you assets?'” he recalled.

“So if you’re making nothing and you have maybe $5,000 in your checking account, you don’t have to pay anything — not for the appointment, not for the pills. If you’re making 10 or 15 dollars an hour and you have $10,000 in your checking account, then maybe you have to pay $15 as a co-pay. But it was never very expensive at all,” he said.

The financial ease with which he was able to acquire the drugs psychologically fed his perception that none of this was a particularly big deal and that this was, in fact, normal medicine.

After one such “up-sale” in the gender clinic in 2011, Fitz said he “broke” and said to them: “You’re always asking me about surgery. What have you got? What are you trying to do?”

He was then told about feminizing facial surgery where they would shave down part of his brow, shave down his Adams apple — called a chondrolaryngoplasty — and place implants in his chest and hips. They also offered the full vaginoplasty, where they remove the testicles and invert the penis to resemble a vaginal canal.

“Or we could just do an orchiectomy,” they told him, offering a short surgery where they remove the testicles, except they did not say the word “testicles” when they explained the procedure to him.

“That word was never used. The gender clinic staff always avoided sex-specific biological terms, preferring genderist euphemisms instead. I was told we were ‘removing the part that makes testosterone.’ I thought they were removing a tiny part of the testes, not the whole of them,” he said.

This was appealing to Fitz because he was informed it wouldn’t change how he looked, felt, or functioned, and that it would cut down on his dependence on hormones.

“I thought, that sounds great! It’s a win-win,” he said, thinking this would alleviate his concerns about the wear and tear the hormonal treatment was having on his bladder and liver.

Additionally, the surgery was relatively inexpensive — only $1,000 — and would only take 20 minutes to perform. The doctors made it sound as though he would be getting a mole or a tooth removed, as though a tiny piece of his testicles was a bothersome, worthless piece of his anatomy that was harming him, and that the procedure to remove it was perfectly safe and normal.

He agreed to the surgery, though he asked if he should get a second opinion. He was told he did not need a second opinion.

“Just get this letter and take it to a urologist,” he was instructed.

Fitz called up a urologist and had a consultation with him. The urologist asked him if he was sure he wanted to proceed and if he had spoken with his doctor. The urologist signed off on it and an appointment for surgery was scheduled for six weeks later in November.

In 2015, when he began detransitioning, Fitz looked back at the experience and recalled being amazed at how quickly it all happened.

Asked to describe what the surgery was like, Fitz recounted: “I was told to lie in a bed and my legs were placed in stirrups. They then put you out, cut a little hole in the scrotum, and then fish them out and cut them off.”

The surgical procedure was a much bigger deal than what he was led to believe.

On the day of the operation, he took public transit to go to his surgery appointment and was surprised that they made him take off all his clothes and put on a hospital gown and hairnet and lie on a bed. This was no simple mole removal or tooth extraction, he would soon learn.

As he was wheeled into the operating room and was surrounded by medical staff, surgical equipment and lights, Fitz’s fears mounted.

“I started to ask questions like ‘what’s that?’ and ‘who is this?'” he said.

No one answered him.

Right before the anesthesia drugs took effect and he became unconscious, as they had already put the needle in his arm, he remembered saying, “Stop!”

The surgical aftermath

When he finally came to, he was “looney tunes all day” because of the drugs and he was in an enormous amount of pain. When the bandage dressing came off a few days later he could see that this was a radical change. Contrary to their promises, he was shocked to find that he looked quite different.

“And when I went to my doctor for a follow-up, the doctor was gleeful, celebrating the surgery as a wonderful metamorphosis,” Fitz said.

Because his appointments were always relatively short — approximately 15 minutes — he never got to say much.

Fitz described himself during his earlier years as a party kid and a “serial one-night stander,” never having had many close long-term relationships. Fueling his thinking that his decision to transition was the right thing to do was the political environment of the day. Radical change was in the air, he remembers sensing at the time. The Occupy Wall Street movement was making noise around the country and the Arab Spring was underway.

“I had this feeling that the world was changing. People were also talking that in 2012 the world was going to end,” he said, “a lot of revolution, so let’s charge forward. But I was behaving in a short-sighted way.”

There were several times he would go to bed with someone and, as a passable woman, his female partner would be surprised to find he had male genitals. Fitz now regrets not being honest about that. He teased men sexually but was afraid of them and never put himself in scenarios where he would be alone with men or slept with men. Sometimes he would engage in prolonged kissing with men, he said.

But after the surgery, sex was all but impossible.

“I didn’t hate my genitals, but now they looked strange, weird. My scrotum looked like a deflated balloon, like the weird thing that hangs off a chicken’s neck. It’s lifeless, an empty sac,” he said.

He did not have sex for approximately one year.

“But then I had sex because I wanted to have sex and I discovered that I was ejaculating blood,” he said.

On one particular occasion, he was with a woman, was sexually aroused, and had a premature ejaculation and it was bloody.

CP confirmed with an endocrinologist that this is indeed possible after an orchiectomy.

“That scared me, so I went back to my doctor and he said ‘Oh, I don’t know. This shouldn’t happen, we’ll run all kinds of tests,” Fitz said.

They ran tests and it took several weeks to get the results. He was then advised to “wait it out,” get a different desk chair, and to stop riding his bicycle. Fitz took all of those steps but nothing helped.

As doubts about what he had undergone began to set in, he thought the problem might be that he needed better, more expensive doctors. For that he’d need a higher salary so he decided to learn to code and write software. By the end of 2014, he got hired as a software engineer.

With better health coverage he thought he’d be able to see any doctor he wanted. At his last appointment at the gender clinic, he received a message along the lines of: “Oh, by the way, your last blood test indicated that some of your levels are low and we need you to start taking prescription-level Vitamin D and calcium.”

When Fitz asked if this was a temporary prescription he was told that it was not, that it would probably be for the rest of his life. When he pressed the staff further he was told that it was as a result of the surgery.

“The surgery was supposed to make me healthier,” he replied, “why would I now need to take prescription vitamins?”

The reason was that he was no longer producing the necessary hormones needed to maintain adequate bone density.

Fitz said he kept asking questions but before he knew it, his 15-minute appointment was over and he had to leave. Increasingly concerned, he starting asking for his medical records and began reviewing them carefully. He also asked for the letter he was asked to get signed from a urologist so he could go forward with the surgery.

The letter said that Fitz was of sound mind and was in good physical health, exceeded the standards of care set forth in the current guidelines from the World Professional Association for Transgender Health.

For the first time, Fitz then looked up the WPATH standards of care which stipulated that before hormonal treatment starts he was supposed to have had a psychological evaluation. Fitz maintains he never had one. Prior to surgery he was supposed to, according to the guidelines, have two more evaluations. Fitz says he never had those either.

Upon closer review of his medical records, which he shared with CP, he realized that the doctor had taken notes of his thoughts but had never noted any of Fitz’s worries about what the drugs might do to his liver or bladder. Irked by this bias, he did a deep-dive research on his doctor, and discovered that his doctor was actually a trans-identifying woman who presented as man.

All these years he thought he had been discussing his distinctly male health issues with a fellow male.

“I felt horribly betrayed,” Fitz told CP.

“There’s an intimate level of appreciation for your genitals and if you’re not even the same sex you can’t fully understand that, just as I have no idea what it’s like to menstruate or ovulate because, obviously, I can’t.”

Fitz also discovered that the doctor was a clinical activist, and when she was not working at the gender clinic she was giving slideshow presentations at various meetings with other doctors for more “gate-opening.” This doctor called herself a “gate-opener” as opposed to a gatekeeper.

Determined to get some concrete answers, he scheduled yet another appointment.

“This letter is an outright lie,” he said when he confronted the doctor. “You lied to the surgeon and said I exceeded the standards of care but the standards of care said I should have talked to three therapists and I haven’t talked to any.”

The doctor reportedly told him: “Yes, but I wanted to give you access to care. You couldn’t necessarily afford a therapist.”

Hearing that enraged Fitz.

“You lied!” he stressed.

“Yes, but I did it for your benefit,” she shot back.

Fitz wishes he had a recording of the conversation as he had no idea where this was going. The doctor got up and left the room and returned with a piece of paper.

“Hey, we warned you that this could happen. You agreed,” the doctor told him, brandishing the document upon returning.

At first, Fitz did not recognize the form because it had been so long since he had seen it, but then realized that it was his informed consent document that he had first signed back in 2006. This particular form was not included in his medical records when he had requested to see them as they had filed it away in his administrative record, to which he did not have access.

“So they get you to sign this piece of paper and then they put it away where you can never see it or find it and then they only produce it when you start calling them out,” he explained. “It’s for their benefit, it’s a defense for them.”

Suicidal ideation sets in amid devastation

The weight of what had transpired and the years of deception summarily hit Fitz.

Extremely depressed and in agony, he imagined and researched ways to kill himself, wondering how he might cause his death in a relatively painless way.

He thought he might travel to Canada and try to fall asleep in a snow drift or maybe swim out in the Pacific Ocean and drown himself. He sank even deeper into despair and thought he should maybe destroy his entire body, ashamed his family would discover what he had done if his body was ever recovered. Perhaps then the best course was to try and have some kind of contraption crush him under a heavy object, or maybe self-immolate by flying to Hawaii and jumping into a volcano, he remembered thinking.

Fitz also considered taking the leftover pain meds his doctor had prescribed and acquire a gun and kill himself in front of his doctor at the next Pride parade because this doctor always had a booth at the event pushing transgender medicine and surgeries. Maybe offing himself in such fashion could make an “unignorable political point and stun the doctor,” he said.

He said he had it all planned out but ultimately balked.

Fitz said he attempted suicide once, opting to jump to his death from the balcony of his high-rise apartment, but it was foiled. His cat was looking like she was going to jump off with him and he didn’t want her to die, so he stepped back from the edge.

But then he felt as though suicide was wrong entirely and he should try to channel his anguish in a positive direction and use his painful experience to help other people in similar situations.

Shuffled around to doctors

In the months that followed, he was shuffled around to various doctors, all of whom were either LGBT-identified themselves or sympathetic to transgenderism. None of them helped him, he said. One told him he needed to get some therapy to help him get over his “internalized transphobia.”

Exasperated beyond words, he figured he would go revisit the surgeon that performed the orchiectomy years earlier, thinking a follow-up visit might provide more answers.

When he showed up at his office, the surgeon’s first words were: “Oh, I saw you back in 2011. Surely you’re not here about that again.”

“Well, actually I am,” Fitz told him, and he began to recount everything that had happened since the surgery.

The surgeon then got very defensive, denied any responsibility in the complications Fitz had endured, and then told him he had to leave.

Fitz didn’t budge, recalling that he told the surgeon that he was indeed a big part of his ordeal and that the surgery caused a lot of his misery. The surgeon got up and opened the door, demanded Fitz leave and said: “You’re either leaving, or I’m calling the cops. Talk to a lawyer.”

Fitz went home and started looking for local medical malpractice lawyers, calling dozens of different attorneys, most of whom did not return his phone calls. A few talked to him but ended up calling him a “bigot” or a “transphobe” and refused to work with him. Others thought his situation was weird and told him they didn’t understand the issues and didn’t want to get involved because it sounded too risky.

Only one person said he would help him.

“I felt very stuck. If only one in 40 would help me then I must be desperate, I’ll do anything my attorney says,” Fitz told CP.

As he pursued legal recourse, he also finally found a physician who was willing to help him detransition, a doctor who advised him to get therapy, which he did. Fitz also opened a Twitter account and began tweeting under a pseudonym. He was frequently attacked by transactivists and their left-wing cheerleaders.

As it became clearer he was detransitioning and rejecting a trans identity, many of his local friends started distancing themselves because they either felt outwardly offended or uncomfortable around him and stopped talking with him. These supposed friends considered him a political liability.

Around this time, existential questions were besetting him. “Am I trans? Is anybody trans?” he would wonder. Compounding the confusion was the emergence of news stories about Caitlyn Jenner, formerly Bruce, and Rachel Dolezal, a white woman who worked for the NAACP who claimed to be black.

As transgenderism was being mainstreamed, his peers would excitedly ask him if he was happy to see positive coverage of transgender-identifying persons.

“And I would say: ‘Well, actually, no. The whole thing is a fraud and it’s starting to fall apart for me and I bet it will for everyone else too,'” he would respond.

Such exchanges were awkward and he found himself not getting invitations to parties and gatherings of friends. Others whom he thought were friends stopped taking his phone calls.

Fitz found the cognitive dissonance staggering that Dolezal was widely mocked and rejected for saying she felt like she was black but Jenner was enthusiastically embraced for saying he felt he was a woman.

The only people who offered him any meaningful help and support at the time were Christians and radical feminists.

“But today, a few short years later, support is more diverse, as more of the general public has become aware of how little sense transgenderism actually makes. I’ve got support from men and women, gay and straight, left and right,” he said.

On Twitter, the only ones who would tweet sympathy were radical feminists. He started learning more about radical feminism, and much of the analysis made a lot of sense to him. Radical feminism, he soon learned, was quite different from third wave liberal feminism, which supports transgender ideology.

Fitz took legal action against one of the doctors who treated him but is not legally permitted to say how it ended. But he was, at the time, satisfied with the conclusion.

The postoperative agony continues

As the months went by in his detransition process, Fitz increasingly found himself wanting to live free from hormones so he stopped taking them. Doctors told him not to do that but he did anyway and he soon got sick. Because of the hormone withdrawal, he started experiencing menopause-like symptoms.

“I was irritated and confused. I was fatigued. I had hot flashes and cold chills. I became easily injured. It was a bad deal,” he said.

About a year into his detransition, he received a diagnosis of being medium functional on the autism spectrum, a common comorbidity to gender dysphoria that gender ideologues usually ignore. Fitz maintains that that condition contributed to his struggles to communicate effectively with doctors.

Fitz also had to get a mastectomy. As a result of the estrogen intake he had grown breasts.

After having a prescription drug crash on one particular day, he recounted how the proverbial fog lifted and he took stock of his life, surveying the past near-decade, feeling like it had all been “some weird party-trick.”

“I used to look in the mirror and I thought I looked too male and I need to correct that. And now I was looking in the mirror and I looked too female,” he said.

He shopped around for various surgeons to remove the excess breast tissue, but some refused him because he was a detransitioner.

Before he could proceed, his surgeon requested he go on testosterone for a year. He found that, as a male, testosterone made him feel healthy and clear-headed and that it helped him sleep.

“I hate that I now have an addiction to chemical testosterone,” he said.

“Testosterone is also expensive. And when it’s not a government plan that is paying for everything, it’s costly. And it’s also a controlled substance, much more regulated than estrogen because it’s more abused.”

Fitz said it is always an administrative hassle when he changes insurance companies.

He thought that once he stopped taking the estrogen the breasts would go away, especially because when he was younger he had gynecomastia — a condition that occurs as a result of an increase in the amount of breast gland tissue in boys or men, caused by a hormonal imbalance — that went away on its own. Unfortunately, his transgender chemically-induced breast growth was there to stay.

Fitz underwent a mastectomy in February 2019.

Fighting back

Fitz has managed to reunite with his family but they do not talk about his transition. To this day, they do not know he had an orchiectomy. He is unsure about what they know of his cross-sex hormone use.

“I don’t bring it up and they don’t ask questions,” he said. “They’re aware of some details but not all.”

“They were glad to have me back. But I feel really awful for my sister because I abandoned her. She has a few kids. She had a baby when I left, and now she has two boys and one is in high school.

“I feel guilty about that.”

Yet as he continued to search for answers, he found some detransitioners online, all of whom lived in California. He eventually got together with a few of them and discussed their transition journeys.

Around that same time, another former transgender presented an opportunity for Fitz and a few others to meet with attorneys from a Christian legal firm to discuss their legal options.

Fitz had never heard of this firm but since other lawyers “didn’t give a damn” about him, he was grateful for any legal advisers who might be willing to listen and help.

“I didn’t know they were conservative-leaning Christians and when I looked them up it didn’t bother me,” he told CP.

In the fall of 2017, he and about a dozen other detransitioners went to their headquarters and sat at a table for several hours and shared their stories with them.

“From breakfast to dinner we talked. We talked and the lawyers listened. And it was very nice. Because to that point, no one was listening to us,” he said.

After they shared their personal ordeals, they discussed what they might do on a legal front. CP confirmed with another detransitioner that this meeting indeed happened.

Fitz believes lawsuits are the best tool for social change and hopes to be part of a large-scale effort to sue the gender clinics that harmed him and his fellow travelers. Though he took action against his doctor, he also wanted to sue the surgeon who performed the orchiectomy. But as a result of state statute of limitations, he could not.

Many states, including California, have one-year statutes of limitations for legal action to be taken against surgeons for malpractice. Because Fitz didn’t attempt to have sex for over a year after his surgery, it was too late for him to realize he had a problem, and his primary care doctor had told him to wait it out and that it would get better on its own.

This is a typical experience of other detransitioners he has spoken to who also regret their surgeries, he noted.

“They’ll say ‘I want to sue!’ And my first question to them is: ‘Well, how long has it been?'” Fitz said.

“It often takes up several years to come out of this gaslighting fog of what has happened to us and by then it’s far too late.”

He believes the laws are written to protect the doctors and their insurers. When lawsuits are filed against doctors, the plaintiffs mostly deal with their insurance companies, he said. Fitz still wants to sue the surgeon who removed his testicles but does not know if that is possible.

“I’d like to sue WPATH for their convoluted, misleading and negligent standards of care. I’d like to sue the Endocrine Society for being complicit. I’d like to sue the California Medical Board. I’d like to join a class-action lawsuit. I don’t know how these things can happen,” he said.

Other attorneys with whom he has explored this seem interested but often act cagey and only call him when they want to speak with him but never reply to his emails when he wants to communicate with them.

“The other side has decades on us, in terms of setting up the laws in their favor, so it’s very tricky,” he said. “It all sounds so crazy but that’s because it is crazy. When you start to look at it underneath a microscope it really is eugenics, a messed-up situation.”

Fitz believes that the transgender movement shares significant overlap with the transhumanist movement, specifically the notion “that your body is just a machine you can take apart and put back together.”

In addition to taking part in lawsuits, he wants to organize detransitioners and is interacting with groups and individuals that have gone public with their detransition stories.

CP contacted the Endocrine Society to ask whether the organization was backing any research on or offering any support to detransitioners, and how their guidelines are adhered to in clinical practice, and if they take a position on the promotion of surgery as the best option in light of how it was marketed to Fitz. No one was available to speak and we were referred to their guidelines.

Dealing with regret, fighting for hope

“I wish I would have been taught to accept myself. A lot of this [transgender ideology] is a weird, inside-out head game of discovering your ‘true self.’ But it really ends up destroying yourself,” he said, when asked what would have helped him not go down this route in the first place.

“I wish I had learned that there was nothing wrong with being an effeminate boy, that it didn’t make me a woman,” he said, adding that same-sex attraction itself is not harmful, and that medical and surgical interventions are not the solution to psychosocial problems or mental illness.

When he sees opposition to transgender medicine, he often encounters outrage about the pathway to sterilization that the combination of chemical puberty suppression and cross-sex hormones creates in gender-nonconforming youth.

While that is a legitimate issue, Fitz implores people not to forget the myriad of medical harms that result from the gruesome surgeries that are not discussed as often.

“I have scars on my genitals now. I am missing some of my genitals. I have phantom pain. I have a chemical dependence on a regulated drug made by a private corporation,” Fitz said.

“I feel like I’m pretty much f—–. I wish that I could just go buy some land and farm and leave the world behind. But I can’t. Because of all this. It’s such an unnecessary mess. It didn’t get me anywhere.

“If you’re not satisfied with the result of these treatments and surgeries, the medical community will abandon you,” he said.

“And nobody will know what to do with you because they refuse to research us and they refuse to publish information on what our needs are,” he said of detransitioning people.

What compounded his confusion for so long was the atmosphere of the city, with gay rainbow and trans pink and blue-striped flags flying everywhere as people saunter around in the streets sporting “they/them” pronoun buttons.

Fitz believes he looks a little better after having had the mastectomy though he still experiences numbness in his chest from the operation.

“I’ve been told I can get testicle implants to look even better but that wouldn’t affect how I feel or function. I’d still have the phantom pain because you need the nerves to be communicating with the organ that is missing. I’d still have the sexual disruptions and dependence on pharmaceuticals,” he said.

His attorney had to work extra hard to get his sex markers changed back to the original on his legal documents. Detransitioning his identification papers has presented more hurdles than switching them to opposite sex markers.

“I actually had to have a legal battle to restore my birth certificate. Some of the other documents were tricky at some points too,” Fitz said.

“I’m willing to talk to anybody who seriously seems interested in caring. I’ve talked to several journalists. Most of them don’t end up publishing. I never know why.”

He concluded: “I hope for a medical breakthrough to restore my wrongful amputation, to help me look and feel whole again, and to put pharmaceuticals behind me. I write to researchers working to bioprint regenerated testes in the lab, to let them know people like me exist, and I donate to their efforts. I write to surgeons performing penile transplants, to ask that they explore testicle transplants. And I meditate on restoration by means beyond science, including miracles.”

Follow Brandon Showalter on Facebook: BrandonMarkShowalterFollow Brandon Showalter on Twitter: @BrandonMS

Stolen Children


I have reprinted this article from the Christian Post. I have to get information from Christian sources because every single media outlet on the Left has joined the corporate eugenicists in promoting the poisoning and mutilation of misfits with sex problems and personality disorders.

‘I’ve lost two kids to the trans cult, I want them back’: An anguished mom shares her journey

By Brandon Showalter, CP Reporter

Lynn Meagher, mom of 3 kids, two of whom identify as transgender. | Photo: Courtesy of Lynn Meagher

In December, a therapist told a tormented Lynn Meagher that she should practice self-care, have a support network, and go to the emergency room if she wanted to kill herself.

The counselor then proceeded to make her feel guilty for supposedly being a judgmental person and essentially blamed her for her woes.

This harsh therapy session cost Meagher

The Christian Post connected with the Seattle-area mom in January when she was in Washington, D.C., and followed up with a subsequent Skype interview. She is sharing her personal journey and experiences with CP because the public does not know what parents endure. The prevailing narrative coming out of purportedly mainstream media outlets uncritically promotes gender transition and everything that comes with it, including parents who are celebrating their child’s new identity as the opposite sex.

This is her story.

Crushed beyond belief, Meagher went home and spent several days bedridden, nearly paralyzed with heartache.

At the recommendation of a friend, she had gone in to see this particular counselor for help in processing her confusion and sadness after her 23-year-old daughter, Emily (not her real name) informed her that she no longer wanted to be in a relationship and asked that she not try to contact her. Emily believed she was transgender and had changed her name to Evan, began taking testosterone, and was going through life as though she was a man.

Emily is the second of Meagher’s children to identify as transgender.

In 2003, Meagher’s son, Daniel (not his real name), who is now 36 and has legally changed his name to Daniella, came home on leave from the Navy at Christmas and announced he had always wanted to be a woman. Approximately two years later he traveled to Thailand and had his genitals amputated, got breast implants, and had his Adam’s apple shaved down, which is called a chondrolaryngoplasty. Daniel was ultimately kicked out of the military because it was said that he had a personality disorder. Meagher also has a third child, a daughter, Anna (not her real name), who is 22.

Meagher is using her real name in this article and not a pseudonym — as others with similar stories have done — because she feels she must be courageous given the current state of affairs. Because her children are not minors, she faces no potential legal repercussions as has been the case in several jurisdictions around the country when parents refuse to go along with their children’s self-determined “gender identity” and the accompanying therapies, medical practices and surgical interventions.

“The reason I am choosing to speak publicly is because I want people to be aware of the grief and loss that many parents experience. I have talked with many parents who describe their lives as a horror film. Watching your child struggle is one thing. Watching them reject their body, insist they are now a different person, a different sex, demand hormone treatments and a new identity, it’s unbelievably difficult,” Meagher said in a February interview.

“Add to that the fact that it’s nearly impossible to get help either for yourself or your child that’s not transgender-affirming, and help your child to actually sort out their issues, and parents are isolated in this grief.”

Daniel becomes Daniella

Meagher lost contact with her son for nearly a decade after he came out as transgender. She reconnected with him in 2013, which was a struggle because she didn’t feel she could call him “she” or a woman, and use his preferred female name while remaining true to her beliefs — particularly that sex cannot be changed and no amount of cosmetic surgery can alter biology.

“I did the best I could to have a relationship with him where I just loved him for himself, and was hoping that we could just disagree on what we disagreed with and love each other anyway,” Meagher said.

They managed a workable relationship until the spring of 2016 when he asked her a “litmus test” type of question about a pending bill in the state related to whether bathrooms and other single-sex intimate spaces should be opened on the basis of “gender identity.” When she didn’t answer the way he wanted, he wrote her out of his life, she explained.

Meagher only saw her son one time after the 2016 presidential election. It was at a coffee shop where he called her a “fascist” several times. He had met her to ask if he could obtain a copy of her birth certificate. Meagher was born in Canada and he was exploring the possibility of moving there in light of Donald Trump winning.

“I didn’t even want to discuss these issues with him. I felt like he was allowed to believe what he wanted to believe and be who he was but I wasn’t allowed the same thing, to be who I had always been. I wasn’t allowed to be me. I had to change what I believed in order to be acceptable to him,” Meagher said.

The mother of three describes herself as a Bible-believing Christian with conservative-leaning political views.

Daniel started telling other family members and siblings what a horrible person Meagher was. Whenever he was around he would manage to control the family dynamics in order to forbid her from being present. She missed out on family events like her daughter’s graduation, holidays and birthdays. To Meagher’s bewilderment, somehow he was able to manipulate everyone, ensuring that she was always excluded. The only times Meagher could see her daughters was when he wasn’t around.

Meagher and her husband got divorced in 2015. Emily presently lives with her dad, Meagher’s ex-husband.

Becoming trans has not helped her son, she maintained.

Although he is “extremely brilliant” he remains unemployed and has never been able to hold a steady job, she told CP. “And he’s pretty unhappy, he has a lot of anxiety. He’s basically one break-up with his partner — who is also a trans-identified male — away from being homeless. If that relationship were to break up I really don’t know what he would do because he doesn’t have gainful employment.

“He doesn’t have a vagina. He has a wound,” a physical and a psychological one, she said.

How Emily became Evan

Emily, who is now 24, is also a brilliant, “really, really bright” person, Meagher said of her daughter.

“She’s extremely gifted, artistic. She can write, she can draw. Musically, she can pick up any instrument and play it. She’s got all these gifts.”

But middle and high school was a struggle for her and she struggled to fit in with her peers, “like a lot of bright kids do.”

When she was 15 and 16, it was particularly bad as she dealt with depression and was self-harming by cutting herself.

Meagher never saw any sign of gender confusion in her daughter. For a season she came out of her room dressed in men’s clothes. But when she inquired why she was dressing like a man, Emily told her the clothes were simply more comfortable. During that same season, she would often emerge from her room looking different, wearing makeup and a variety of hairstyles. Meagher attributed this to her daughter’s extensive creativity. Emily at one point wanted to be a special effects make-up artist.

“I used to joke that every day was Halloween because she’d come out looking different every day,” she said, chuckling. “I didn’t say anything about it except ‘Hey, how are ya?'”

Soon enough she was wearing girls’ clothes again.

June 10, 2018, was the last time Meagher saw Emily, and when they were together her daughter had on a skirt and “looked pretty.”

“We went out for a really nice dinner, had a good time, she told me she loved me, and then I dropped her off at her dad’s house,” Meagher recounted.

Meagher then left the country and spent several weeks in Liberia. When she returned she texted Emily and received either brush-off replies or got no response at all. Meagher started becoming concerned, wondering why Emily was avoiding her and started intuiting that something was wrong but didn’t know what it was. As time went by and the pattern of Emily saying, “I’m sorry, I’m busy” continued, her worries mounted.

In October, Meagher found out Emily had legally changed her name to Evan. She then managed to get her on the phone and heard her voice for the first time in over three months.

“It was deep. It was not her voice,” Meagher lamented.

Emily did not know her mother had found out about the name change and when Meagher heard her voice she knew she was on testosterone. When she asked her what was going on with her voice, Emily told her she had a cold. A few days later, Meagher called her workplace and asked to speak with Evan, and was informed that “he” was not there at the moment and was asked if she wanted to leave “him” a message.

“And then I knew for absolute sure that she was living as a male person … and that was pretty devastating,” Meagher said.

“I felt I was living in a dream, a nightmare,” she added, thinking to herself, “Is this really happening? What is going on?”

She could talk to no one about this, as her siblings and father were going along with it to varying degrees and were supportive of Emily’s transition.

“I can’t even describe what it’s like to see your own child’s face with the opposite gender superimposed on it. It’s just … I can’t even describe it. It’s really hard. They still look like your child but kind of not. It’s like they are still there but are behind this gender thing,” Meagher said.

She tried not to think about it, but couldn’t help but wonder as she lied awake at night thinking about what Emily would look like with a bearded face and a masculine haircut. On one such night soon after that phone call, Meagher realized she would likely never hear her daughter’s voice again.

“Testosterone has permanent effects,” she explained, “and one of the effects is that it deepens the voice and often that is permanent even if you go off of it. Your voice is never going to be the same again.”

Growth of body and facial hair is another such permanent effect.

“It hit me then and it still hits me a lot that I’m never going to hear her voice again. And a lot of times I’ll close my eyes and try to remember what her pre-testosterone voice sounds like. Because I’m really afraid that I’m going to forget what her voice sounds like and I’m pretty sure I’m never going to hear it again,” she said.

“And that makes me unbelievably sad.”

Another loss she has felt acutely is her daughter’s rejection of her own name. If she was to call her by her given name, “Emily,” that is now considered “dead-naming,” which transgender activists say is a form of psychological abuse.

“So now, her name that we gave her is now something she considers hateful,” she said.

Emily soon also changed her phone number, so Meagher sent her an email telling her that she wanted to be in her life and that she loved her.

A devastating letter in the mail

A week later when Meagher went to retrieve the mail, she found a letter from Emily waiting for her in the mailbox, printed on computer paper. The note was five brief sentences.

To Mom:

This is difficult to write but I feel the time is right to do it. I don’t believe it is good or healthy for me to maintain our relationship. I will not be initiating further contact with you and ask that you respect my wish for no further contact. Please avoid attempting to get in touch with me through phone, social media, in-person contact, or through third parties like Anna, Dad, or family friends. I wish you well and hope you find peace and happiness in your future.


Upon reading it Meagher froze, and it was as though someone had stomped on her heart.

“It was like the bottom fell out of the world,” she elaborated.

A friend came over and Meagher fell apart.

“So she has a new name and a new voice. But the other thing we have is this new relationship now which is that we don’t have a relationship anymore,” Meagher said.

Emily knows her mom disagrees with transgender ideology, disagreement Meagher senses Emily considers as disapproval of her. But that’s such a misunderstanding of how she feels, Meagher stressed.

“It’s not that I don’t approve, it’s that I just don’t think transing herself is going to solve her problems. And I know this is not going to bring happiness into her life. This is going to bring hardship, a lifetime of medical treatments. I know transitioning is an empty promise.”

Meagher knows where her daughter works and lives but that could soon change and then she won’t have any knowledge of her whereabouts or how she’s doing. She is fairly sure her daughter is saving money to have her breasts removed.

“I especially don’t want to see her get a mastectomy and stay on testosterone. This is going to be a heavy, heavy chain to put around her neck for the rest of her life. For her to have to wear that … it just grieves me more than I have words for. It’s a grief that I just can’t tell you how hard it is,” she said.

“It’s almost worse than a death because she’s alive but not with me at all.”

Five days of torture, ‘a unique kind of hell’

Days after receiving the letter she was “overwhelmingly, excruciatingly upset,” she said, “in a kind of indescribable grief-shock.”

It was then when she visited the counselor who shamed her for being such a supposedly awful, uncaring person. After that appointment, she went home, climbed into bed, and didn’t get up for five days.

“You know how when you have the flu, and you don’t take a bath, you don’t eat, and night turns into day and it doesn’t matter, you just lay in bed and feel sick all day? I literally was in bed sobbing nonstop for five days. And the only thing I could think about was that I wish I didn’t have to stay alive anymore because I could not imagine how I could ever be happy again or how the world could go on with this being the reality, with my daughter not wanting to be my daughter anymore,” Meagher said.

During those five days, memories of Emily’s childhood returned. She thought about all the fun they had on road trips, riding horses, and swimming at the pool during the summers.

“All those cherished moments of her life, they kept going through my head. And I just couldn’t believe that all of that was over. That she really didn’t want to be my daughter,” she said.

She knew of no childhood trauma that could have led Emily to think she needed to escape her pain and attempt to become the opposite sex. And she considers her daughter’s upbringing to be relatively normal with the usual ups and downs.

Afraid she would find a way to commit suicide, Meagher made another appointment with another counselor.

When she walked into the second counselor’s office she noticed the therapist appeared to be very worried. Indeed she was as she told Meagher to phone a friend and arrange to have someone stay with her or she was going to have to go to the psychiatric hospital immediately. Those were her only choices and she insisted Meagher must not be alone.

Meagher subsequently made an appointment with a medical doctor and soon began taking antidepressants. Her friends were worried about her too. Many would come over to her house and sit on the bed with her as she cried.

“They would text me, they would call me. I had one friend who came over every single day, took me out for walks, took me out to eat, took me out for motorcycle rides. Anything to get me out of the house,” she said.

She would often try to cheer herself up when friends would come over but when they left she would collapse and cry some more.

“I can’t imagine feeling worse than that. Any worse than that it would be dead. It was torture,” she said.

“I couldn’t go to church, I couldn’t worship, couldn’t pray or read the Bible. I couldn’t believe that God was letting this happen to me. And I’ve never felt that way about Him. I’d never felt so angry at Him. I was like, ‘How and why? I don’t understand this,’ and ‘What have I ever done to deserve this kind of pain?'”

The experience of losing her children has been a “unique kind of hell,” she told CP, adding that she still can’t understand any of it.

After weeks of not being able to leave the house, she finally mustered up the courage to go to church again. But she ended up sitting in the back row weeping throughout the service.

“I couldn’t sing. I couldn’t make my voice say those words. I couldn’t do it,” she said.

As she cried, fellow parishioners would come and sit next to her and hold her. Then she would go home and cry some more. How long does processing grief take when there appears to be no end to it, she has often wondered.

Meagher has some hope her daughter will desist to her biological sex and realize there is nothing wrong with her body. But she admitted she has no idea if or when that will happen. And she has no idea what she might yet have to watch or hear about in relation to her daughter’s suffering in the meantime. The guilt she feels that her parenting was so inadequate such that two of her children came to believe they were the opposite sex has been “crippling” at times, she noted.

“I have over and over replayed angry words, failings, things I could have done better or differently. I could have been a better listener, I could have been different or better. But I did the best I could. I’m certainly not any kind of a superhero person. I’m just a mom,” Meagher said.

“I did torture myself for quite a while thinking that I had done something that had made my child go drastically wrong. That God had given me this beautiful baby and there was nothing wrong with her and by the time she was with me through her childhood she was all messed up and that it was probably my fault.”

Meagher no longer believes that is true but does think Emily blames her for many things.

“I’m grieving because I’ve lost her. And every hope I’ve had for having a relationship that I wanted to have with her and watching her grow into a young lady. … I’m just devastated because she’s hurting herself and I can’t help her. There’s nothing I can do,” she mourned.

“She’s under the influence of people that she has met online. She’s under the influence of a cult that is teaching her that her body is not OK, that the only way she can solve her pain is to take hormones and get surgery, and that her family is the problem. That I’m her problem.”

While some are reluctant to refer to transgenderism as a “cult,” per se, Meagher has no qualms labeling it as such.

“There’s not a lot you can do when someone is under the influence of cult thinking or to reason with them or change their thoughts, because I know she really believes this now,” she said.

Her son does too.

“I think one of the things that has harmed my son the most is that he no longer has to take responsibility for anything in his life,” she said.

She told him on one occasion that he was really smart, had a lot of marketable skills, and urged him to find a job. Before he broke off all contact she called him one day and he told her he was bored so he had written a web browser which was fully functional.

“This is a smart kid. But he’s never held a job,” Meagher said.

He told her: “Nobody will hire trans people.”

“Well, especially trans people who don’t apply for jobs,” Meagher observed.

“He doesn’t have to try to get a job, he doesn’t have to live as an adult, to get along with people because anybody who doesn’t get along with him, it is because they’re mean to him because he’s trans. It’s not because of anything he did. So he has morphed himself into a white middle-class male to a victimized minority. And so now nothing is his fault.”

Her other daughter, Anna, has never shown signs of identifying as transgender, but fully supports her sister’s transition, believes in the ideology, and has referred to Emily as “my brother” in her mother’s presence.

“I think if she had to choose between her siblings and me I would not win. I’m on probation. So far, I still have a relationship with her but I don’t know how long it’s going to last. I could lose that too,” Meagher said.

“My relationship with my kids is about as bad as it can get.”

A glimmer of hope, newfound allies, and friends

Even as her familial relationships have been wrecked, Meagher is encouraged that the tide seems to be starting to turn as more people awaken to the documented horrors inherent in transgender medicine, such as healthy 13-year-old girls undergoing mastectomies and cross-sex hormones being given to young children through an NIH-funded research grant.

Venice Allan, Meagher, and Posie Parker (left to right) in Washington, D.C. in January. | Photo: Courtesy of Lynn Meagher

And she now has a cadre of new allies accompanying her on the journey, friends she did not expect to make given profound differences in their political views.

Earlier this year she traveled to Washington, D.C., to take part in several days of action with a few British women’s rights campaigners who flew across the Atlantic to speak to legislators and collaborate with American women from the Women’s Liberation Front, a radical feminist organization that is actively fighting gender identity ideology and resisting trans activism.

Among those present were Kellie-Jay Keen-Minshull — who goes by the name Posie Parker — of Standing for Women, Venice Allan of We Need to Talk, and Julia Long, a lesbian feminist academic who is now writing a book on transgenderism.

Parker, Allan, and Long have been at the forefront of resisting transactivism in England amid intensifying debate in their country as the government considers revising the Gender Recognition Act to allow persons to merely self-identify their gender without any medical documentation showing that they’ve undergone a surgical procedure of some kind.

“I got lots of Posie hugs and lots of Venice hugs. I got lots of hugs,” Meagher said, chuckling and smiling big. While in the nation’s capital she was able to share her story with the British activists and other moms who are in similar predicaments. Meagher credits Parker, Allan, Long, the women of WoLF, and many others she met for making her even braver.

The feminists have understood her and cared for her in a way that has surprised her.

“When I would meet with these women and share my story with them they would just hold me and say, ‘I’m so sorry,'” Meagher recounted.

As part of their activities on Capitol Hill, she attended a Jan. 28 panel discussion at the Heritage Foundation hosted by scholar Ryan Anderson, who has written extensively on transgenderism and the harms transgender ideology causes.

Although Heritage is a politically conservative think tank, the panelists were entirely left-wing and feminist voices, including Julia Beck, a lesbian feminist who was kicked off the Baltimore city mayor’s LGBTQ commission for “misgendering” and using male pronouns in reference to a male rapist. Beck’s remarks that day on the panel outlining how lesbians have been abused by trans-identified males and also explained how many young women are now being sterilized and surgically maimed for not complying with sex stereotypes moved many in the audience to tears, including Meagher.

The two had met and gotten acquainted before the event and after it concluded they found each other and hugged.

“We were just holding each other crying and saying, ‘I love you, I love you so much,'” Meagher said, remembering the moment.

“Julia looked at me and she said: ‘I did that for you. The whole time I was sitting there I was thinking of you,'” she recalled, grateful.

The feminists possess a deep understanding of how grievous this is, Meagher continued.

“My friends from home, they care about me. They think this is all really bad, really sad. But they don’t get how bad it is. They’re not grieved about it enough to do anything about it. They don’t get that this is a national emergency. They’re not stirred to that even though they’re watching this happen to me. I think they just don’t know what to do. If they knew what to do they’d do it. But it’s not causing them pain.”

By contrast, most of the lesbians and feminists she met have known that pain in concrete ways, she said, and because of that, they can easily relate.

“They understand my grief, abandonment, and betrayal in a way that my Christian friends, who, though they support me and are wonderful in so many ways and I’m definitely not slamming them as uncaring because they do care, don’t. So I was finding myself in solidarity with these rad fems and lesbians and it was actually pretty powerful.”

A mother she met and conversed with in Washington, D.C., gave her a jar of homemade orange marmalade, something she said she started making years ago to turn her own bitterness into something sweet. She encouraged Meagher to find a way to do something like that.

Buoyed by that advice, Meagher now has dreams of creating a retreat center of some kind where parents who have suffered from this can come together to talk and recover from the trauma of losing their children to transgender medicalization and identities, something she believes is an assignment from God.

“The bottom line is that I’ve lost two kids to the trans ‘cult.’ I want them back. This ideology ruins and corrupts everything it touches. We can’t compromise or give an inch to it. And I’m willing to do whatever I can, and talk to and work with whoever will listen to me and help me,” Meagher said. “And I don’t hate my children, as complete strangers and transgender activists will say. Because I don’t affirm them in this and that, I’m supposedly contributing to their potential suicides. No, I love them with all my heart. I just can’t affirm this lie.”

“This absolutely is a national emergency. Somehow, we’ve got to stop this,” she reiterated.

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