The unmitigated grooming of our children by the gender-identity industry.
We cried, “We know them! We’ve been with them, watched them, loved them their whole lives!”
Those who should know better, those to whom we trustingly handed our children, those who our society has deemed as trustworthy authorities, told our children otherwise, and by so doing, planted a seed of distrust. Distrust for the one person who would die for them, the same one who gave life to them. They told us that they know our children better than we do, and sadly, some of us believed it. They told our children that it was OK, even good, to reject us, as they convinced them that we were the ones rejecting them. They told our children to leave us, that they would support them and love them for who they REALLY are. Our children were told we could never understand, and worse, that we hate who they really are. These are just a few of the lies they told. All behind closed doors. All away from our eyes and ears. In secret. Then they led everyone to believe our children left because we didn’t want them, didn’t care for them, didn’t love them.
Like the pied piper who led the children away from their parents, so did the unethical school, medical, and therapy professionals lead our children away, with the false promise of a solution to all of their woes. Our children happily marched to the beat of this tune rejoicing, with each step, further away from who they really were. Their dislike of themselves was so intense, and came upon them, like an infection. Our children were schooled in this self-hatred by all the messages plugged into their heads. They were like soldiers programmed with disappointment, and resentment and desperate despair; they were convinced of the value of their own destruction. We could see that this was not a path to happiness. We knew this, because we are their mothers.
Then friends and family joined in the condemnation, giving us the side eye as if to say, “I didn’t know you were such a bigot.” In a push/pull bind of wanting to be open, yet feeling apprehensive, we are considered, by too many, intolerant due to our reluctance to ignore our gut instinct. An instinct which senses danger to our children, that is ingrained in our biology. An instinct which says, “This is not right. Something is wrong.” These friends and family say all of this sadness and confusion is certainly our fault. They have been programmed too.
We exclaim, “We know they are still in there!” We wait for them to wake up. We fight the wretched feeling of being trapped into watching this living nightmare, while feeling powerless to stop its momentum. We don’t hope, because hoping makes us contemplate the all too painful absence of the children we know are still there, hiding inside, taken away from our protection and counsel. We still hope, because we can’t stop. We know things about our children, that they don’t even know themselves, things only we know. This is the familiarity of a mother. “They still need us! They are our children!” No one, no one can love them more than we do. To see them living, yet not living; this is the worst kind of torture for a mother.
We mothers connect with each other through the knowledge and the pain and the fear. All differences are muted, accepted, ignored. Nothing else matters as much as this. Through our joining of hands we have seen the other as us. We have seen through the other. We understand each other as no one else does. We thought we were alone, wandering, distraught, until we found one another and found a glimmer of hope. We hear each other, listen to each other, sit and be with each other through the darkness. We prod and poke our brains looking for the mistakes we made. “If only we hadn’t allowed this, or said that.” We remind each other that we couldn’t have foreseen this. It was a sneak attack. These predators are brilliant, strategic and well funded. They’ve planned and executed this diabolical scheme with precision. They are closing in on us.
We circle and fiercely protect our babies like a herd of matron elephants, crossing the plains through the lions, hyenas and crocodiles. We watch in horror as they capture our children; we are unable to look away. Our hearts ache so much it’s indescribable. We leave our arms open wide, yearning for connection, as if to say, “We will catch you. We are ready. We are here waiting, hoping for you. Forever.”
We feel betrayed--by everyone. They’ve made us the enemy and weaponized our children against us. It’s written in the laws and policies, so it must be true. Policies and bills that are passed in the night, line by line, so we can’t recognize the full horror in what they are really trying to do. They use these laws to cut off our ability to do what we are meant to do; we are meant to parent our children. They are trying to take away our right to protect our children for their own aims, for their own profit.
We fight in the shadows because we’ve been forced to. We yearn to scream loudly, the injustice of it all, to everyone, who has ears and can hear, but most of us are relegated to whispers. The threat of the complete loss of our children or their continued exposure to harm is held over us. We do what we can. There is no other choice. The stakes are too high so we organize, we fight, we become full of rage and we cry, brush ourselves off and fight some more. We work feverishly, on our projects, to expose what is really happening. Nothing will mobilize a mother more than a threat to her child. Many of us do this in secret. Piece by piece we do what we can. We are the secret army. We fight back. We are the mothers.
We will help change this tide. As more children and families are affected, our army of mothers grows. We welcome each new member while simultaneously expressing our sympathy that they have become part of this waking nightmare. We join hands with fathers and many courageous others who are in this fight for their own equally valid reasons, the fight for our children’s lives, the fight for the reality of our sex and the import of what that means.
Now that we are aware of these predators, we teach others about them. We rejoice in those who are able to keep their children safe from the predator’s grasp. We grow in numbers, and we grow wiser and we take action. Together we are a mighty force and a formidable opponent. We have the determination, strength and love like our sister mothers, the elephants, who will brilliantly and tenaciously band together in the common goal of saving their babies. There is no stronger instinct, not a more powerful motivator, than the one to protect our children. We are the mothers. This is what we were made for. We won’t be erased and we will never give up. Not ever.