Matt Duron, police officer, writes on The Atlantic’s website about his gender creative son.
I’m a father. I signed on for the job with no strings attached, no caveats, no conditions. I can name every Disney Princess and her movie of origin. I’ve painted my son’s nails and rushed to remove it when he was afraid that he would get teased for wearing it. I didn’t want to remove it, I wanted to follow him around and stare down anybody who even thought about teasing him. I only removed it because he started to have a panic attack. It was his decision and if he wants to edit himself to feel safer, I’ll do it. Every time. No questions asked.
My wife started a blog about raising our son who is a girl at heart. At first, I didn’t really think anybody would read it. They did, and she started to get emails from parents who are raising a son like ours. My wife calls C.J. “gender creative.” Most people choose the more negative connotation and call him gender non-conforming or gender dysphoric.
Some of the emails she gets come from dads who are struggling. I feel bad for every single one of them. I’ve been there. I’ve struggled. A lot. But I’ve also evolved. A lot.
She’s gotten emails from more moms than I can count who are now raising an effeminate boy alone because the dad couldn’t deal. It pisses me off, but I know that it’s the reality. A lot of marriages don’t survive raising a gender-creative son who is, statistically speaking, most likely going to be gay or transgender as an adult. I wish I could to talk to those men. I wish I could be there for their kids.
That’s our restore your faith in humanity item for the day. Now back to discussing the church.