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When I was a kid, my family had a set of rotadraw circles that fascinated me. These were circular plastic stencils. This process took concentration and careful alignment. Slowly, the underlying drawing was being built, but you would not be able to recognize it until you completed the task and lifted the stencil off to reveal it.
The anticipation was agony. It was brilliant. Just over a year ago, our then year-old son announced to my husband and I that he thought he might be trans.
As my other essay described, this was not just totally out-of-the-blue, but totally out-of-character. As this process plays out, parents are filling in the stencils, shifting the circle, and following the guidelines. Literally β this is how mature parents are designed to work.
Life has taught us to look before we leap. Years of observation and self-reflection have revealed to us that humans sometimes want things or do things that are short-sighted and harmful to ourselves and others. A little bit of time, a deep breath, a small moment away to stop and think and gather more information can prevent a lot of errors. But teenagers are not capable of this. They lack the ability to accurately estimate risk. They are impulsive. They misread social cues. They can be aggressive.
Their brains are literally under construction at this point. These trans-identified kids are prematurely lifting off their rotadraw stencil, declaring that they are absolutely certain they know what the final design should be, and demanding the permanent markers, scissors and glue to form it the way they think some intangible gender spirit tells them it should be.