Get Ready To Hear A Lot About ‘Gender Confirmation Surgery’
Here’s something that nobody has ever been able to explain to me: If gender is nothing but a social construct, why would anybody need to get their genitals switched out for different ones? If I’m supposed to adjust my pronoun usage on a moment’s notice just because Bruce Jenner or Bradley Manning or the Wachowski Brothers say so, why do they need to cut off body parts that apparently don’t matter anyway? If a person with a penis can be a woman, why go through all that pain and suffering and considerable expense for new equipment that won’t work properly anyway?
Now our moral, ethical, and intellectual betters have finally come up with an answer. It’s not a “sex change” at all. It’s not “gender reassignment,” either. Now it’s “gender confirmation.”
As a way to condition the public into believing transgenderism is something other than a mental illness, the Left-wing media have coordinated to rid the (already untrue) phrase “sex reassignment surgery” with the Newspeak phrase, “gender confirmation surgery.”
The term is strategic. If the surgery is simply “confirming” one’s gender, then the implication is that transgenderism is no longer a mental illness: a man who believes he’s a woman is actually a woman, and a woman who believes she’s a man is actually a man.
The memo has gone out. This is now how the idea is going to be sold. These people are no longer “changing their sex” or “reassigning their gender.” Those outdated phrases implied that these folks used to be something different than what they are now. No, they’re merely confirming what they’ve known about themselves all along. Via the minor matter of, um, getting their junk chopped off.
Look, I tend to be libertarian about these sorts of things. If you really believe you were born in the wrong body, and you’re willing to spend the money and endure the sacrifice of “fixing” it, you have the right to do that. But I’m under no obligation to enable your delusions. The science is settled. Biology is not subject to your whims. You’re still a guy, guy.
If you’re so sure of who and what you are, why are you so desperate for my approval? Is your self-worth so fragile that it can be shattered with a pronoun?
I don’t say this out of hate. I don’t hate you. I’m just not going to lie for you. And unless you hate me, you’ll stop trying to coerce me into saying something I know isn’t true.
As they used to say in the old days, let your freak flag fly. But don’t expect me to march under it.