I Watched Transgenderism Ruin My Friends' Lives

When discussing transgenderism, the focus often centers on the medical processes and their consequences, such as cross-sex hormones, puberty blockers, and the mental health challenges that can arise. However, the narrative rarely addresses the experiences of those who knew individuals before they transitioned.

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At 14, I had numerous friends who have since transitioned over the past decade. At that time, I was unaware of the impending changes that would affect their lives. Many of my peers identified as bisexual or explored their sexual identities in a typical teenage manner, often without serious consideration of the implications.

Growing up in a suburban Midwest community, we were a group of middle-class kids, many from divorced families. We spent our time playing video games, attending school events, and sharing experiences typical of adolescence. Our friendships were built on shared interests, and we navigated the complexities of teenage life together.

However, as I reflect on those years, I find myself increasingly concerned about the changes that have taken place among my friends. Most of them now identify as transgender or nonbinary, rejecting their biological identities in favor of new labels that align with their feelings of victimhood. The boys who once enjoyed sports and jokes, and the girls who were creative and friendly, have transformed into individuals who claim their biological traits are irrelevant.

This shift coincided with a rise in substance use and self-diagnosed mental health issues. Conversations that once revolved around typical teenage concerns evolved into discussions about gender identity and sexual orientation. Some friends began using gender-neutral pronouns, while others pursued medical interventions, including hormone treatments and surgeries.

I have come to believe that many of my friends were not born in the wrong bodies but were instead influenced by societal pressures and ideologies that misinterpret their feelings. They were simply kids who felt different, and the narrative pushed by some adults convinced them that these feelings indicated a need for transition.

Many have changed their names, abandoning the ones given to them at birth. The term "dead name" has become prevalent, and using a person's original name is often viewed as offensive. This shift has led to a significant rift between me and my former friends, particularly as I have embraced my Christian faith and conservative values.

The aftermath of these transitions has been troubling. My friends have faced mental health crises, addiction, and a rejection of their previous beliefs. I have become an outcast in their eyes, primarily due to my political and religious views.

Reflecting on the past, I wish my friends had been shielded from the ideologies that led them to believe they needed to change. The narrative that promotes acceptance of all identities can sometimes obscure the potential harm it may cause to vulnerable individuals. I remember the beauty of our friendships before these changes occurred and hope that future generations can avoid similar paths.

Brooke Brandtjen is a writer and journalist from Wisconsin who focuses primarily on culture, politics, and religion. She is extremely passionate about the arts and history, and is honored to write for a variety of distinguished publications.