Until recently, I was a firm believer in what is broadly known as “transgender rights.” My conviction was unwavering: transwomen are women, transmen are men. I advocated for transgender individuals’ access to single-sex spaces based on their self-identified “gender,” including spaces like women’s restrooms, shelters, and prisons. Anyone questioning these beliefs was, in my view, either misinformed or blatantly transphobic.
There were moments when certain aspects of transgender activism made me slightly uneasy. The idea of self-identification as the primary criterion for transwomen competing in women’s sports raised concerns, but I dismissed them. These seemed minor issues compared to the widespread discrimination transgender people supposedly faced. Moreover, the alarming statistics about suicidal ideation among transgender youth fueled my sense of urgency in advocating for their rights.
My activism primarily took place online, on platforms like Twitter. In this digital sphere, I connected with like-minded individuals, both transgender and cisgender, who reinforced my belief in the paramount importance of “transgender rights.” This online community further solidified my stance.
Those who disagreed with my ideology were quickly dismissed – or rather, confronted online in terse, character-limited bursts. I wielded my PhD in clinical psychology as an intellectual weapon, despite my limited understanding of the scientific and psychological complexities of sex and gender. Often, the dissenters were women who argued that biological sex is immutable, and while everyone deserves respect and protection, one group’s rights (transgender individuals) should not infringe upon another’s (women).
When challenged to justify my belief that transwomen are women, I would assert the notion of individuals being “born in the wrong body” and the concept of “gendered brains,” claiming transwomen possessed male bodies but “female brains.” When asked to elaborate, I resorted to vague feelings and intuitions, lacking any scientific or operationalized terms. Further probing led to circular reasoning: some men feel like women, and only women can feel like women, therefore, some men are women. When pressed on how one “feels like a woman,” I’d fall back on my own subjective “feeling” as proof. At times, resorting to ad hominem attacks, I labeled women who disagreed as “bigots” stuck in outdated ideologies, dismissive of civil rights. As a final, seemingly unassailable point, I’d invoke my PhD. Conversation closed. Further reflection felt unnecessary. Federal law seemed to validate my position; history was clearly on my side. Instead of listening, I doubled down, my sense of righteousness growing with each online affirmation.
However, early this year, my perspective began to shift. In January, disturbing information surfaced regarding the alleged misconduct of a self-proclaimed transwoman known as “JY.” Initially known for filing human rights complaints against 16 Canadian women who refused to perform Brazilian waxes on male genitalia, JY was now accused of making predatory online comments targeting young girls. One alleged comment read, “Every single time I take that ferry there’s field trips with 10-12 year old girls on it… If a girl asks me for a pad or tampon and help on how to use it, if it’s her first time, what do I do?” A selfie purportedly of JY in a women’s restroom, with young girls visible in the background, also began circulating. Understandably, many women (and some men) voiced their concerns about JY’s behavior, only to be met with silencing and reprimand for referring to JY as male. On Twitter, users faced temporary and even permanent suspensions for “misgendering” JY, highlighting a disturbing trend: the “transgender rights” umbrella was effectively being used to suppress any discussion of JY’s actions. This blatant policing of language and dissent regarding JY’s case opened my eyes to a broader pattern. Women were being systematically silenced for simply stating their views.
While I remained committed to the idea that transgender individuals were a vulnerable population deserving of accommodation, the Twitter/JY situation created a small but significant crack in my previously impenetrable ideological armor. How could it be acceptable that those raising legitimate concerns about potentially harmful actions were the ones being punished?
Troubled, I reached out to Morgane Oger, a prominent figure in the Canadian transgender community and Vice President of the British Columbia NDP, the ruling provincial party. To my surprise, Oger offered to speak by phone. During our nearly hour-long conversation, Oger listened to my concerns and acknowledged that other women had also contacted her regarding JY’s behavior. Oger suggested that reporting these concerns to law enforcement would be unproductive without concrete, verifiable evidence. She encouraged me to seek out such evidence and contact her if I found anything. Based on our conversation, I felt Oger was genuinely concerned by the accusations against JY and was taking them seriously.
During our call, Oger mentioned a recent event at the Vancouver Public Library focusing on gender identity ideology and women’s rights. While I wasn’t present and couldn’t comment on the specifics, Oger’s description of the event resonated deeply: “It was like 1933 Berlin.”
My husband and children are Jewish. This analogy was deeply unsettling. The comparison to the prelude to one of history’s most horrific genocides, made by a prominent political figure, was jarring.
It was at that moment – being told that questioning gender identity ideology in defense of women’s rights was akin to the rise of Nazi Germany – that I had a profound “WTF?” moment. My perspective began to shift dramatically.
In the days that followed, I struggled with increasing cognitive dissonance, a concept described by Leon Festinger in his 1957 book, A Theory of Cognitive Dissonance. This theory highlights the human need for consistency between behaviors, thoughts, attitudes, and beliefs. How could a feminist advocating for women’s rights at a public library be equated to the beginnings of Hitler’s regime? It was an absurd and offensive comparison.
The fact that a political representative considered this comparison acceptable, and seemingly anticipated no backlash, was deeply revealing.
Further conflicting thoughts emerged. Was there any evidence suggesting transgender people faced imminent extermination, similar to vulnerable groups during the Holocaust? Clearly not.
Were transgender people, as a group, demonstrably more vulnerable than women? I found no data to support this assertion.
Was silencing women who state the biological reality that transwomen are not women (and transmen are not men) a justifiable punishment? Should referring to a self-identified transwoman as “he,” even unintentionally, warrant the online silencing of women – a vital tool for female communication and participation in public discourse? Absolutely not.
As these questions took root, I began to open myself to the perspectives of the women I had previously dismissed. I started to apply my professional training and conduct thorough research.
Given my background as a clinical psychologist, I was particularly interested in the healthcare community’s approach to gender dysphoric patients. I reviewed the American Psychological Association’s 2015 Guidelines for Psychological Practice With Transgender and Gender Nonconforming People. These guidelines emphasized the need for psychologists to “educate themselves about the many ways that cisgender privilege and anti-trans prejudice may be expressed,” including scrutinizing “how their language… may reinforce the gender binary in overt or subtle and unintentional ways.” The guidelines also suggested psychologists “may need to provide TGNC [transgender and gender nonconforming] people with information about TGNC identities, offering language to describe the discordance and confusion TGNC people may be experiencing.”
Next, I examined the Canadian Medical Association Journal’s (CMAJ) 2019 article, Management of Gender Dysphoria in Adolescents in Primary Care. The more I read, the more concerned I became. According to CMAJ guidelines, despite acknowledging that “the care of transgender youth is still a relatively young field, with a limited… body of research to inform care,” healthcare practitioners were encouraged to practice “affirmative care” and “avoid influencing the adolescent to move down a path they would not have chosen for themselves.”
Furthermore, clinical practice guidelines recommended hormonal suppression for youth experiencing gender dysphoria at “pubertal stage Tanner II,” which averages around 10.5 years for girls and 11.5 years for boys. While the recommended age for initiating cross-sex hormones was 16, the guidelines suggested it could benefit children as young as 13.5. This early hormone treatment was proposed because “many younger pubertal youth have been living in their affirmed gender for several years, and a prolonged delay of gender-affirming hormone therapy could potentially lead to negative mental health outcomes.” This recommendation was made despite acknowledging that hormone treatment at 16 could permanently impair future fertility, unless fertility preservation procedures like sperm or egg harvesting were undertaken. The authors conceded that “very few youth with gender dysphoria…[opt] for fertility preservation procedures.”
It’s hardly surprising that most teenagers, especially those as young as 13, initiating cross-sex hormones are not preoccupied with their fertility prospects at age 30. Given that the prefrontal cortex, responsible for weighing consequences, judgment, and impulse control, is not fully developed in adolescence, why would healthcare professionals permit teens to make such irreversible, life-altering decisions? How could this guidance not be considered malpractice?
Information concerning even younger children was equally alarming. An article published by the Center of Excellence for Transgender Health, “Health considerations for gender non-conforming children and transgender adolescents,” stated that despite typical 18-month-olds being able to follow only simple commands, expressing emotions through tantrums, and possessing limited vocabulary, “children as young as 18-months-old have articulated information about their gender identity and gender expression preferences.” The same article asserted, “Awareness of one’s gender identity does not require cognitive capacity acquired in adolescence.” This implied that a child’s cognitive development should not hinder considerations of medical transitioning. Regarding future fertility, the authors explained, “For youth whose pubertal process has been suspended in the earliest stages, followed by administration of gender-affirming hormones, development of mature sperm or eggs is unlikely at the present time.”
My review of various healthcare guidelines revealed a consistent underlying message: urgency is paramount when dealing with trans-identified individuals. Questioning the prevailing narrative is framed as endangering vulnerable lives. Affirmation is presented as the only ethical course, even if interventions carry severe, irreversible consequences like permanent infertility.
Like many women before me, I reached my ideological “peak.” Finally, after a long period of unquestioning acceptance, I shifted, moving away from gender identity ideology and onto what felt like firmer, more ethically sound ground. I was no longer willing to blindly “affirm” transgender identities at the expense of women’s rights. I rejected the notion that the desired outcome (transitioning a teen) justified the means (using fear-based tactics about suicide to pressure parents). I refused to see every transgender person as inherently fragile, incapable of withstanding scrutiny or questioning, and susceptible to harm from mere words. I was no longer willing to sacrifice truth and ethical considerations for the sake of political correctness.
Reflecting on my transformation from fervent trans activist/“ally” to a critic of gender identity ideology and legislation, I am struck by how easily I – a psychologist (now retired), ostensibly trained in understanding the human mind – became swept up in the “trans rights” movement, abandoning critical thinking, much like a new recruit in a cult. While hesitant to label trans activism a “cult,” I recognize disturbing parallels: the absolute intolerance of criticism; the silencing, smearing, and ostracization of those who question (labeled “transphobic” in this context); and the pressure on individuals (parents, professionals) to blindly accept the premise of being “born in the wrong body” and the necessity of medical interventions – puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones, surgeries – rather than psychological exploration. Similar to cult dynamics, gender identity ideology discourages independent thought, responding to requests for evidence and facts with platitudes, mantras, and fear-mongering, repeated ad nauseam until they become accepted as truth.
If I, with my professional background, could be so easily convinced of concepts like “lady brains,” it underscores the vulnerability of almost anyone to believe in the increasingly obvious absurdity of the “emperor’s new clothes” – to accept a blatant falsehood simply because it is asserted with enough conviction and repetition.
Alicia Hendley holds a PhD in clinical psychology from the University of Windsor, and worked as a psychologist at University of Waterloo’s Counselling Services. Dr. Hendley’s research and clinical interests include eating disorders and distorted body image, as well as mood and anxiety disorders. She is also an author of fiction, nonfiction, memoir, and poetry. Follow her on Twitter @AliciaMHendley.
