Like so many of the issues that preoccupy today’s advocates and activists, today’s world finds transgender ideology more comfortable to ignore. It’s all so complex. The mix of science and pseudoscience, the clash between personal liberty and the rights of others to disagree and not participate, the unpleasant details of “bottom surgeries” and other cosmetic alterations, and the laudable desire to live and let live — all conspire to make us turn away from the issue.
And yet: How many men and women, boys and girls have been caught up in a dubious social trend that has serious and permanent negative long-term consequences. To look away, to abdicate our responsibility to constructively engage on this issue, is, I believe, wrong.
Happily, an important new book — “Detrans: True Stories of Escaping the Gender Ideology Cult” (Regnery, $32.99) — helps us all look squarely at this new phenomenon. In it, journalist Mary Margaret Olohan gives voice to a growing population of people who have been swallowed up by the transgender industry but have had the courage to extricate themselves and start to build new lives — lives that rest on a healthy acceptance of the inescapable biological reality of their male or female sex.
“Detrans” are the “detransitioners.” They are individuals who have attempted to live as the opposite sex to one extent or another but have changed their minds. In a series of heartbreaking narratives, Olohan walks us through the intimate details of a class of people whose number and visibility have risen dramatically.
Unheard of just a few years ago but ubiquitous today on YouTube, Instagram, X, and Reddit, detransitioners are now making their presence felt. Many of them have turned to these platforms to warn others of the dangers and difficulties (and ultimate impossibility) of transitioning to the opposite sex.
They want to prevent vulnerable young people from believing the hype fed to them by a multibillion dollar gender industry that is more than happy to create permanent patients requiring a lifetime of hormonal manipulation and postoperative care. They also want to protect the young and vulnerable from the trans-fad so effectively promoted by influencers on social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok.
Most of the stories in the book are about girls and women. They’re part of the recent upsurge in adolescent females who have begun rejecting their female sex. There are common threads in these stories: gender dysphoria co-existing with other mental health disorders like anorexia and depression, and social media “friend groups” becoming affected at the same time. Turbulent family dynamics, powerful social influences, rapid-fire “diagnoses,” and slippery chutes into unproven and dangerous therapies repeat themselves story after tragic story.
It is disturbing to read about youngsters being medicalized on their first visit to an endocrinologist with drugs like Lupron, used off-label in these cases to halt puberty and, in boys, to effect chemical castration. (Lupron is used on-label to treat prostate cancer and castrate sex offenders.) It is also appalling to read about the surgeries for minors — mastectomies, penectomies, and the construction of (nonworking) facsimiles of sex organs.
What’s special about “Detrans” is the detailed intimacy of its narratives. Olohan has spent countless hours listening to her subjects. She relays her findings with sympathy. We ache for Chloe, for Helena, and for Prisha. They share their bitterness and sadness over the terrible things — infertility, for example — visited upon them when they were too young to know what they were giving up. Thanks to Olohan, we come to understand the difficulty of changing course once one has disrupted everything in his or her life and that of her family.
We also come to appreciate the terrible humiliation of having to admit you’ve made a grave mistake. Prisha tells of her wonder and amazement when her boyfriend’s toddler daughter calls her “Mommy,” even though Prisha was acting and dressing like a man. We see how that one moment opened Prisha’s heart and filled it with the weight of love and responsibility.
Mary Margaret Olohan’s “Detrans” takes us one important step closer to the day when today’s gender quackery will finally be rejected. Her fearless and empathetic reporting, the wide scope of her knowledge of the many interested parties at work, and especially her heartfelt portrayal of the victims make “Detrans” required reading. Required, that is, for all who take our social responsibilities seriously and seek to build a better world for the young and vulnerable.
