Throughout my life, I’ve held many titles: sales executive, parent, and spouse. But the one I’m now known for above all others – the one I’m most proud of – is Fighter.
As someone who fell for the lies of the LGBTQ movement – that all my problems would vanish if I underwent gender transition – I’ve dedicated my life to fighting for the protection of vulnerable children falling into the gender ideology trap.
Part of that fight included a recent appearance in Matt Walsh’s documentary, What Is A Woman?
Though I may have seemed confident and strong on camera, taking part in the documentary was the most challenging thing I have ever had to do in my life, and I’m serious.
On the day of the shoot, I even walked up the stairs at the hotel in New York, trying to avoid my children, so that I could call and cancel the interview. My daughter was on the fourth floor in the stairway, apparently realizing what I would do. Knowing that I would try to back out.
Arms folded, she looked like a 48 year old and at me as if I were 14! Eyes rolling, she grabbed my hand and rattled off one of my now old, irritating sayings. “You always tell me that anxiety is about being alive, and here you are; congrats, you are alive, Dad. Now turn around; you can do this. You made a promise. What is that going to say to me if you quit?”
“Aw…” I waved my hands and repeated the infamous phrase I used to tell myself all the time: “That’s too far; I get the point, Gooia Gelf, I was just getting my coat, I wasn’t going to cancel, geez Julia,”
“Oh, so now you have started to lie to your kids now, huh?”
We laughed, and this time she waited with me for the uber – and off I went.
That day included much more than just another peeling of my chest. The only thing that could make me go through with it was my children. During those three days, they parented me, lifting me with catchphrases and holding me accountable with love.
As the cameras rolled, I felt it inside; I knew I was about to lose it. Since all of this has happened, I have not lost it, shedding very few tears – very unlike me. Before all of this, I used to cry watching Hallmark commercials. On this day, though, I felt the emotion welling up and the connection I had with overcoming objections. As the interview concluded and I finished telling my story, I looked around the room, and a sense of victory came over me.
As a business salesperson and presenter, my whole life I have learned how to inflect my voice – to throw out the tone and passion mixed with invulnerability and smooth logic – to help people understand my message. Conveying a feeling is an art form, and I have studied it my entire life, watching faces as they change with each word and delivery given – whether it be a success or failure. Emotion is not a gray area; it’s black or white. Did you convey what you meant to convey?
“…. Did you move people to change their position? Did you make them feel, Kellie?” That’s what I asked myself.
One of the hardest things to do is to change an established viewpoint on a product. Changing one’s opinion on religious, cultish, or illiberal propaganda that’s threatening our democracy, our children’s health, and women, all deviously packaged as a civil right issue, is even harder. It’s dangerous work, but someone has got to do it.
The LGBTQ movement has too much power, and no one questions them. How have we allowed a generation of children to be mutilated because of it? They’re embraced as the white horse right now, doing no wrong, but the truth will come out. Parents are slowly waking up to the madness with which the media handles the subject, taking notice, for example, of New York Times writers discussing breast binders and the irreversible damage done to young women’s bodies with the divine righteousness of a Chinese footbinder.
On that day in New York, it all came together for me. The pain I had endured suddenly meant something remarkable; it gave me a weapon I have honed my entire life. It all brought me to that moment where I could help people understand that what we are doing to children is very wrong. The pain and loss gave me the perfect emotional ball to change people that day who needed to be changed.
As the cameras began to wind down, a sudden rush came over me, and I knew I had done it right; I had conveyed the emotions that were so deeply within me. As the camera lights turned off, I could no longer control it or hide from it, and I lost it. I burst into tears without warning. My hands covered my face like I was trying to push the tears back inside.
I had just delivered a speech of the most potent kind. A lesson that you not only believe in, but one you would die for. That was how I felt, and I hadn’t realized how important it was to me. At that moment, though, I realized.
I knew I could change people, but I didn’t know if I had the heart. I proved to myself on that day, however, that, indeed, I did have the heart. My three hearts were waiting for me back at the hotel room, unable to leave the room, knowing that I needed to see all three of them – and I did need the three that meant everything to me, in the same way your children mean everything to you.
What I learned from this experience is that human beings can be convinced of anything if rendered at the right time, the right way, and by the right people, and I am no exception.
Don’t believe me? Currently, society believes that a child confused about their gender and expressing suicidal ideation is a prime candidate for medical transition – that’s proof enough.
Scott Newgent is an author, activist and founder of trevoices.org, which advocates for the end of childhood gender transitioning.