When my son was 3 years old, his favorite shoes were pink with rainbow . He liked to play dress up and wear grandma's hats. He asked for a barbie as a birthday present.

I didn't worry about it. I let him explore his childhood.

You know what else I didn't do? I didn't… pic.twitter.com/QTRv1ud1uF

— Randy the Savage (@reannadilley) April 12, 2023

When my son was 3 years old, his favorite shoes were pink with rainbow . He liked to play dress up and wear grandma’s hats. He asked for a barbie as a birthday present. I didn’t worry about it. I let him explore his childhood. You know what else I didn’t do?

I didn’t hyperventilate and assume he was somehow born in the wrong body. I didn’t make him a mad science experiment. I didn’t pump him full of hormones, mutilate his tiny growing body, or parade him around for attention from pedophile gender fetishists.

I didn’t permanently redirect the entire course of his natural life at an age he couldn’t possibly consent to such things. As a normal healthy parent I knew he was exploring new fascinating things with wonder and creative joy. He’s now in middle school and is every bit a healthy masculine boy. Because I didn’t force him to believe he wasn’t. And I didn’t have to coerce him into knowing he was. It is science. It is nature.

We have become an entirely unserious country for allowing and encouraging abuse of our children in the name of tolerance.