Shortly after my son returned to college for the next year, he called me. I thought at the start it would be a normal call, as we did all the time. It was at first, then he said that he “had something important to tell me”. I let him speak. It turns out that he “is trans”, and “a woman”, and, worse of all, had been taking “hrt” for over a year at that point. I was devastated.

[...]

I did not confront my son about this until spring break, when I first met his “boyfriend”. “He” was maybe 5’5” tall at the most, with an extremely feminine face. He looked, by all means, like nothing different than a butch lesbian bodybuilder. I realized then that this “man” had a waist-to-hip ratio of maybe 0.71 generously, something that no “biological” man could ever have. That’s when I realized the truth. My son’s “boyfriend” was trans-man, aka a woman, and had probably been the cause of my own son’s confusion as to his gender. I was terrified. After lunch, I went back home and researched as much as I could. I reevaluated everything I knew about this “boyfriend” and looked up “his” parents on my favorite social media site, Facebook, which I have used for many years and am extremely satisfied with, although now it is sadly infested with AI, despite its general high utility. I contacted them and they confirmed my worst fears. They thanked me for the update on their daughter and agreed that it was likely that she had groomed my son into the trans cult. They apologized, but it was not their fault.

[...]

My son is still in contact with me, albeit less. He lives with his trans-identified girlfriend at this point, and they recently got engaged. I don’t think I can survive seeing my son walking down the aisle at his wedding in a dress, to a woman in a suit at the altar waiting for him, parentless herself, as if she were a man.