Protecting your children: Media

You know we have enough difficulty protecting our children without big family media pushing a homosexual presence and agenda and trying to normalize the very dangerous and heartbreaking behaviors we want to shelter our kids from.

Disney has been pushing homosexuality for more than twenty-five years, now. They began with “Gay Day” back in 1991, and have gently, incrementally, been pushing the boundaries of propriety ever since.  It’s also an “open secret” that Disney has a big ol’ thick Gay “glass ceiling” in the company’s management, any more.

Disney used to be a wonderful, wholesome, educational family entertainment provider — now the “educational” component is NOT what most of us want for our children.

 

 

“If Daddy’s Gay, Am I?” — Protecting the Children, Part II

“If Daddy’s gay, then am I, too?” The girl asking the question was in her early teens, and the mother I heard the story from was caught off-guard, didn’t know how to respond.

The gay lobby still wants us to believe there is a biological cause for homosexuality, although no credible studies have verified it, yet. In fact, identical twin studies challenge the premise.

Moreover, there is a large effort underway to sexualize children at younger ages than before. I saw this in our local high school, fifteen years ago, and I”m seeing indicators on the internet of public promotions of homosexuality in billboards, public library story hours, and so on, now targeting young children.

For our teenagers, the question gets a bit trickier. The basis of the young girl’s question to her mother was that she was recognizing her dad’s homosexuality while also, simultaneously, recognizing that she loved her best friend, another girl. Does the one predicate the other? I suspect many in the gay community would encourage this young girl, at such a vulnerable point in her life, to see herself as lesbian and to embrace the identity.

The honest answer, however, is Probably not. We’ve lost sight, in our sophisticated, sexualized culture, of the fact that young girls develop very strong friendships during the early adolescent years. A hundred years and more ago, even up to the Second World War, if literature is to be taken as representative of the world it is set in, it was recognized that girls crush on teachers, on older girls, on best friends. You can think of Anne Shirley and Miss Stacey and Diana Barry. Rosamunde Pilcher writes of this during the years leading up to WWII, too, with several of her characters, primary and secondary.

I think boys go through something similar, only later – around the end of high school, or entering college. Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited is not about Charles Ryder and Sebastian Flyte’s homosexual relationship, whatever Hollywood’s latest incarnation wants you to believe. It is part of a time and place where physical affection between friends of the same sex was more open and — this is important – more innocent.  I remember interviews about the making of the miniseries, and Jeremy Irons (Charles Ryder) spoke of how a certain year in college marked the point where it became acceptable for young men to walk about arm in arm.  Another example is from the Lord of the Rings trilogy:  Frodo and Sam, or Pippin and Merry. This isn’t a sexual situation; it’s social.

These represent a love that is normal and nonsexual, a normal developmental phase that that prepares our hearts for other,  more mature loves a few years later. There is something insidiously evil about sexualizing these loves, about encouraging children to accept this phase as their identity; when young girls and boys act on these loves and they become sexualized, then our children can become trapped in behaviors and relationships that are toxic and even dangerous.

Again — talk to your children. Use story and movie characters, especially from older works (the earlier Canadian production of Anne of Green Gables, for instance) to point out how lovely and how good friendships are. Use them as an opening to discuss more delicate realities about dishonest sexualization and exploitation.

Protecting the Children – Part One

I’ve already spoken about one need of children, here, in regards to gay marriage. But there are other issues that we women, we mothers worry about, and after some hard consideration, I think it’s time to address them.

It was 1980. Early spring, one of those gorgeous days when I could put the windows up and let some fresh air blow into the house.  One of those days you dream about in January.  I was sitting in the rocker, cuddling my firstborn, when all of a sudden there was an explosion of profanity from the next-door back yard.  It was impossible, even with windows down, to miss what had happened:

My next-door neighbor was gay. He’d been married, his wife was absent, due to health issues that were never elaborated on, except that she was in full-time nursing care. He had a teenaged son and daughter. I liked George (another pseudonym) — cheerful, talented, creative, good-humored . . . and I liked the kids, too, although the boy seemed sullen at times and the girl was so shy I didn’t even know what her voice sounded like after almost a year of being neighbors.

The night before, George had had a party.  George, Jr. was screaming obscenities at his father because other gay men at that party had been hitting on him, and his dad had looked on and done nothing.  The friends mattered more.  He hadn’t protected his son from unwanted sexual advances.  All it would have taken would have been a good-natured, “Hey, if he doesn’t want to, leave him alone.” But evidently that was not what had happened. I couldn’t fathom it then, being so protected, myself, growing up, but it sounded as if George had actually found the whole thing perfectly acceptable.

George, Jr. was furious at his father. He was confronting his father with the strongest possible expressions of rage for a horrible breach of parental responsibility,  and with an ultimate betrayal — and George laughed.  He laughed at his son.

I told DH about it, when he came in for lunch. “Just keep quiet about it,” he told me. “Don’t say anything, not to anybody.”  I didn’t know, then, that DH had been seduced, himself.

This was at a time when an adult, even a parent, could be brought up before a judge for what was called moral turpitude.  I don’t know what would make that definition, any more; the courts more and more are favoring the gay parents in custody issues.  The protection of minor children from irresponsible and immoral behaviors is getting harder over the past few years.  Even 20 years ago, when I worked for a lawyer, today’s (im)moral climate wasn’t even on the radar.

Frankly? having girls, there was a limit to what I had to worry about. If I’d had any boys, I don’t know WHAT I would have done. Even then, you couldn’t change custody and visitation over what MIGHT happen; something had to have already happened before you could deprive a parent of custody or visitation rights. Now the definition of endangerment, in court, has become so watered down as to become very nearly meaningless.

One thing you can do — TALK TO YOUR KIDS.  No matter their age, even preschoolers can know that it’s wrong to be touched in areas a bathing suit would cover, and that they can ALWAYS talk to you if someone says or does something that makes them uncomfortable. They can be told that it’s okay to say “no,” that just because a person is an adult, “respect”  only covers so much territory.

Being age-appropriate is key. And you don’t have to point a finger to Daddy or Daddy’s friends.  Kids are at risk now in school from teachers and coaches. School sex ed classes cover matters most of us do not want to have brought to our children just yet, and certainly not without our own values (like chastity and reverence) being included in the conversation. A huge item in the news this week is a 10-year old in California being raped by a “transgender” in a public bathroom.

So it’s not just us who have to worry — everyone needs to worry, now; no one can afford to be complacent. But we have a higher risk factor.  I’m putting feelers out to see if there are any studies about rates of molestation for children of gays as compared to children from heterosexual households.  So far, nothing. We’ll see.

But there are risks. Maybe your gay ex-spouse is a jewel who wouldn’t dream of hurting anyone (I believe DH is in this category), but you can’t be sure all his friends are going to be so conscientious.

Forewarned is forearmed.

 

Why I Oppose Gay Marriage — Part Two: The Children

I’m more than contented to let Robert Oscar Lopez and Dawn Stefanowicz and their various colleagues reveal to the world the intricate and painful realities of growing up in a gay household. As a straight spouse, I’m concerned with something a bit more basic:

Gay households deprive children the opportunity of learning to orient toward the same and opposite sex in wholesome ways.

I think it bears repeating:  homosexuality isn’t about sex; it’s about one’s orientation toward the same and the opposite sex in all dimensions of human relationship.  Kids need to see the camaraderie, the collegiality that can exist in opposite-sex friendships. They need to get a sense of a wholesome and emotionally healthy identity of masculine-feminine. They need to observe heterosexual relationships. They need to get a sense of the complementarity of masculine and feminine natures.

This just isn’t offered in gay households. The gay community is insular. There aren’t many who, given the choice, mingle with heterosexuals. That means their children are overwhelmingly socialized amongst homosexuals, not heterosexuals.  And homosexuals’ dynamic is rooted in what the late Leanne Payne referred to as the rejection of the True Masculine/True Feminine. Consequently, kids raised in a gay household are not going to be emotionally and psychologically grounded in their own gender identity.

I think this is overwhelmingly revealed in California, where the earliest pediatric transgender cases hitting the news media are the kids of lesbian couples — boys becoming girls.

But even apart from such drastic examples (which, in my opinion, are worse than unethical – they are criminal and should result in the children being removed from that household and placed in protective custody), imagine the self-doubt that occurs in kids who have gay parents!  Kids go through a phase, in early puberty, of intense friendship.  This experience is healthy and normal; a century or so ago, it was not uncommon for girls to have crushes on women teachers or other role models, to walk around with an arm around one another. . .  now that ordinary, wholesome experience has been sexualized to the detriment of our children.  “If Mom/Dad is gay, does this mean I’m gay, too?”

Kids bond with their parents.  That means it has to be so much harder for the daughter of a gay man to learn to bond with heterosexual men; she simply doesn’t know what real masculinity looks and feels like, she’s thoroughly oriented — imprinted — through her relationship with her father.

Now, these concerns are not irreversible. Gay parents could be proactive, taking the initiative to socialize their kids with their own heterosexual friends.  But will they? None of the ones I know think it’s anything to bother about.

Still here

I just concluded a conversation with a new friend who, it turned out, knows this blog.  He told me I have more people watching it than I realized —- and that some had assumed that maybe I’d changed my mind about gay marriage, the whole fight, really, because I’ve been inactive so long.

I’ve not.  My opinions are not only unchanged since I began this blog, I find them being more and more strongly confirmed as more men and women come out with their own stories about toxic marriages to gays, or the sufferings of their being raised by gay parents.

The embarrassing truth of it is that having sole responsibility for this blog and being so immersed in this subject matter is oppressive to my spirit.  I live with depression (and, btw, I have yet to meet a former spouse of a homosexual who doesn’t also battle The Black Dog) and sometimes I have to budget my low energy levels as miserly as I can in order to cover the necessities.

But I’m so grateful — no, I’m still sitting here well after midnight shaking my head . . . simply amazed at being known and recognized and  told “Oh, yeah, you’re quite well known among my friends —” —

So let me take a moment to tell you all hello, and to thank you for looking for this blog and for your prayers and whatever positive thoughts you’ve had about what I do, here.

I’ve been collecting things to post here.  I’m looking for a couple other women to post, as well.  I won’t abandon this blog completely — even though sometimes I find I don’t have energy sufficient to post.

The fight really is just beginning.

Ineffible Grief

I’m not at all sure what has set it off this time.  I thought it was long since resolved. I thought I’d made peace with my losses, past and future, and with the alternative life I’ve seen stretched out before me.

But something has set it off.  Maybe it was seeing something from my daughter and realizing how badly damaged she is.  The sweet, gentle-spirited, loving girl has grown up to be a crass, defiant, almost-militant woman who, it is obvious, has embraced her daddy’s causes and still can’t get him to take her seriously.

Dear God! How long and how far must the hurt and the wreckage be flung?

It’s bad enough I’m damaged beyond repair. I know I’ll never be able to trust my own judgment about men, or the honesty or integrity of a relationship.  And, yes, I still have periods of grieving for the loss of the old dreams of a close (and large) family. Of love. I still resent having been used, reduced to being less than a person in my own right just so he’d have someone to hide behind. I resent the psychological abuses he inflicted on me so that when I needed help I trusted no one, not even for a long time my own judgment. I resent, still, that he had to be protected at all costs.

Because the cost has proven far too great.

Now that cost involves our children, who didn’t ask to be born, but whom he’s manipulated and used and abused to hide behind, even now.  Nothing is his fault, he will not face his own failures and responsibility – everything is “your choice,” said with a sneer and a look of utter contempt. He will always think of them as he has done of me: as idiots.  Useful idiots, perhaps, but idiots all the same.

And I can’t help my children, even less than I can help myself.  And I don’t know how to climb out of this pit of grief.