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Jason #transphobia jasonlionheart.substack.com

For transparency, I am a bisexual man. That’s it. Not part of a collective, not a letter in an ever-expanding acronym, not a member of an identity-based voting bloc. […]

Yet, despite this, my sexual orientation is being used—without my consent—to promote political movements, ideologies, and corporate agendas that have nothing to do with me. The expectation is clear: If you are not fully on board with the packaged narrative of "LGBTQ2I+," you are a problem.

But here’s the truth: It’s not possible to be an “LGBTQ2I+ person.” That’s a marketing construct, not an identity. […] slapping an acronym over disparate groups and pretending they have the same needs, the same struggles, or the same desires is both disingenuous and deeply misleading.

If this movement truly stood for diversity and inclusion, how is it that everyone under its umbrella is expected to have exactly the same political, social, and cultural stance? How can people with fundamentally different experiences be pressured to conform to a single ideology?

This is not about unity. It is about control.

[…]

This is not a movement designed to uplift individuals. It is a system designed to erase them.

This movement does not celebrate the diversity of thought. It demands uniformity. It does not allow for individuality. It enforces ideological alignment. You must think a certain way. Vote a certain way. Speak a certain way. Or you are an outsider—cast out from the very community that claims to support you.

What’s happening today under the LGBTQ2I+ banner is not just about advocacy. It is about a forced redefinition of truth

[…]

But what is happening now is not about supporting trans individuals—it is about compelling the world to accept an ideology that overrides biological reality, undermines women’s rights, and, in many ways, erases same-sex attraction itself.

Jason #transphobia jasonlionheart.substack.com

Something Has Entered the Room

There’s a moment—often quiet, often private—when a parent realizes something has changed. Not just in their child, but in the atmosphere of the home. It’s as if something foreign has entered the room. Something invisible, but heavy. It doesn’t speak in full sentences, but it has a language. A rhythm. A command. It stirs confusion, tension, and silence. It rearranges trust.

You can’t name it at first. But you feel it. You feel it in the pauses. In the new vocabulary. In the discomfort that creeps into once-effortless moments with your child. You feel it when the air in the house starts to thicken—not from conflict, but from something unnamed and uninvited.

It’s not simply grief. It’s not simply fear. It is something else entirely.

A possession.

Something ideological. Something spiritual. Something designed to displace—not just beliefs—but bonds.

Ideological Possession.

You Don’t Just Observe It—You Carry It

What makes ideological possession so devastating is not just what it does to your child—but what it does to you. […]

You become both witness and victim.

This is what many parents struggle to articulate. Not because they lack words, but because the experience itself is unspeakable. You see your child repeating phrases, shifting identities, mirroring groupthink. But what hits harder is the internal rupture: the way your own body begins reacting. The tightening of your chest when you’re told to “just affirm.” The nausea after reading another article instructing you to be silent and supportive, or risk being labeled unsafe.

[…]

If you’re in the middle of this—watching your child shift into someone unrecognizable, navigating daily life while trying to preserve your sanity—then you need more than resilience. You need tools to stay tethered to yourself.

This isn’t about fixing your child. This is about protecting your center so you don’t collapse under the weight of what’s happening.