Chapter Text
Peter Parker sat on his bed and rocked.
The teal cover of the book Aunt May had asked him to read mocked him from the floor. Lost in Trans Nation: A Child Psychiatrist’s Guide Out of the Madness. Fuck that. He’s not mad.
Oh shit what if the stats in the book are right and he’s not really a boy? What if he turns 25 and regrets transitioning? Even worse, what if he then tries to get other people to not?
He feels like a traitor. He shouldn’t be thinking like this. There’s blatant disinformation in the book, it uses slurs, it’s arrogant as fuck. It compares ‘transgenderism’ to John Money’s pedophilia and unethical human experiments.
But it calls out medical abuse of trans kids by doctors who won’t treat underlying conditions.
It claims that most people will desist if you refuse to accept them within a few decades, and gives that as a reason not to accept any of them. It claims suicide rates are high because transness is disordered. It claims that most intersex people aren’t ‘really’ intersex, and advocates for IGM on infants while decrying medical transition for legal adults under 30.
It raises some good points about the silencing of doctors calling for larger studies on long term side effects of puberty blockers too early and a lack of informed consent.
It deadnames and misgenders nearly every person it mentions.
Peter tugs on his hair with his hands. This book is fucking with his head. He wants to cut himself. (He promised Mr. Stark he wouldn’t.) He wants to put on headphones and play on his phone until his brain quiets. (Aunt May took his phone at this book’s recommendation.) He wants to send the author a very long and very pointed email. (Again, no phone.) He wants to cry. He doesn’t want to get yelled at.
He stims with the sleeve of his hoodie. He can’t just sit here in a puddle of anxiety. He needs to talk to someone.
Oh right. He’s grounded. Apparently everyone who cares about him has been ‘indoctrinating him into gender ideology’.
Peter sees a stack of sticky notes on his desk. Maybe… maybe he could annotate it and Aunt May wouldn’t need to find out. Maybe then he’ll feel better.
Peter grabs a pencil and picks the stupid book up again.