When I finally woke up to the reality of how dysfunctional my birth family was, it was like a switch flipped, and I became obsessed with unraveling the "hows" and "whys." That obsession led me deep into understanding malignant narcissism—a crash course in toxic human behavior. Around the same time, I dove into the Christian Bible, searching for answers and comfort. I studied it until I knew it like the back of my hand. But the more I understood, the more I saw how it was being twisted and weaponized in politics and society to justify the unjustifiable. That was the moment I walked away—for good. Just like I walked away from my birth family when I realized how toxic and dangerous they truly were.
Leaving wasn’t easy. I think that’s why I clung to my belief in the Bible’s God so fervently for a while. Passages about shunning evildoers resonated deeply with me—it felt like divine permission to cut ties. Religion, I’ve learned, is like a magnet for the wounded and rejected, and when my birth family turned their backs on me, God and religion felt like the perfect remedy. But eventually, I realized that remedy came with its own poison, and I let that go too.
It’s funny how growing up in dysfunction warps your perspective. You don’t even realize how abnormal it all is until you step away and see how other families operate. It wasn’t until a therapist bluntly told me my parents should’ve been locked up that I realized I wasn’t just justified in “divorcing” them—I was overdue. Trying to explain my decision to my siblings, though, was a lost cause. Denial was their survival mechanism, and to this day, they refuse to see the truth.
Since then, I’ve become almost obsessive about exposing the lies and deceptions that society tolerates out of ignorance or self-preservation. Whether it’s family secrets or larger cultural injustices, I can’t stay silent. And just like my family rejected me, I know most people will too. That’s okay. I’ve reached a point in life where I don’t need anyone’s approval. There’s a profound peace that comes with standing in your truth, even if you’re standing alone.
Now imagine this: In your country, it’s totally acceptable to cut off the right arm of every newborn. At first, you don’t question it—it's just tradition. But one day, you have an epiphany. You realize this bizarre practice isn’t normal, and the rest of the world is horrified by it. You start educating yourself and try to share what you’ve learned, but people dismiss you. Some say, “I’m fine with one arm,” or, “My kid should match me.” Others even argue it prevents disease or looks better. It’s maddening. You’re left screaming into the void, wondering how people can’t see the harm in what’s been done to them.
That’s how I feel about circumcision. I started questioning it the first time I learned what it entailed, but hearing the cries of babies during the procedure is what cemented my conviction. I know what it’s like to be hurt by those who were supposed to protect you, to carry scars that change who you could have been. That loss stays with you. It’s the same for men who’ve been circumcised—they’re robbed of something precious, something they can never get back.
Yet, when they speak out, they’re met with ridicule or silence. But they’re not looking for pity. They’re fighting to stop a barbaric, inhumane practice so future generations don’t have to suffer the same fate. The shame isn’t on them—it’s on a society that protects the genital rights of girls but not boys.
I’m sorry so many American men have endured this unnecessary amputation. But I won’t lie and say you’re better off with one arm when you could have two. That doesn’t mean you’re unworthy or unlovable—it means you were failed by a system that preyed on your parents’ ignorance. The trauma you endured wasn’t your fault, and it has lasting effects. I’m sorry. You deserved better.
For the sake of the next generation, I refuse to stay silent. Circumcision is the most common surgery in America, yet so few truly understand it. Watch a procedure. Educate yourself. We’ve been lied to, and it’s time for the truth to come out. It’s time for it to end.
