Let’s be clear:
If I’m not going to sleep with you, I don’t need to know anything about your sexuality.
And children—who are not going to sleep with anyone—certainly don’t.
Your sexuality is not sacred. It’s not a personality, it’s not a protected class of performance art, and it’s not the center of anyone’s moral universe but your own. Unless we are in a relationship, I am not obligated to acknowledge, affirm, or be exposed to your private desires—especially not in public, and especially not in front of children.
This used to be understood. Now it’s called hate.
No, We Don’t Owe You an Audience
Sexuality belongs in the private realm. It is intimate by definition. If you feel compelled to wear your kink on your sleeve—or on a float, or in a first-grade classroom—you are not inviting understanding, you are demanding submission. You are violating others’ right not to participate.
Consent doesn’t vanish because your fetish is “progressive.” If anything, the burden is higher.
No one consents to being flashed on the subway. No one consents to a stranger’s arousal. No one consents to a stranger telling their child about masturbation, kink, gender identity, or pornographic categories under the guise of “inclusive sex ed.” Yet all of this is happening now—in public parks, in classrooms, in televised programming.
It is not tolerance. It is invasion.
Children Are Not Here to Validate You
Children are not queer. Children are not sexual. Children do not need to “see themselves represented” in a spectrum of adult desire. This idea—that identity is only valid if sexualized and mirrored—is narcissism, not pedagogy.
There is no legitimate reason to initiate a child into the language of sexual preference, gender identity, or alternative lifestyles. The only people who benefit from that dynamic are those looking to normalize boundary violations.
Let me state it plainly:
Children who are not going to have sex do not need to be exposed to sexuality.
Period.
Any adult who insists otherwise is not confused. They are grooming.
Public Fetishism Is Not Liberation
There is a vast difference between being gay and demanding the right to simulate sex acts in front of children. Between being transgender and insisting on teaching kindergartners about breast removal. Between being proud of who you are and insisting the whole world observe your kink play in the street.
This is not diversity. This is decay.
Men in dog masks being walked on leashes by their lovers are not brave—they are forcing strangers into their psychodrama. This is exhibitionism, and when children are present, it becomes criminal exhibitionism.
We used to know this. Peeping, flashing, voyeurism—these were considered red flags. Dangerous behaviors. Early signs of escalation. Now they’re filmed, hashtagged, and funded by public grants.
Stop Calling It Love—It’s Entitlement
This is not about who you love. It’s about how you demand to be seen. If you need the entire public to witness, applaud, and adapt to your sexuality, you’re not a pioneer—you’re an emotional colonizer.
Love does not demand a captive audience. It does not parade past toddlers. It does not demand that schools teach four-year-olds about “preferred pronouns.” Love protects children. Love guards modesty. Love waits.
And if you can’t wait—if you need to be seen, affirmed, and obeyed—you’re not talking about love. You’re talking about power.
Consent Applies to Culture, Too
We teach children that consent is sacred—so why are we failing to apply that lesson to public life?
No child consents to drag queen story hour.
No parent consents to leather harnesses on city floats.
No woman consents to being exposed to male sexuality in the ladies’ room, or in the school library, or anywhere she cannot opt out.
Consent is not just for sex. It’s for everything.
Attention. Language. Presence. Ideology. Imagery.
And we are done pretending we don’t notice when it’s violated.
The boundary is back.
And we are drawing it in bold.
There once was a girl
And she liked to climb trees.
She had dirt in her hair,
And blood on her knees.
Had no pink in her cupboard,
Didn’t like the right toys,
So they cut off her hair
And they called her a boy.
She fell into depression.
They tried to be kinder;
To help her fit in:
Crushed her breasts in a binder.
But it wasn’t enough
She felt awkward and weird,
So they pumped her with drugs
And they grew her a beard.
She couldn’t stand dresses,
She refused to wear bras,
So they cut off her breasts,
Celebrated her scars.
They stripped flesh off her arm
Made a fat tube of skin,
Sewed it onto her crotch,
And said: “Now you’re a him!”
He looked like a man,
But squeaky and little,
His hair falling out,
And his bones frail and brittle.
He suffered through menopause,
Atrophy, bleeding,
His new penis was limp
And lacked any feeling.
His parents agreed,
He would never give birth,
So they cut out his ovaries,
To spite all the TERFs.
He grew sadder, and sadder,
But could not find the answer,
His heartbeat grew weak,
And the drugs gave him cancer.
When crying one night,
His whole head in a whirl,
His mum asked: “what’s wrong?”
She said: “Mum, I’m a girl.”
One of the most important skills I see in successful (and good) people is to constantly reevaluate assumptions. They make predictions based on various inputs, some of them unknown, and reevaluate based on what they got right and wrong. They trust people not because they're always right--no one is--but because if you're constantly seeking the truth it's easy to identify those who are doing the same.
If you were confident that Donald J. Trump was going to lose, maybe you should question what else you "know" about him. Maybe the people who misled you about his electoral chances have misled you about other things.
In the words of Cormac McCarthy, "If the rule you followed brought you to this, of what use was the rule?"