Why Shouting Isn't Working: Explaining Trans Healthcare Through Conversation

I'm going to be honest with you: I've wanted to scream at people more times than I can count. I've sat across from someone spewing complete nonsense about trans kids and hormone therapy, and every fiber of my being wanted to flip the table and unleash years of frustration. But here's what I've learned, shouting doesn't work. It never has, and it never will.

This is the second post in my series about having difficult conversations with people we disagree with, and today I want to talk about one of the most misunderstood topics in our community: trans healthcare, specifically hormone treatments and puberty. Because if there's one subject that gets people fired up on both sides, it's this one.

The Thing Nobody Understands About Puberty

Let me start with something most cisgender people have never had to think about: puberty is not neutral. For a trans kid going through the wrong puberty, it's not just uncomfortable, it's traumatic. Every day, their body is changing in ways that feel fundamentally wrong, and those changes are often permanent.

When someone tells me, "Well, they should just wait until they're 18 to make that decision," I know they genuinely don't understand what they're asking. They think waiting is the cautious, responsible choice. They don't realize that by 18, a trans woman has already developed an Adam's apple, broader shoulders, a deeper voice, and facial structure that may require expensive, painful surgeries to address. They don't know that a trans man has already developed breasts and hips that bind and cause dysphoria every single day.

Waiting until 18 isn't neutrality, it's forcing a medical intervention (the wrong puberty) on a kid who's been telling you exactly what they need. But here's the thing: most people I talk to have never thought about it this way. They're not evil. They're not monsters. They just don't know.

And that's where conversation comes in.

My Approach: Ask, Listen, Then Offer

I've had this conversation dozens of times, and I've developed a technique that actually works. It starts with a simple question, delivered with zero judgment:

"Can I just ask you a question? There's no right or wrong answer, I just want to know your feelings on this subject."

Then I shut up and listen. Really listen. I nod. I acknowledge what they're saying. I don't interrupt, even when they're repeating talking points I've heard a thousand times.

"I just think kids are too young to make permanent decisions about their bodies."

"I'm worried they're being influenced by social media."

"What if they regret it later?"

I listen to all of it. And here's the critical part: I'm gathering intelligence. I'm learning what they actually believe, where their fears come from, and what specific misinformation they've been fed. That information is gold because it tells me exactly where the conversation needs to go.

The Counterpoint Moment

Once they've shared their thoughts, I offer a counterpoint, but not as a lecture. I frame it as sharing information they might not have:

"I totally get why you'd feel that way. Can I share something that really changed my perspective on this?"

Then I explain the puberty thing. I keep it personal and specific:

"Most people don't know this, but puberty blockers aren't permanent. They just pause puberty to give a kid and their family more time to figure things out. But going through the wrong puberty? That creates permanent changes that can't be undone. So when we say 'wait until they're 18,' we're not actually keeping them safe, we're forcing them through a traumatic physical transformation that they've been begging us not to put them through."

I watch their face. Sometimes they get defensive. Sometimes they double down. But sometimes, and this is the magic moment, they pause. They ask a question. They say, "I didn't know that."

That's when you know you're getting somewhere.

When It Goes Sideways (And What To Do)

Not every conversation ends well. Sometimes people get combative. Sometimes they start raising their voice or throwing out more talking points. When that happens, I have a rule: disengage with grace.

"You know what? We're probably not going to agree on this one, and that's okay. I appreciate you sharing your perspective with me."

Then I change the subject or politely exit the conversation. I don't try to "win." I don't get pulled into a shouting match. Because the second I start yelling back, I've lost. I've just reinforced every stereotype they've been fed about "angry trans activists" and "the intolerant left."

But here's the thing people don't realize: even when the conversation doesn't end in agreement, I've still gained something valuable. I now understand how they think. I know what propaganda they've been exposed to. I have intelligence I can use in future conversations with other people who believe similar things.

And sometimes, weeks or months later, that person will come back to me. They'll say, "I've been thinking about what you said." They'll ask another question. The seed you planted starts to grow.

Why The LGBTQ+ Community Needs This Strategy

Here's the hard truth: we're not winning right now. Trans rights are being rolled back in state after state. Bathroom bills are passing. Healthcare access is being restricted. And a lot of well-meaning people are cheering these policies because they genuinely believe they're protecting kids.

We can keep calling them transphobes and bigots. We can keep writing them off as lost causes. But that strategy has gotten us exactly where we are today, losing ground.

They think we're just as crazy as we think they are. They think we're just as evil, just as brainwashed, just as dangerous. And if we never have calm, well-intentioned conversations with them, they'll keep thinking that forever.

I know this is one of the hardest things I'm asking you to do. Trust me, I get it. Some days I don't have the energy for it either. Some people are so hateful that engaging with them would be genuinely unsafe. I'm not saying you need to have these conversations with everyone.

But when the moment is right, when the circumstances allow it, when you're dealing with someone who's genuinely confused rather than actively hateful, that's when conversation can change everything.

The Research Backs This Up

Studies on trans healthcare show that open dialogue and inclusive communication practices lead to better outcomes for everyone involved. When healthcare providers approach conversations with respect and open-mindedness, transgender patients feel safe, share more accurate health information, and receive better care.

The same principle applies outside the doctor's office. When we approach conversations about trans issues with patience and genuine dialogue rather than confrontation, we build trust. We create space for people to ask questions they're afraid to ask. We give them permission to change their minds without feeling attacked.

Shouting feels good in the moment, but it doesn't create lasting change. Conversation does.

Start Small, Stay Calm, Collect Intelligence

If you're reading this and thinking, "Okay Maddie, I'm willing to try, but where do I start?": here's my advice:

Start with people you already have a relationship with. A coworker who's expressed confusion. A family member who's "just asking questions." Someone who seems genuinely curious rather than actively hostile.

Use the question framework: "Can I ask you about something? There's no right or wrong answer: I just want to understand your perspective."

Listen more than you talk. Even when it's painful. Even when they're wrong. Especially when they're wrong, because that's when you're learning the most.

Offer one specific counterpoint. Don't try to change their entire worldview in one conversation. Plant one seed. Give them one fact they didn't know.

If it gets heated, exit gracefully. "We'll have to agree to disagree on this one." Then move on.

And remember: every conversation gives you intelligence. Even the ones that go nowhere teach you something about what people believe and why they're voting the way they vote.

We Need Bridge-Builders, Not Just Activists

Look, I'm not saying we don't need activists who march and protest and make noise. We absolutely do. But we also need bridge-builders. We need people who are willing to sit down with someone who disagrees with them and have a calm, mature conversation about hormone blockers and puberty and why this stuff matters.

Because right now, the other side has a massive, well-funded propaganda machine feeding people misinformation. And if the only counter to that is us screaming at them on social media, we're going to keep losing.

But if we can have one conversation at a time, plant one seed at a time, change one heart at a time? That's how we actually move forward.

It's hard. It's frustrating. Sometimes it feels impossible. But I've seen it work. I've watched people's entire perspectives shift because someone took the time to explain something they'd never understood before.

So the next time you're sitting across from someone who thinks kids should "just wait until they're 18," take a breath. Ask a question. Listen. Then share what you know about the trauma of going through the wrong puberty.

You might not change their mind that day. But you might plant a seed that grows into something bigger than either of you expected.

And that's how we win: one conversation at a time.