@SusannaM
The thing that bothers me is, the idea that blocking puberty gives the child time to think through their options. But puberty isn't just about growing breasts, wet dreams, deepening voices etc. It's also about developing mental, emotional maturity and the development and maturation of the prefrontal cortex. If we block or delay puberty then that won't happen, so of course these children go straight to CSH they haven't developed enough to have the maturity to move on from their dysphoria.
I can't speak in the general sense for everyone, but can at least provide a personal data point on this subject!
As one of the early GIDS trans kids who went on blockers for several years in her mid teens back at the turn of the millennium and then went on to complete university and embark on a successful industry career, having lived a happy and fulfilling 22 years so far since transitioning, I've certainly never felt that my development was stunted.
Quite the opposite, in fact - I'm far happier, stable and successful than the majority of my friends and my transness is such a minor factor in my general life that I rarely need to factor it into my everyday considerations. I was generally known as 'the sane one' at university within my friendship group, and others frequently commented on how I seemed mature for my age.
Blockers were absolutely the lifeline I needed. I was, however, one of the more stable kids to turn up to GIDS, especially back in those early days - a matter that was frequently pointed out by staff. I knew exactly what I needed, and there was no question as to whether it was the right choice for me - though the staff were diligent, cautious and professional throughout my time with them. There was never any pressure to move on to any other treatment - quite the contrary in fact. Everything seemed so agonisingly slow, and I wasn't allowed to start HRT for several years, despite my desperate pleading to the contrary. The only regret I have is not starting Blockers earlier - my voice has that distinctive mid-teen crackle to it when I sing, so I'll always sound like a 15 year old boy trying to hit a high note! Just a reminder of where I came from, I suppose. It doesn't factor into daily life, but it does occasionally come back to haunt me, like the ghost of dysphoria past.
I've never known what it's like to live in society as a man - I experienced a boyhood that was being forced on me up to my early teens with a huge and very palpable awareness of how I was walking the wrong path, and then lived mid and late teenage girlhood and have experienced over twenty years of womanhood since. I have thankfully been spared a bunch of really unpleasant learned behaviours while being mindful of a whole bunch of others that are burned into people perceived male from a young age. I'd certainly never claim that my early life experiences give me remit to claim something that is not mine to claim, but I'm also acutely aware that I have no claim on manhood either. I don't know how to be one, I've never acted as one, have never experienced being perceived as one, and don't think I could if I tried!
Just a single datapoint, of course. Who knows, maybe blockers did stunt my development and I might have turned out to have been a nobel peace prize winner otherwise. I have very much felt, however, like I have been living my best life.
If blockers had been banned? Well, I'd have ended up in the same place, but the journey would have been harder and more miserable, would have taken longer, and my everyday existence would be marked by gender dysphoria rather than largely just getting on with my life. Not least because instead of being completely invisible, I'd have spent every day being subjected to transphobic abuse, like most trans people are.
Blockers saved me from that fate. They buy you time, if you are uncertain, they stop hugely distressing and unwanted changes from occurring to your body, and they hopefully buy the adults in your life time to get over the worst of their own prejudices.
It is extremely difficult to articulate quite how important they are to an early-mid teenager struggling with trans issues.
I'm so sad that Kiera Bell has had such a rough ride, but it was her ride to have and her decisions were hers to make. She's living proof that gender is complicated and people can make decisions they later come to regret even despite the best efforts of healthcare providers to protect them. Even back at the turn of the millennium we knew about the tiny proportion of people who experience regret after transition - and this was very much a subject of active discussion at every appointment, and likewise at Mermaids meetings back when we were a tiny little bunch operating out of a small conference centre. It was pretty clear that someone like Kiera Bell was going to somehow manage to make it through the system and screw their life up one day, and we'd been bracing ourselves for the resultant hand-wringing moral panic for years. Seeing her case used as an attack platform was disappointing, but not unexpected.
Hopefully now that we've gotten the reactionary backlash out of the way, we'll be able to open up more frank and honest discussions on the subject. Gender is certainly complicated - more complicated than it might seem for those who experience it as a singular point or a straight line, and for everyone who has a relatively clear-cut journey, there will be someone who doesn't.
It would be really, really nice if we could have these conversations openly - as while the data might not exist, the people absolutely do - but most of us can't afford to come out of the woodwork and risk having our lives exploded and subject to harassment. The workplace is often still incredibly hostile, and people get creepy, intrusive and obsessive about our existence when they find out that we used to walk a different road.
We escaped all that decades ago. Why would we want to go back to having an easily attackable, visible presence now, just to provide a counter point to something that we know shouldn't even have to be said?
Of course, that's rather the point, isn't it? If we can't talk for fear of attracting abuse, then what we have to say doesn't get said. Which is awfully convenient for those with a vested interest in making sure we remain silent on the subject of the narrative of our own lives.
So I applaud Kiera Bell for talking about her experiences - they need to be known and discussed, and it is devastatingly important that she did so. However, the way her story has been hijacked as a wholesale attack on the treatment lifeline for trans kids - the singular point of salvation; the critical factor that lets us escape a lifetime of abuse - is, while entirely predictable, also hugely disappointing. Especially as she didn't even start blockers until she was 16. The original ruling, thus, doesn't even cover cases like hers anyway. The entire premise was always flawed, and it isn't remotely surprising that the appeal was successful.