Ellen Page’s Journey and the Complexity of Identity

Reality can hit hard, and so can its complicated counterpart—unreality.

Before diving deeper, I need to share a little about my own experiences.

Not long ago, I made two significant decisions that had major consequences for how language was used in discussions, especially in the Daily Caller.

To start on a positive note: I was the first to suggest we call “gender affirming care” simply “sex changes,” and specifically “sex changes for minors” when it came to kids. I thought it would resonate well, no matter the audience, and was quite accurate. A school quietly calling Jane “Johnny” without informing her parents? That felt like a sex change to me—just as much as hormone treatments or surgeries did.

What was also advantageous was that the stigma associated with sex changes still carried weight on both sides of the debate. Adults undergoing transition can still provoke shock. Just think about kids going through it.

Eventually, this language caught on with conservatives, which I took as a small victory for reality. I must say, it also gave my ego a little boost.

(I did later learn about the term “sex rejecting care,” which left me feeling a bit conflicted, but I still believe “sex change” packs a stronger punch.)

Now for the less savory part. I regret, more than anything in my 25-year career—believe me, I’ve made some bad calls—suggesting that we avoid referring to Bruce Jenner as “he.”

YIKES! There was some nuance to my suggestion. I thought not using pronouns could steer the focus—though that, honestly, made things tricky.

There were several misguided reasons behind my advice. First off, Bruce stood out among gender-nonconforming voices insisting on caution regarding children transitioning. He was vocal about slowing down the rush into transgender ideology, a perspective that resonates deeply when talking about child welfare. He wasn’t alone in this. Such voices matter because they reflect on real-life experiences.

Second, the media landscape was chaotic, suppressing any narratives that didn’t align with the rigid new rules around gender. It felt like any blog post or hard-hitting investigation could vanish without a trace.

For me, the urgent priority was exposing how this ideology impacted minors, sometimes in horrifying ways. I thought that gendered pronouns would only distract from that goal.

Third—and perhaps worst of all—I foolishly assumed that no one would misunderstand who Bruce Jenner was, regardless of what we named him. I imagined that even a casual observer, like a tollbooth worker, would quickly get that he was transgender. So, a few references to Jenner’s name wouldn’t matter much.

Fortunately, our internal discourse around language was largely put to rest before it escalated too much, but it did involve some heated discussions with various parties. Looking back now, I see it was a crucial point of contention, and I regret my approach in that situation.

Reflecting on it, even if this struggle of mine was never widely known (until now), it still feels like a blemish on an otherwise unblemished commitment to aggressive truth-telling that contributed to the fight against the push for child transitions.

Pinocchio’s Parallel

I wonder if Ellen Page thinks about Pinocchio. Does she see any parallels to her journey?

A puppet, seeking fame while trying to find a Blue Fairy who may or may not truly exist, merely by lying and misbehaving along the way.

However, there’s a darker twist to Pinocchio’s tale. Originally, it was crafted in 1883 as a cautionary tale about moral failings and obsessive fantasies. The “Blue Fairy” was actually someone very different, haunting the puppet. The original story consists of stark themes, including death.

For instance, there’s a scene early on where Pinocchio, in a fit of anger, kills the moralizing cricket who tries to guide him. Later, he’s gaslighted by con artists, winding up hanging from a tree after they rob him.

After much backlash, the original author revised the story to add a redemptive arc, where Pinocchio eventually comes to understand his past mistakes and becomes a “real boy.” This contrasts sharply with Disney’s softer moral—that simply being kind and generous is enough.

One wonders, was Collodi a Roman Catholic?

Personal Reflections

My sister and I have had a rocky relationship for quite some time.

In one of our last tough conversations, I told her, point-blank, “You’ll never be a man.”

I also, in a moment of desperation, pleaded with her not to undergo any irreversible changes. I was seemingly the only member of the family who didn’t “affirm” her choices. That conversation spiraled into chaos, leaving our relationship in tatters.

I understand my father’s worries about being alienated. I really do. My sister rarely reaches out, even when she’s nearby.

Someone had to take a stand, and it often falls to the eldest brother, right?

Ellen Page’s Latest News

Ellen Page recently made headlines again when Christopher Nolan cast her in a new film. Footage has even leaked online showing her in what looks like Roman armor before what seems to be her impending demise. There are clips of her boxing, which—credit where it’s due—show she has solid form. But then again, she’s only about 5’1” and weighs around 110 pounds.

The push to present Page as “Elliott” is a striking communication strategy of the past decade. If you’ve been paying attention, you know there’s been quite a bit happening.

Page simply isn’t a man. She recently appeared looking like two kids in oversized clothing trying to fit a costume meant for an adult. Her security detail towers over her as she awkwardly engages with fans.

Not long ago, Page was a stunning woman, radiating confidence. Now, it’s hard to miss her discomfort and struggles in the various media appearances tied to the film.

Watching her discuss masculinity, it feels like a woman poorly impersonating a man. I mean, isn’t acting supposed to be her forte?

“Healthy masculinity to me, especially as I transitioned, is about stepping away from impulsive expectations to shut down or conform,” she commented during a podcast. Expressive masculinity, according to her, “might just be allowing yourself a good cry.”

Well, that’s an interesting take. But honestly, I don’t think Page is going to define masculinity for me.

She hasn’t experienced male puberty. She doesn’t know what it’s like to navigate the changes of growing up, the sudden height and weight shifts.

She hasn’t lived under the constant threat of violence or felt the pressure that can lead to it. She wasn’t bullied by boys and didn’t find the courage to fight back, only to face repercussions later from an adult.

She hasn’t grasped the nuances of shared laughter among men, nor the diverse experiences that shape manhood.

Perhaps the most troubling aspect of this whole PR push is that Page is precisely the “finished product” they envisioned.

The Men’s Health Cover

Alongside her cultural presence, rumors have circulated about her upcoming feature on the cover of Men’s Health.

This feels like an instance where parody verges on the real—a distorted reflection, if you will. Though she has previously graced a male magazine’s cover, this feels different.

That subheadline emphasizes male references to an almost comedic degree.

“In his own words, the actor and advocate shares insights about his childhood, career, transition, and life, though not necessarily in that order.”

Not sure why the sequence matters that much, but you can tell they stopped questioning things by the third “his.”

The accompanying images aimed to portray Page in a masculinized manner, seemingly under heavy coaching. This certainly feels like a scenario that could have been avoided with better judgment.

It probably won’t be the last time we see this from her.

What’s amusing about this rumored Men’s Health cover is how many men on it live in a falsehood. Most likely, they’ll boast about their strict workout regimes without admitting to extensive use of steroids and other enhancements. “Just chicken and broccoli!” they proclaim, neglecting the expensive supplements and routines that accompany their results.

The men featured might be real, but like Page, they’re all trapped in their own deceptions.

It’s a high-stakes act of exhibitionism that draws attention to their struggles without any artistic touch-up. A vulnerable individual stands before us, an open display for public view, demanding applause.

It’s tragic and unsettling, but it fits right in with typical Hollywood narratives.

Unlike Pinocchio, however, Ellen Page is a real person, with genuine feelings and struggles beneath the surface.