When Freedom Becomes Confusion: A Psychiatrist’s Inner Conflict

I stood by the door of my son’s kindergarten, holding his tiny backpack in one hand and his even tinier fingers in the other.

It was a typical morning. Warm smiles. The buzz of children’s voices. Shoes kicked off near the door in a chaotic little pile.

And then I saw it.

A two-year-old boy twirling in a pink glittery dress, sequins catching the light like a disco ball. Another child – also a boy – had on a blue ruffled dress with bows and beads.

The staff greeted me with ease.

“We support gender freedom here,” one of them said gently. “The kids can wear what they like. It’s normal.”

I smiled, but my breath caught in my chest. Not from judgment. But from confusion. And concern.

Because I’m not just a mother. I’m also a psychiatrist. And suddenly, two worlds inside me clashed.

The Line Between Acceptance and Clarity

For years, I’ve walked with people through the darkest corridors of their minds. I’ve treated adults with deep identity confusion, some struggling with gender dysphoria. Their suffering is real, raw, and complex.

I’ve always believed in inclusion. In compassion. In offering space for healing and belonging.

But this moment -this glittery, pink, innocent moment – didn’t feel like inclusion. It felt like disorientation. And the ones being disoriented weren’t the adults.

They were toddlers.

Still learning what a fork is. Still struggling to form full sentences. Still building the scaffolding of self – brick by brick, day by day.

And here we are, offering them dresses, ribbons, and a message: “You can be anything.”

Sounds empowering, right?

But I couldn’t shake the question: Is it really empowering, or is it confusing?

The Brain Is Still Under Construction

At two years old, children are not expressing fully formed identities. They’re absorbing them. Their brains are like soft clay – pliable, impressionable, and hungry for structure.

They need reference points, not abstraction. They need mirrors, not existential choices.

Let’s be honest – how can a toddler possibly understand gender as a social construct when they barely understand the concept of tomorrow?

And yet, the messaging around them is loud and clear:

“You can be a boy or a girl or anything in between. It’s all okay. It’s all normal.”

But what if that “freedom” is actually too much responsibility for a mind still under construction?

What if, instead of helping them feel seen, we’re actually creating a fog where there should be light?

This Isn’t About Politics. It’s About Development.

I’m not writing this to spark outrage. I’m writing this to spark reflection. Especially if you’re a parent, a professional, or someone who shapes young minds.

This is not a discussion about adult gender identity. This is a question about early childhood development. About what happens when the external environment becomes too fluid for the internal self to form.

I’ve seen what happens when identity is built on shaky ground.

I’ve held space for the grown-ups who weren’t given the clarity they needed when they were young.

I’ve heard the pain of not knowing who you are – and having no stable reference to go back to.

So when I saw that little boy twirling in a dress, it wasn’t about the dress.

It was about the loss of clarity in a moment that should have offered stability.

The Role of Institutions: Structure or Experimentation?

As a mother, I want my child to grow in a world that is kind, inclusive, and respectful of differences.

But as a psychiatrist, I know there is a fine line between freedom and fragmentation.

When kindergartens adopt ideologies that even adults struggle to integrate, we’re not creating safe spaces. We’re creating psychological experiments.

We say we’re giving them choices. But what we’re actually doing is asking toddlers to navigate complexity that belongs in adult spaces.

Are we truly supporting them – or asking them to carry questions that even we haven’t answered?

Let’s Ask Ourselves Brave Questions

What would it look like to raise children with clarity first, and curiosity second?

To offer them strong roots before inviting them to explore the forest?

To say, “You are loved exactly as you are” without adding, “…or whoever you might decide to be tomorrow”?

Here are some questions I invite you to reflect on:

• Are we supporting diversity—or unintentionally introducing confusion?
• What does healthy inclusion look like in early childhood?
• How do we protect the psychological safety of young children while teaching them to respect others?
• And are we willing to separate what makes us feel politically “good” from what is actually developmentally right?

Motherhood Made Me See Things Differently

Before becoming a mom, I might have nodded and moved on. I might have viewed it purely through the lens of adult freedom.

But now, I look at my son. His wide eyes. His sponge-like curiosity. His need for things to be the same, to make sense.

And I feel a deep responsibility – not just to love him, but to guide him. To give him solid ground. So that when he’s ready, he can leap freely from it – not into confusion, but into confidence.

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

I know this is a sensitive topic. I know it touches on personal values, politics, and beliefs.

But if we can’t ask hard questions for the sake of our children – who will?

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

How do you see this playing out in your environment?

What are your experiences as a parent or professional?

How do you define healthy identity development in today’s world?

Let’s start talking.

With curiosity. With courage. And with care.

Florina