Circumcision is a disturbing reality. Everyone knows about it, but it’s been kept under the radar. This silence has carried on for several generations in our country, and like a family secret left undiscussed, it still reverberates. My own experience provides a good example.

Eighteen years ago, my wife at the time and I knew we were going to be having a son, but the topic of circumcision had never come up. We had never talked about it, and my wife’s doctor hadn’t addressed it during her prenatal visits. When it was time for the baby to come, we checked in to the hospital and right away were dealing with some medical issues. So it was in the midst of absorbing all this information that the nurse handed us a consent form to circumcise our son. She strongly recommended we agree to it, but she didn’t explain much.

The moment had come, at the 11th hour, to finally address whether to have our baby circumcised. The whole thing felt rushed, but we had a few moments to discuss it privately. My wife wanted to do it. She was firm. She was concerned about how our son’s penis would look, that it would be better cosmetically to have it done. I, on the other hand, thought it was unnecessary and a bad idea, and I didn’t want to do it.

While I was growing up, my penis didn’t feel right. Something felt off, like a pinching sensation or prickly nerve endings. I asked my parents about it when I was a teenager, and they said it was probably because I was circumcised. They said they had elected to allow it and hadn’t had any reason to doubt the decision at the time.

That was the first I’d even heard of circumcision, but knowing this had been surgery that permanently altered my penis, I finally could make sense of my experience. It bothered me enough that I asked friends in high school and college if they had noticed any similar discomfort. Almost everyone was circumcised, and a few agreed when I described my symptoms. 

Those suspicions led me to do research online over the years, looking for evidence that could confirm the medical necessity. I couldn’t find anything. Instead, I learned it could lead to sensitivity issues, like my own, and possible sexual problems. So, when it came time for my son to be born, I knew I was against it.

But after going back and forth, I basically gave in. We were bringing a baby into the world, one of life’s big moments, and I didn’t want to spoil the whole celebration. Looking back, I wish we’d had more time to think and talk about it because I would have had a better chance to explain the effects circumcision has had on me.

Not long ago, I met a community of people who share my convictions when I responded to a call seeking participants for an Intact America campaign about circumcision. I had never heard of Intact America, and I fell in love with what they stood for. It brought back a flood of painful memories about my own experience. But I want to help change things for the better.

I think as I share my story, and others share theirs, we can help educate a lot of people, especially younger couples who just aren’t aware of what circumcision really means. We can turn that pain into something that will help others choose a better way for future generations.