On Transgender Youth and Medical Intervention

I don’t believe the government should restrict the right to healthcare for transgender youths or adults.

But in Florida and many other U.S. states, this is already a reality as of the past two years.

First and foremost, the desire of every person who medically transitions is unique to their identity. I, as a trans man, have only felt the need to be on hormone therapy and have ‘top’ surgery. I don’t think I’ll ever get ‘bottom’ surgery because it’s unnecessary for me to be happy in my life as a man.

I knew something was different about me since I was as young as four years old and had an indescribable desire for a brother. I wanted nothing more than to be ‘one of the boys’ and asked my mom if the doctor could change out my baby sibling for a boy.

As I grew older, that indescribable desire expanded, and so did my desperation for words to explain it. Growing up in Eustis, Florida, I was never taught the words.

I grew up not knowing anything about the LGBT+ community. The first time I remember being aware of ‘gay’ people was when my father made fun of a homosexual man on TV. He will never know that his insulting someone on the basis of who they love was my introduction to the community as well as an introduction to the true beliefs of my father as a person. It’s sad and true that the reason my father will never know is because when I came out as trans to him, he called me sick and refused to see me as his child.

You may find this hard to believe, but my parents would never have gotten me gender-affirming medical care. First off, they couldn’t even afford a therapist when I was depressed and suicidal. Secondly, if I’d come out to my dad before being eighteen, he would have kicked me out. And just in case he did it anyway, I had a go-bag ready. I know he would have done it because I’m not allowed in his house to this day.

I also waited until I was eighteen to buy my own health care (which I didn’t have for a few years). I moved away from my parents, and the first thing I did was see a therapist. I talked to therapists and psychiatrists before eventually discussing hormone therapy with multiple doctors. Not only internal medicine practitioners—but specifically endocrinologists.

It was a grueling process that took a lot of mental strength, and I remember feeling disheartened when I ran into wall after wall, whether with doctors or insurance. It is not an easy process, by any means, to get the healthcare I deserve.

When I finally did, I was so happy. My depression had lessened when I moved away from my parents, but when I finally started hormone therapy, I became happy with my body and skin. It wasn’t perfect, but God, it was close enough. The euphoria I felt was amazing; to this day, I love its effects on me.

I won’t say hormone therapy is for everyone or that every trans person needs hormone therapy. Many are just as happy without it. But in my experience, everyone needs to decide for themselves and possibly the help of their family, friends, and medical team. Not the government.

Similarly to many politicians, my mother was extremely against medically transitioning. She insisted I try to be happy as a woman, and when that didn’t work, she insisted I try to live my life as a man without medical intervention. She has a distaste for doctors and medical intervention when it comes to anyone but herself, so it wasn’t surprising, nor did I take it to heart. Ultimately, she knew she couldn’t control my decisions once I’d moved away from her, but I did keep talking to her and telling her how happy I was. If she knew how happy I’d be, she wouldn’t have warned me against it. The reality is that she didn’t know how I felt. She couldn’t possibly understand, just like the average politician.

Just as well, when I finally legally changed my name, she was against that too. She asked why I didn’t just ‘use a nickname.’ The answer to that is that at many jobs, I have been openly discriminated against for being trans. It’s hard to argue with a transphobic boss who has total authority over me (in an at-will state especially), saying she needs to have my legal name on my paperwork, clock-in card, name badge, etc. You know, the worst part about that was that the assistant manager had already made all my ID’s and papers with my preferred name, and the general manager took the time to go back and change everything. She was the only one at that job who used my legal name, and it sounded like fire crackling in my ears every time she said it. I felt my face grow hot as she embarrassed me in front of my friends and coworkers, many of whom were classmates.

It’s hard to feel like you have any dignity in that situation.

As a chronically impulsive person, I’m no stranger to rushed decisions. What is NEVER a rushed decision is questioning if you’re transgender. What is NEVER a rushed decision is wanting to tell your loved ones that you are or may be transgender. What is NEVER a rushed decision is trying to transition medically.

At every single point in anyone’s journey, there are moments they are forced backward. Forced to wait. Forced to sit on their decisions.

It is never easy to medically transition, nor can it be done on a whim. It takes years of feeling wrong with your identity and body. It might take years of hating yourself or feeling like you’re not the person you’re meant to be. It takes years of hearing parents and politicians questioning everything about you.

Furthermore, for a CHILD to even consider medically transitioning, they have to confront and discuss it with their parents first. Living in Florida, the likelihood of a trans child feeling comfortable talking to their possibly homophobic or transphobic parents is slim. What’s even smaller are the odds that their parents will be open to hearing their child out and respecting their identity. What’s even smaller than that is the number of parents who would take steps to help their child, not to mention doing so medically.

Ultimately, the decision is not up to the government. It is up to the person who is transgender *if* they find that their journey requires medical intervention.

As a child, it is also up to their families, who have the authority to control them and allow or deny them medical access.