Help Cyersten Heal: A Second Chance Through Chest Reconstruction Surgery

Hi, my name is Cyersten Collins. I’m 25 years old, and I’m sharing my story with raw honesty and deep vulnerability. It’s not easy to open up about what I’ve been through, but I’m at a point in my life where I need help—help to finally heal, and to live in a body that feels like mine.

When I was 12 years old, I was prescribed an antidepressant. That medication would later be pulled from the market by the FDA for the severe and lasting physical effects it caused—particularly in young patients. But at the time, no one warned me. Because I was female, doctors told me the side effects “weren’t a concern.” That was a lie. That drug triggered abnormal, painful chest growth that deformed my body and left me with irreversible damage, both physically and emotionally.

As I grew up, my chest became unmanageable. It caused immense pain in my back and shoulders, even affecting my posture to the point where I developed a noticeable hump in my spine. I couldn’t sleep comfortably. I couldn’t stand or walk for long periods without pain. And worst of all, I couldn’t find a single doctor who would take me seriously.

I spent my teenage years being ignored by medical professionals who told me my condition was “cosmetic,” that I would “grow into it,” that it “wasn’t serious enough.” But it was serious. It consumed every part of my life. It took a toll on my mental health that I’m still working to recover from.

By the time I was 16, I couldn’t take it anymore. After years of fighting to be heard, I finally found a doctor who agreed to operate. It wasn’t a full reconstruction—it was a massive breast reduction. We hoped it would help alleviate the pain and allow me to feel some kind of normal. But instead of relief, the surgery left me with more pain, more scarring, and more emotional devastation. It didn’t fix the underlying problems. It didn’t give me the body I needed to feel safe in. It just made everything harder to live with.

Growing up in a body that didn’t match my age or identity came with constant humiliation. By 14, I looked like an adult woman. Strangers sexualized me. People assumed I was promiscuous, or a victim of assault. I was judged, bullied, and shamed by classmates, teachers, and even family members. I lost count of the times I was made to feel disgusting for something I didn’t choose. Something a pill did to me.

I withdrew from life. I stopped wearing the clothes I wanted to wear. I avoided mirrors. I avoided people. The pain of living in a body that felt wrong pushed me to the edge. There were moments where I didn’t think I could keep going—where I almost didn’t. I’m still here, but not without scars.

Now, at 24, I’m still living with the consequences. My chest is deformed and uneven. My back pain is constant. My mental health, though stronger, still suffers from the trauma of being ignored and misunderstood for so long. But I’ve found hope again—this time, in a specialized surgeon who finally understands what I’ve been through.

This surgeon has offered a path forward: a complex chest reconstruction that can correct the damage from both the medication and the failed reduction surgery. It’s not a cosmetic procedure. It’s a chance to finally feel like myself. To live without pain. To move through the world without shame or fear.

But the surgery is expensive. Insurance won’t cover it, calling it “elective”—as if the years of pain, medical complications, and emotional trauma mean nothing. The cost of the procedure, travel, and recovery is more than I can afford on my own. That’s why I’m turning to you—to anyone who’s ever felt invisible, dismissed, or trapped in a body that doesn’t feel like home.

I’m asking for help. For a chance to reclaim my body and my life. Any amount you can donate will bring me one step closer to healing. And if you can’t donate, sharing my story means the world to me. Visibility can be just as powerful as money.

This isn’t just about a surgery. It’s about survival. It’s about finally living without the burden of someone else’s mistake. It’s about looking in the mirror and seeing the girl I should have been all along.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Thank you for caring. And thank you for helping me believe in a future where I can be whole.

With all my heart,

Cyersten Collins