Help Hise Pay For Top Surgery

Hello! For those who prefer a TLDR, here it is. A longer section is after for those who like to read~:

Who: Me! Hiseumin Go/Hise/Heather (please only use if close friends or family) (they/them).

What: I’m getting Top Surgery to finally feel more comfortable in my body, and I need a little help.

Where: Froedtert MCW.

When: November 2025 (but I need to pay by October).

Why: I’m Genderfluid. I don’t feel fully female and I don’t feel fully male—I’m somewhere in between—and my large breasts cause a great amount of dysphoria as well as physical discomfort.

Note: I'm offering art in exchange for donations! My commissions are open, but if you donate $50, whether here or directly through PayPal, Venmo, or CashApp, you can screenshot your donation to me and I will treat it as a small art commission in my clean rendered style as a thanks for supporting me. See my normal commission rates, samples of art, and more on my website, or consider pledging to my Patreon.

For those who prefer something more long-winded, I have included some background and insight to share with the curious. Thank you again for taking a moment to look at this page and consider me in kindness.

My name is Heather. I prefer to go by Hiseumin/Hise online. By day, I’m a warehouse associate and administrative troubleshooter, by night, I’m an artist and aspiring author. I’m a cat-parent, lover of art, stories, writing, cosplay, and much more. I am Genderfluid and use they/them pronouns.

Last year, I took a big leap in my life’s journey by starting the process of getting approved for a surgery I've been wanting for many years. After making necessary appointments, finding and meeting with a surgeon, OBGYN, therapist, and more to get to this point, I have scheduled Top Surgery for this November.

It is the most surreal feeling I've ever had, knowing I will finally get what I've wished for for so long. Before all of this, I spent a lot of time waiting, stalling, and thinking that I needed to accomplish more in my life before I was allowed to have this surgery. For some reason, I didn’t think I deserved to be happy until I earned it, but who decides when I’ve done enough? Who finally gives me permission to do something I’ve wanted to do for so long? It’s one of the scariest decisions I’ve ever made, but I know it will improve my quality of life unlike anything else.

To put all of this simply, I’m not a girl. I don’t feel like a girl. I’m not a boy. I don’t feel like a boy. My role, my identity, my existence doesn’t align with all of the things “girl” or “boy” means in this time and age. I was the kid who wanted to be the prince AND the princess. Still do. I had a weird feeling about gender-ed things. I liked playing with the same games and toys as my brothers or helping my dad with car stuff, as minor as it was, but I also loved my princesses and musicals and Barbies and doing crafts and makeup and sewing and baking with my mom. I didn’t like being limited to just one thing and was especially tired of feeling like I could only look the way other people wanted me to.

Sure, my reproductive organs tell a cut-and-dry story, but when it comes to self-expression, being myself, and showing on the outside who I am on the inside, I feel different and have felt that way for many years. It wasn’t until 2015 in High School that I found the name that represented me best. I was doing what any teenager in the early 2010’s was doing: surfing the web. I dove in and came out with a word that described what I was feeling to a T. Sex was always something I didn’t care about defining. If I loved someone, I loved them. Good people are good people. Gender was a completely different realm and it called to me. Genderfluid. One or the other or both or nothing. I resonated with that term and everything it implied. I felt fluid. I wanted to look like everything and nothing. That’s how I’ve always felt.

Genderfluid described me and everything I was confused about and resentful of. It proved to me that these feelings are real. This isn’t a choice. It is an undeniable truth, a feeling I’ve had for as long as I can remember, a part of me that’s caused me agony wondering why I couldn’t be alright just being what others wanted me to be.

To put dysphoria simply for those looking to understand, it’s like a bad haircut. Hair is so important for so many people. When you get a bad haircut, it can crush you. That haircut isn’t you… it’s not what you really look like, not what you were going for, and you don’t feel right even if you put a hat on it or try to style it differently or put on a wig... You don’t look like you and you feel even less like yourself.

For a time, I also wondered if my weight was the source of my discomfort and quickly came to the conclusion that I was not suffering from dysmorphia in this case, no matter how much I disliked being overweight and feeling like I had no control over myself. I was experiencing dysphoria and imagined myself looking different inside than I did outside.

For nearly a decade, I have been waiting for the day I could get rid of my breasts and finally start looking like myself. I am beyond ecstatic and very nervous. I have never undergone a surgical procedure, but this is so worth it.

My insurance does not cover or even consider Gender-Affirming Care, so I am left to pay out-of-pocket for this procedure. Something in me knew it would come to this, though I had hoped it wouldn’t, so I’m here. I would like nothing more than to pay for this all on my own and celebrate with my loved ones after the fact, but I need help to make my dream come true. I am going as far as I can with saving from my paycheck, but to reach the remaining balance, I need to raise money. I am asking for your support. Top Surgery, also known as a Bilateral Mastectomy, is a procedure that takes about 3 to 3.5 hours to complete. Hospital expenses, surgeon’s fees, and recovery needs are going to cost a pretty penny.

Finances are a struggle for many people these days, I understand that too well, but I would like to ask for any amount of help. My goal is to reach $4,000 through GoFundMe, commissions, selling items, and anything else I can do by October 2025. This amount should be enough to cover the remaining cost that I can’t cover from my own paycheck, food and other, if otherwise, unexpected medical expenses for the 6-weeks of recovery included. I tried to account for most of the cost myself as I do not enjoy asking for help, but I am, to an extent, desperate. A year’s worth of intense saving is almost enough for the $10K fee, but I need a little push to cross the finish line.

I’m extremely lucky to have friends who respect, support, and see me as I am. I am thankful for the family members who continue to love me, use my pronouns, and incorporate me in their lives. To the people who put up with my snarkiness and cynicism regarding pride, because I was envious of those who felt like this and were accepted, I’m sorry, and thank you. I want the focus off my tits and on ME.

Thank you for taking the time to read.

Some Acknowledgements:

I can’t begin to thank these people enough for showing me such goodness when I was afraid to say what I felt inside. I hope this small acknowledgment can bridge the gap between my chronic silence and my appreciation for everything you do to make me feel safe to be me.

I’m not an activist. I don’t specialize in social justice or being liberal or even political, but I know good people when I see them and I want everyone to live their truth and be kind to the fullest extent.

Thank you to:

…My friends, family, and strangers who've taken up the mantle in helping me and people like me.

…Mrs. Mazza, who's probably the first adult I ever came out to at school. She accepted me and helped fit me for a tuxedo I would use for the remainder of my high school band career. I am so grateful to her for opening that space and allowing me room to be myself while the terrors of teenage life raged on.

…My sister-in-law who I came out to unintentionally as a result of my teenage cynicism. It was my first sign that maybe some day it’d be okay for me to be honest with my family.

…My sister, the first person I told in my family, who promised to love me and be there for me when I needed it and never let me down. I'll never forget the kindness and I’ll never forget those phone calls.

…My cousin, who used Mx. as my prefix on her wedding invitation. My first piece of mail with that prefix which my cousins and brother followed suit down the road.

…My aunt, who didn’t blink an eye when I explained my feelings and instead offered to help me. Her kindness is abounding and I would model myself after her.

To the considerate strangers, to the friends in passing, to my best friends on and offline...

Thank you.