Leo‘s Top Surgery Fund
Donation protected
Howdy! My name is Leo and I need your help!
I will explain a bit more about myself and my personal journey below, but the TL;DR is this:
- After multiple distressing and invalidating denials from other less-inclusive providers, I am absolutely ecstatic that I have finally been approved for top-surgery by my new insurance.
- My surgery is scheduled for July 21, 2020 with Dr. Scott Mosser at the Gender Confirmation Center in San Francisco, CA. I could not be more excited about finally getting this literal weight off my chest and being able to look in the mirror and finally see a body that more closely resembles the one I was always meant to have. But, $4,000 is a whole lot of money and so I’m swallowing my pride and asking my community for help.
- Transitioning is an extremely difficult and deeply personal experience, so honestly, it’s pretty uncomfortable to have to ask friends, family members, and complete strangers to help you pay for part of it. But, hey, that’s where I’m at.
- Honestly, the promise of one day being able to have this surgery saved my life when I came out to myself as trans. I knew that if I could get to this point, I’d be okay. But, like thousands of other trans & non-binary people out there, I need help paying for a surgery that will allow me to finally wake up everyday and see my true self in the mirror.
- If you have some change to spare, I’d appreciate it more than you know. If you don’t, it would be amazing if you could share the link. I’m not unique in this struggle, but I’m here and I’m asking you to see me.
Medical details:
- Procedure: Double, simple, complete mastectomy
- Date: July 21, 2020
- Expected Out-Of-Pocket Cost (this is what I am going to owe the doctor after insurance, estimated by his office & to be collected at pre-op appointment on June 22, 2020): $4,000 (Dr. Mosser Fees $2000 + Facility Fees $2,000)
More details about the costs associated with the surgery from the surgeon's website:
(https://www.genderconfirmation.com/about-us/fees-and-financing/)
- Consultations before and follow-up appointments after surgery
- Surgeon’s Fee
- Operating room fees
- Anesthesia fee
- Postoperative garments
My story...
I am 23 years old and I currently work at a social impact tech startup in San Francisco, CA and live with my incredible partner and our two dogs in Menlo Park. I am passionate about criminal justice reform, domestic and international politics, LGBTQIA+ advocacy, and photography/digital media.
I was born in the small southern college-town of Gainesville, Florida. I was born the youngest of three daughters and my older sisters were very quick to embrace their femininity from a young age, so my parents were probably pretty confused when I threw a temper tantrum every time they tried to put me in a dress for church on Sundays. I distinctly remember my grandma buying me a pretty princess gown and crown for my dress up-themed birthday party and my mom making me wear it so I didn't hurt grandma's feelings. To my 5 or 6 year old self it truly felt like the end of the world – all I wanted was to wear my ninja costume and play with the plastic sword! I'm pretty sure I wore that costume every Halloween for the next four years (yikes).
I was always a "tom boy" – hating anything associated with traditional femininity (read: anything with even a hint of pink or sparkles, refusing to wear my hair in anything but a low pony tail, begging my mom to let me wear capri shorts instead of dresses or skirts, playing football with the boys at recess, the list goes on). I even went as far as to force my way onto my tiny catholic high school's boy's varsity football team. But, at that point in my life, I hadn't even let myself consider the possibility that I really WAS different. My ~different-ness~ was interpreted and celebrated as some sort of strong feminist statement of resistance of the patriarchy. I think I thought it was too tbh. In reality, I just didn't have words for what I was experiencing.
I had had a fear so deep within my heart and soul for so long that someone might think that I was gay that I overcompensated for my "masculine" tendencies (ex: playing with "boy" toys like fake guns or swords, hating pink, being obsessed with everything football related, loving the outdoors and rough-housing in the dirt) by starting to wear dresses and makeup, straightening my hair every morning before putting on my school-mandated uniform consisting of a quintessential plaid catholic schoolgirl skort & knee-high socks, fastening a huge pink bow in my hair, wearing dresses and high heels to fancy events, going shopping at Victoria's Secret, blah blah blah. Always wondering why doing all of these things felt a bit off. Felt, disingenuous. It felt like I was doing these things to prove to OTHER people that I was just like them, even when I hated every second of it.
When I finally came to the realization that I was gay I was terrified. When I finally accepted that I was gay I was even more terrified. It was my senior year at my extremely conservative high school and right around the time I turned 18. It was also around that time my depression got really bad and it was really scary and just a generally really dark time for me. It was tough, but I asked for help. I went to see a psychiatrist with my mom and was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I started taking anti-depressants and seeing a psychiatrist regularly, and after a few months was stable enough and comfortable enough in my own skin to come out to my family. They accepted me and worked hard to be respectful of this new aspect of my identity. A few months later I came out to my best friend, who accepted me without any hesitation. Right before graduation, I was finally able to come out to some of my other friends and classmates. Some didn't believe me at first because they had gone to school with me for so long and had seen me date boys and there were really only one or two other kids "out" at school, so it was sort of foreign and (not-surprisingly) a VERY taboo subject. I actually skipped my senior prom because my school required all female students to wear dresses. I gave in and wore the required dress for graduation but I think that might have actually been the last time I've worn a dress lol. Anyways, we all said our goodbyes and moved onto the new chapters in our lives.
I had worked hard and got into a good college. In Vermont, while I continued to work hard to stay in school, I still felt like something was off. My sophomore year I came out to myself, yet again, as queer & non-binary. I requested that my friends and family begin using they/them pronouns and refer to me as Lex instead of Lexie (the nickname I'd had since I was born).
It took me a while, a lot of processing, a lot of exploration and education, a lot of tears and fear and long conversations, and really just TIME. A lot of time to work through all of my internalized homophobia and transphobia. To unlearn all of the norms that society had beaten into my head. But, eventually, I was able to look at myself in the mirror and come out to myself, yet again. Third time's the charm right? I was Lex, non-binary and trans-masculine. I knew I wanted to change my body to match my mind, my heart, and my soul – the person inside this skin suite that people thought was the real me. I knew that I wanted to pursue top surgery and hormone replacement therapy (HRT/Testosterone) and I knew that it would be a long process. But I knew it was what was right for me. I haven't looked back since. I haven't regretted it once. No matter how tough it's been. No matter how complicated it has made parts of my life.
That was around my 22nd birthday (October 2018), my senior year of college. Again, the familiar and overwhelming fear of rejection returned. Fear of being rejected for something I could not change, something I could barely understand, something I had JUST found the words for. I was terrified of this being the final straw, having finally asked just a little too much of my loved ones. Asking them to look so far beyond what we are taught to see, to understand, and to embrace as acceptable or good, let alone what we as a society consider worthy of love. I was asking them to see a person that was not yet visible.
Slowly, after six months on testosterone, I myself am finally starting to see that person (and hear that person's voice). I started going by Leo, and went through the process of legally changing my name (it's official as of last week! yay!). It is scary at times. Incredibly scary. To watch your face and body change right before your eyes? It's honestly trippy as hell. But it's also incredible. Going through puberty sucks, let alone doing it twice, but seeing the person you were always meant to see in the mirror slowly grow in front of you is truly amazing. Thinking to myself "huh, this is what would have happened/what it would have felt like in middle school/high school/college if I had been born in the right body" is WILD. And I am so incredibly lucky to be able to experience that – because, unsurprisingly, a large portion of trans/non-binary people who want to medically transition simply can't afford to.
I distinctly remember being a young kid and "praying" to Santa Claus to make me a boy for Christmas. If only it were that easy! Really, no matter who you are, medically transitioning is an extremely difficult process, requiring lots of doctors appointments, psychological evaluations and medical letters of support, spare time, spare money, having available/knowledgable/supportive doctors (within driving distance), having supportive loved ones willing to do the work of educating themselves on LGBTQIA+ issues, understanding and empathetic employers, a flexible work schedule, the list goes on.
Long story short, I finally got to start HRT (I inject .25 ml of testosterone cypionate via a 25 gauge needle into my thigh every Saturday morning) on August 10, 2019 and about two weeks ago my insurance agreed to cover the majority of the cost of my top surgery.
It sounds cheesy as hell but I am asking you, whoever happens to be reading this, to help me make my dreams a reality.
Even just sharing this fundraiser link on your social media has the potential to help change my life.
I appreciate all of you more than you will ever know.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Best,
Leo
P.S. If any of you have any questions about testosterone, top surgery, transitioning, LGBTQIA+ allyship, my personal experience, etc. please don't hesitate to reach out to me - my email is [email redacted]!
I will explain a bit more about myself and my personal journey below, but the TL;DR is this:
- After multiple distressing and invalidating denials from other less-inclusive providers, I am absolutely ecstatic that I have finally been approved for top-surgery by my new insurance.
- My surgery is scheduled for July 21, 2020 with Dr. Scott Mosser at the Gender Confirmation Center in San Francisco, CA. I could not be more excited about finally getting this literal weight off my chest and being able to look in the mirror and finally see a body that more closely resembles the one I was always meant to have. But, $4,000 is a whole lot of money and so I’m swallowing my pride and asking my community for help.
- Transitioning is an extremely difficult and deeply personal experience, so honestly, it’s pretty uncomfortable to have to ask friends, family members, and complete strangers to help you pay for part of it. But, hey, that’s where I’m at.
- Honestly, the promise of one day being able to have this surgery saved my life when I came out to myself as trans. I knew that if I could get to this point, I’d be okay. But, like thousands of other trans & non-binary people out there, I need help paying for a surgery that will allow me to finally wake up everyday and see my true self in the mirror.
- If you have some change to spare, I’d appreciate it more than you know. If you don’t, it would be amazing if you could share the link. I’m not unique in this struggle, but I’m here and I’m asking you to see me.
Medical details:
- Procedure: Double, simple, complete mastectomy
- Date: July 21, 2020
- Expected Out-Of-Pocket Cost (this is what I am going to owe the doctor after insurance, estimated by his office & to be collected at pre-op appointment on June 22, 2020): $4,000 (Dr. Mosser Fees $2000 + Facility Fees $2,000)
More details about the costs associated with the surgery from the surgeon's website:
(https://www.genderconfirmation.com/about-us/fees-and-financing/)
- Consultations before and follow-up appointments after surgery
- Surgeon’s Fee
- Operating room fees
- Anesthesia fee
- Postoperative garments
My story...
I am 23 years old and I currently work at a social impact tech startup in San Francisco, CA and live with my incredible partner and our two dogs in Menlo Park. I am passionate about criminal justice reform, domestic and international politics, LGBTQIA+ advocacy, and photography/digital media.
I was born in the small southern college-town of Gainesville, Florida. I was born the youngest of three daughters and my older sisters were very quick to embrace their femininity from a young age, so my parents were probably pretty confused when I threw a temper tantrum every time they tried to put me in a dress for church on Sundays. I distinctly remember my grandma buying me a pretty princess gown and crown for my dress up-themed birthday party and my mom making me wear it so I didn't hurt grandma's feelings. To my 5 or 6 year old self it truly felt like the end of the world – all I wanted was to wear my ninja costume and play with the plastic sword! I'm pretty sure I wore that costume every Halloween for the next four years (yikes).
I was always a "tom boy" – hating anything associated with traditional femininity (read: anything with even a hint of pink or sparkles, refusing to wear my hair in anything but a low pony tail, begging my mom to let me wear capri shorts instead of dresses or skirts, playing football with the boys at recess, the list goes on). I even went as far as to force my way onto my tiny catholic high school's boy's varsity football team. But, at that point in my life, I hadn't even let myself consider the possibility that I really WAS different. My ~different-ness~ was interpreted and celebrated as some sort of strong feminist statement of resistance of the patriarchy. I think I thought it was too tbh. In reality, I just didn't have words for what I was experiencing.
I had had a fear so deep within my heart and soul for so long that someone might think that I was gay that I overcompensated for my "masculine" tendencies (ex: playing with "boy" toys like fake guns or swords, hating pink, being obsessed with everything football related, loving the outdoors and rough-housing in the dirt) by starting to wear dresses and makeup, straightening my hair every morning before putting on my school-mandated uniform consisting of a quintessential plaid catholic schoolgirl skort & knee-high socks, fastening a huge pink bow in my hair, wearing dresses and high heels to fancy events, going shopping at Victoria's Secret, blah blah blah. Always wondering why doing all of these things felt a bit off. Felt, disingenuous. It felt like I was doing these things to prove to OTHER people that I was just like them, even when I hated every second of it.
When I finally came to the realization that I was gay I was terrified. When I finally accepted that I was gay I was even more terrified. It was my senior year at my extremely conservative high school and right around the time I turned 18. It was also around that time my depression got really bad and it was really scary and just a generally really dark time for me. It was tough, but I asked for help. I went to see a psychiatrist with my mom and was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I started taking anti-depressants and seeing a psychiatrist regularly, and after a few months was stable enough and comfortable enough in my own skin to come out to my family. They accepted me and worked hard to be respectful of this new aspect of my identity. A few months later I came out to my best friend, who accepted me without any hesitation. Right before graduation, I was finally able to come out to some of my other friends and classmates. Some didn't believe me at first because they had gone to school with me for so long and had seen me date boys and there were really only one or two other kids "out" at school, so it was sort of foreign and (not-surprisingly) a VERY taboo subject. I actually skipped my senior prom because my school required all female students to wear dresses. I gave in and wore the required dress for graduation but I think that might have actually been the last time I've worn a dress lol. Anyways, we all said our goodbyes and moved onto the new chapters in our lives.
I had worked hard and got into a good college. In Vermont, while I continued to work hard to stay in school, I still felt like something was off. My sophomore year I came out to myself, yet again, as queer & non-binary. I requested that my friends and family begin using they/them pronouns and refer to me as Lex instead of Lexie (the nickname I'd had since I was born).
It took me a while, a lot of processing, a lot of exploration and education, a lot of tears and fear and long conversations, and really just TIME. A lot of time to work through all of my internalized homophobia and transphobia. To unlearn all of the norms that society had beaten into my head. But, eventually, I was able to look at myself in the mirror and come out to myself, yet again. Third time's the charm right? I was Lex, non-binary and trans-masculine. I knew I wanted to change my body to match my mind, my heart, and my soul – the person inside this skin suite that people thought was the real me. I knew that I wanted to pursue top surgery and hormone replacement therapy (HRT/Testosterone) and I knew that it would be a long process. But I knew it was what was right for me. I haven't looked back since. I haven't regretted it once. No matter how tough it's been. No matter how complicated it has made parts of my life.
That was around my 22nd birthday (October 2018), my senior year of college. Again, the familiar and overwhelming fear of rejection returned. Fear of being rejected for something I could not change, something I could barely understand, something I had JUST found the words for. I was terrified of this being the final straw, having finally asked just a little too much of my loved ones. Asking them to look so far beyond what we are taught to see, to understand, and to embrace as acceptable or good, let alone what we as a society consider worthy of love. I was asking them to see a person that was not yet visible.
Slowly, after six months on testosterone, I myself am finally starting to see that person (and hear that person's voice). I started going by Leo, and went through the process of legally changing my name (it's official as of last week! yay!). It is scary at times. Incredibly scary. To watch your face and body change right before your eyes? It's honestly trippy as hell. But it's also incredible. Going through puberty sucks, let alone doing it twice, but seeing the person you were always meant to see in the mirror slowly grow in front of you is truly amazing. Thinking to myself "huh, this is what would have happened/what it would have felt like in middle school/high school/college if I had been born in the right body" is WILD. And I am so incredibly lucky to be able to experience that – because, unsurprisingly, a large portion of trans/non-binary people who want to medically transition simply can't afford to.
I distinctly remember being a young kid and "praying" to Santa Claus to make me a boy for Christmas. If only it were that easy! Really, no matter who you are, medically transitioning is an extremely difficult process, requiring lots of doctors appointments, psychological evaluations and medical letters of support, spare time, spare money, having available/knowledgable/supportive doctors (within driving distance), having supportive loved ones willing to do the work of educating themselves on LGBTQIA+ issues, understanding and empathetic employers, a flexible work schedule, the list goes on.
Long story short, I finally got to start HRT (I inject .25 ml of testosterone cypionate via a 25 gauge needle into my thigh every Saturday morning) on August 10, 2019 and about two weeks ago my insurance agreed to cover the majority of the cost of my top surgery.
It sounds cheesy as hell but I am asking you, whoever happens to be reading this, to help me make my dreams a reality.
Even just sharing this fundraiser link on your social media has the potential to help change my life.
I appreciate all of you more than you will ever know.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Best,
Leo
P.S. If any of you have any questions about testosterone, top surgery, transitioning, LGBTQIA+ allyship, my personal experience, etc. please don't hesitate to reach out to me - my email is [email redacted]!
Organizer
Leo Scott
Organizer
Menlo Park, CA