Help Zoe Access Gender-Affirming Surgery

Hi, I’m Zoe.

I’m a trans woman, a mother, a spouse, and an advocate. I’m also someone who just wants to live fully and freely in her body.

For over four years, I’ve lived as myself. That journey hasn’t been easy but it’s been worth everything. I’ve found joy, love, community, and purpose. But there’s one part of me I’ve never had the chance to bring into alignment. And I’m asking for help now, not just to survive but to finally live.

Why I'm Asking for Help

A year and a half ago, I was pursuing gender-affirming surgery through my insurance. But South Carolina passed H.4624 — a cruel law that made it legal for my insurer to discriminate against me. That door slammed shut.

Now, the only path forward is to fund this care out-of-pocket. I’ve found a highly respected provider in Thailand. My surgery is scheduled for October 15th, 2025. But I can’t do this alone. I’m turning to the same community I’ve fought for because, now, I need you to fight for me.

I’ve Spent Two Years Fighting for Others

For the last two years, I’ve been on the frontlines of the LGBTQIA+ rights movement in South Carolina.

I’ve stood in the statehouse, again and again: testifying, organizing, and resisting.

I’ve fought to block anti-trans legislation.

I’ve fought to protect queer youth.

I’ve fought because we all deserve to live with dignity, safety, and joy.

I never thought I’d be the one asking for help like this. But being an advocate has taught me that the strongest thing we can do is lean on each other.

I’ve always believed in showing up for my community. I’ve marched, organized, testified, and stayed up nights planning strategy for bills that were never meant to see us survive. But survival is not the end goal. We deserve life. Rich, joyful, embodied life.

This surgery is not cosmetic. It is not elective. It is life-saving. It is the difference between living in exile and living in alignment. And like so many of us in the South, I’m being forced to go outside the country just to access basic, affirming healthcare.

I’m asking, not as a stranger, but as someone who’s shown up when the call went out. If you can give, I’m grateful. If you can share, I’m grateful. We are stronger together. And this is one of those moments where mutual aid isn’t just financial, it’s sacred.

You may have seen me at the statehouse: at the mic, in the gallery, or walking the halls with fire in my eyes and trans joy in my bones. You’ve seen me speak against anti-trans legislation and fight for the freedom of every queer kid to just be.

Now, I’m fighting for my own freedom.

This isn’t abstract. This isn’t a policy debate. This is what happens when state-sanctioned discrimination becomes personal. When a bill like H.4624 strips a woman like me of access to medically necessary care.

I have done the work. Now I need your help to get across the finish line.

What This Surgery Means to Me

My gender dysphoria is no longer constant but it lingers. It shows up in quiet moments. In swimsuits that cling. In beach days that should be joyous but aren’t. It’s this one last barrier keeping me from feeling whole in my own skin.

This surgery will let me:

Swim again without fear

Move through the world without discomfort

Strengthen my relationship with my spouse

Experience freedom without pain or hyper-awareness

It’s hard to describe what it means to not have to think about your body. That’s what I’m chasing. A life where I’m just Zoe. No caveats. No corrections. No compromises.

I don’t like asking for help. I’d rather be the one organizing the spreadsheet, building the website, showing up early with coffee for the cause. But this time… it’s me. And I’m scared. But I’m also hopeful.

Because I know what community can do.

I’ve watched trans people move mountains for one another when the world told us to disappear. I’ve watched us create lifelines from scratch. This fundraiser is my lifeline. And I’m reaching for it.

There’s a particular kind of grief that comes from not being able to return to the sea. I grew up loving water. It used to calm me. But now, swimming feels like exposure. The ocean reminds me of what I’m not allowed to forget.

This surgery will let me return to the water.

It will let me sink beneath the waves and feel peace again. It will let me be present. Not performing, not hiding, not shrinking. Just there. Whole.

That’s what I’m asking for. Wholeness.

The Cost

I’m starting with a goal of $5,000, but the full cost breakdown looks like this:

$17,000 – Surgery and hospital stay

$3,500 – Flights for me and my spouse

$1,200 – Accommodations in Thailand

$225 – Required psych evaluation (not covered under discriminatory policy)

Additional funds needed for recovery time, food, and travel flexibility

I am budgeting as carefully as possible but I can’t do this without help. Every donation, every share, every comment brings me closer to finally being home in my body.

A Note of Gratitude

I’m beyond grateful to my friend Kenni, who’s helping manage this fundraiser, and to my partner Deborah, whose love and devotion have carried me through even the hardest days. I’ll be sharing updates throughout this journey because this isn’t just about surgery, it’s about survival, wholeness, and a future I finally believe I deserve.

If you believe that trans lives are worth protecting…

If you believe that dignity should never be legislated away…

If you’ve ever been helped by someone else’s courage…

I hope you’ll help me now.

With love, with fire, with gratitude,

Zoe