FTM Chest Reconstruction TopSurgery
Donation protected
Hi, my name is Lucas, I'm a 17 year old trans man and I need your help. I'm currently seeking medical treatment for my gender dysphoria. I started HRT October 28th, 2014. Even though this is a huge step towards feeling comfortable with myself, it is not enough.
I'm currently saving up for top surgery a procedure which will take me one step closer to my goal of confort. This is where you come in. I need your help raising the funds. So if you can spare a dollar or even a few cents I will be forever greatful.
MY STORY:
I thought I was a boy until I was about 7 or 8. Until that point I was no different from any other little boy. Of course my mom dressed me in different clothes and I had different hair, but I just figured that that was just a “for now” thing. It never occurred to me that I might NOT grow up to be a boy. My expectation, when I forecasted into the future, was that I would develop something between my legs and become a man. That didn’t happen, and as I was getting a little older other kids, grandparents, parents and other adults began to go out of their way to assure me that I was a girl. As if my tomboy persona was a product of feeling insecure about my looks or something… I played sports avidly instead of playing with dolls. I played with the boys, not with girls. I also spent my free time running around in my forested backyard, where I would narrate my fantasy escapades as a young man. Nearing the end of elementary school I started acting “girly”. I did so to please my mother. I could see very clearly that she was growing concerned… her daughter was so “boyish” and I overheard her comment to a friend on the phone that she was waiting for me to “grow out of it”. I began to put on girls clothes. I observed other girls just as a researcher observes his subjects and tried to imitate and understand female mannerism, likes, inflections etc. I was taken “under the wing” of a group of popular girls who rejoiced in the idea of having a Cinderella to prepare for the grade 7 end of year dance. They asked a boy to go with me and everything. I was still shaky in my “female acting” skills at this point, so the entire experience was draining. I left the dance halfway through, crying from exhaustion and confusion. The boy I went with was a nice guy, my childhood friend actually. But while dancing with him I couldn’t help but strain my mind trying to figure out why I couldn’t be like him and the other boys I had grown up with. Why was HE dancing with ME while I was in a dress and he was in suit?
I’ve moved on to high school under the self-assurance that I was going to “get over” this innate maleness I felt. I decided that I would deny and block out those feelings until they went away. I resolved that I would be “normal”. My “female facade” became a disembodied state. I would go into “female mode” and I would just go through the motions of what I thought people wanted me to do and what people expected from me. I would flirt, I would talk about things I hadn’t the slightest interest in, I would walk differently and I would talk differently. I daren’t express anything that was “me”, lest I be discovered. I felt as though I was a man in drag trying to pass as female. I’m always fearful and always acting. It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable with my looks. In fact I thought I make an attractive girl. However when I look in the mirror I saw a attractive girl, I didn’t see ME. I wanted to be a women VERY badly. I wanted to just fit into my birth sex and body. I can’t explain how hard I’ve tried to be a girl. But the fact at the end of the day was that I just… am not girl. Regardless, I just kept trying harder. I figured that I could force it out of myself through continuous denial of self and establishment of a proper persona that could carry me through life until I got over this “phase”.
I would come home from school or outings, exhausted from a day of acting, and I would instantly change into different clothes and let go of my female facade. Of course I couldn’t really show that to my family either, so I would lock myself away in my room and go on my computer or watch TV with my brother. I would also go on frequent 2-3 hour walks where I would again, narrate and ponder my fantasy life as a young man, like I did when I was young. I was a guy on these walks. I was free on these walks.
My sports were a double-edged sword. I was allowed to act far more masculine in these arenas, which I enjoyed. However I played on primarily FEMALE teams. There was always that that banner hanging over me. I enjoyed my teams, I enjoyed sport and I enjoyed the friendship of the girls I played with… however it always felt deeply uncomfortable. I was pretty popular on the teams, but I always felt like I was invading a female space when I walked into the change room. When our coach came in and addressed us as “ladies” I would look around nervously. I think I half-expected someone to point and scream at the facial hair I didn’t have or the masculine build that (again) I didn’t have. However, I considered this a perversion. Likewise, I considered my attraction to some girls on the hockey team to be a perversion as well. I thought I just had a “sick” mind.
Most of my relationships prior to that one had been shallow. I had a boyfriend as an accessory to prove my femininity and I treated my body like a sex doll within these relationships. I was disembodied from myself, so I had no respect for myself. I didn’t have intercourse, but I didn’t base my decision to engage on attraction. I did the actions instead, because I was building a social facade.
I realized my sexuality at 4am in the morning one day. It was like a bolt of lightning hit me. I was in love with a girl, and for the first time in my life I wasn’t putting up a wall against these feelings. I asked her out that very same day, and from that point the facade and walls I had built began to come tumbling down at an accelerated rate. In this relationship I wasn’t delegated to the part of “woman”. In this lesbian relationship gender dynamics and gender identity seemed to be more freely negotiable. She was (and is to this day, I’m sure) feminine, so I happily took on the role of the “masculine”. I figured that we were the classic butch/femme lesbian couple and this worked well enough for about a year and a half. All the while I found myself becoming more and more myself… and this “self” was undeniably male. I still wasn’t prepared for that truth, though.
During one of my rough times with her, she commented that she wanted to be with a guy. This hurt me more than I can ever put into words and at the time I couldn’t quite grasp why. “Why can’t I be that guy for you?” My mind screamed. It wasn’t the notion of the possible loss of the relationship that hurt me (although that did hurt me indeed)… rather it was the notion that I was NOT a guy. This comment brought me in direct opposition with my deepest self, and in turn forced me to face the fact that this comment had hurt me so deeply because I was, indeed, a guy.
I met a transguy one summer, and the two of us found a lot in common with each other. But after I found out that he was a transguy I began to speak pugnaciously about him. I essentially alluded to him as a liar, and I felt a deep stirring of discomfort and anger within me. I would soon discover that that anger, discomfort and belligerent opinion was all spawned from what can be described only as jealousy. My subconscious reaction was: ”Why does HE get that freedom when I’M stuck in here!?” My girlfriend, at the time, called me out on my bullcrap, and I was left feeling like an asshole and knowing that I wanted what this transguy had.
After that month of research and introspection, I came to the same conclusion over and over again. I was at the center of the Earth now. There was nothing else there. There was no way around it. I was male. I sat back from my computer and started crying. I cried tear that were happy, sad, angry, scared, frustrated, hopefully. I cried all the tears, basically. I came out to my at the time girlfriend formally, and then I started the process of coming out to everyone. My mother will not accept it, and I don’t tell the teachers or adults around me, because they still look at me funny.
But I am happy to say that my friends have supported me through this. My father OK’d me for Testosterone, and I am now 8 months on T.
Thank you for your time and donations.
I'm currently saving up for top surgery a procedure which will take me one step closer to my goal of confort. This is where you come in. I need your help raising the funds. So if you can spare a dollar or even a few cents I will be forever greatful.
MY STORY:
I thought I was a boy until I was about 7 or 8. Until that point I was no different from any other little boy. Of course my mom dressed me in different clothes and I had different hair, but I just figured that that was just a “for now” thing. It never occurred to me that I might NOT grow up to be a boy. My expectation, when I forecasted into the future, was that I would develop something between my legs and become a man. That didn’t happen, and as I was getting a little older other kids, grandparents, parents and other adults began to go out of their way to assure me that I was a girl. As if my tomboy persona was a product of feeling insecure about my looks or something… I played sports avidly instead of playing with dolls. I played with the boys, not with girls. I also spent my free time running around in my forested backyard, where I would narrate my fantasy escapades as a young man. Nearing the end of elementary school I started acting “girly”. I did so to please my mother. I could see very clearly that she was growing concerned… her daughter was so “boyish” and I overheard her comment to a friend on the phone that she was waiting for me to “grow out of it”. I began to put on girls clothes. I observed other girls just as a researcher observes his subjects and tried to imitate and understand female mannerism, likes, inflections etc. I was taken “under the wing” of a group of popular girls who rejoiced in the idea of having a Cinderella to prepare for the grade 7 end of year dance. They asked a boy to go with me and everything. I was still shaky in my “female acting” skills at this point, so the entire experience was draining. I left the dance halfway through, crying from exhaustion and confusion. The boy I went with was a nice guy, my childhood friend actually. But while dancing with him I couldn’t help but strain my mind trying to figure out why I couldn’t be like him and the other boys I had grown up with. Why was HE dancing with ME while I was in a dress and he was in suit?
I’ve moved on to high school under the self-assurance that I was going to “get over” this innate maleness I felt. I decided that I would deny and block out those feelings until they went away. I resolved that I would be “normal”. My “female facade” became a disembodied state. I would go into “female mode” and I would just go through the motions of what I thought people wanted me to do and what people expected from me. I would flirt, I would talk about things I hadn’t the slightest interest in, I would walk differently and I would talk differently. I daren’t express anything that was “me”, lest I be discovered. I felt as though I was a man in drag trying to pass as female. I’m always fearful and always acting. It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable with my looks. In fact I thought I make an attractive girl. However when I look in the mirror I saw a attractive girl, I didn’t see ME. I wanted to be a women VERY badly. I wanted to just fit into my birth sex and body. I can’t explain how hard I’ve tried to be a girl. But the fact at the end of the day was that I just… am not girl. Regardless, I just kept trying harder. I figured that I could force it out of myself through continuous denial of self and establishment of a proper persona that could carry me through life until I got over this “phase”.
I would come home from school or outings, exhausted from a day of acting, and I would instantly change into different clothes and let go of my female facade. Of course I couldn’t really show that to my family either, so I would lock myself away in my room and go on my computer or watch TV with my brother. I would also go on frequent 2-3 hour walks where I would again, narrate and ponder my fantasy life as a young man, like I did when I was young. I was a guy on these walks. I was free on these walks.
My sports were a double-edged sword. I was allowed to act far more masculine in these arenas, which I enjoyed. However I played on primarily FEMALE teams. There was always that that banner hanging over me. I enjoyed my teams, I enjoyed sport and I enjoyed the friendship of the girls I played with… however it always felt deeply uncomfortable. I was pretty popular on the teams, but I always felt like I was invading a female space when I walked into the change room. When our coach came in and addressed us as “ladies” I would look around nervously. I think I half-expected someone to point and scream at the facial hair I didn’t have or the masculine build that (again) I didn’t have. However, I considered this a perversion. Likewise, I considered my attraction to some girls on the hockey team to be a perversion as well. I thought I just had a “sick” mind.
Most of my relationships prior to that one had been shallow. I had a boyfriend as an accessory to prove my femininity and I treated my body like a sex doll within these relationships. I was disembodied from myself, so I had no respect for myself. I didn’t have intercourse, but I didn’t base my decision to engage on attraction. I did the actions instead, because I was building a social facade.
I realized my sexuality at 4am in the morning one day. It was like a bolt of lightning hit me. I was in love with a girl, and for the first time in my life I wasn’t putting up a wall against these feelings. I asked her out that very same day, and from that point the facade and walls I had built began to come tumbling down at an accelerated rate. In this relationship I wasn’t delegated to the part of “woman”. In this lesbian relationship gender dynamics and gender identity seemed to be more freely negotiable. She was (and is to this day, I’m sure) feminine, so I happily took on the role of the “masculine”. I figured that we were the classic butch/femme lesbian couple and this worked well enough for about a year and a half. All the while I found myself becoming more and more myself… and this “self” was undeniably male. I still wasn’t prepared for that truth, though.
During one of my rough times with her, she commented that she wanted to be with a guy. This hurt me more than I can ever put into words and at the time I couldn’t quite grasp why. “Why can’t I be that guy for you?” My mind screamed. It wasn’t the notion of the possible loss of the relationship that hurt me (although that did hurt me indeed)… rather it was the notion that I was NOT a guy. This comment brought me in direct opposition with my deepest self, and in turn forced me to face the fact that this comment had hurt me so deeply because I was, indeed, a guy.
I met a transguy one summer, and the two of us found a lot in common with each other. But after I found out that he was a transguy I began to speak pugnaciously about him. I essentially alluded to him as a liar, and I felt a deep stirring of discomfort and anger within me. I would soon discover that that anger, discomfort and belligerent opinion was all spawned from what can be described only as jealousy. My subconscious reaction was: ”Why does HE get that freedom when I’M stuck in here!?” My girlfriend, at the time, called me out on my bullcrap, and I was left feeling like an asshole and knowing that I wanted what this transguy had.
After that month of research and introspection, I came to the same conclusion over and over again. I was at the center of the Earth now. There was nothing else there. There was no way around it. I was male. I sat back from my computer and started crying. I cried tear that were happy, sad, angry, scared, frustrated, hopefully. I cried all the tears, basically. I came out to my at the time girlfriend formally, and then I started the process of coming out to everyone. My mother will not accept it, and I don’t tell the teachers or adults around me, because they still look at me funny.
But I am happy to say that my friends have supported me through this. My father OK’d me for Testosterone, and I am now 8 months on T.
Thank you for your time and donations.
Organizer
Lucas Wilson
Organizer
Mooresville, NC