For almost a decade, I’ve spent my life in and out of doctor’s offices. They’ve never been my favorite place. The piercing, sterile smell that hits your nose as you walk through the door and the lack of color on the walls have never been fond memories. However, even my prepubescent brain could appreciate the elaborate fish tanks.
Growing up, I felt like my list of ailments was evergreen, with no end in sight. After I had gotten my first period, my trips to the doctor went from once or twice a year to every other month. The constant strain of my sleep disorder, psoriasis, acne, period cramps, headaches, diabetes, stomach aches, anxiety, depression, unexplained weight gain, and a host of other issues had caused me to believe that everyone was always slightly uncomfortable and hurting in some way.
Then, when I was 15, I unknowingly went to the appointment that changed everything.
After running a plethora of blood tests, the doctor concluded that I had Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (more commonly referred to as PCOS).
I remember the exact moment that my heart plummeted until the only thing remaining was a hollow pit in my chest. I felt some relief, though, knowing now that I finally had a name for what was causing me so much pain. Even though PCOS is very common in women, having another name to tack onto my identity that I knew nothing about, was terrifying.
What came after that could only be best described as a slow-motion tornado of more doctors and specialists appointments over the next three years. Following this was a host of experimenting with different medication combinations to see how to balance my hormones and symptoms without making me feel like a brain-dead zombie.
For a while, my life finally felt like it was on the up, with a sparkling glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, I might feel “normal.”
But when I was researching my new diagnosis, I came across many articles detailing the possibility of not being able to have access to some of my life-saving medications due to recently drafted legislation at both the state and national levels.
I remember initially feeling so confused and frustrated. All of the politicians backing this legislation were detailing the horrific effects of providing “gender-affirming care” to minors and even adults. Outlandish quotes detailing regretful stories of individuals who had hormonally transitioned were plastered on the websites.
That brought me to the question, what is “gender-affirming care”? Based on the definition alone, growing out my hair, even as a cisgender woman, is considered a gender-affirming action. Similarly, a guy putting on basketball shorts instead of a skirt to appear more masculine is considered an act of gender affirmation.
It is so ridiculous that so many people absorb this type of fear-mongering by politicians. The extreme polarization of political parties has erased any hope of working together towards a somewhat sane conversation regarding topics of fundamental human rights, such as access to life-saving medications and primary healthcare.
The blatant transphobia is out of control. Not only should medical care be up to the medical professionals with years of education and knowledge instead of politicians backing whatever political agenda will gain them the most money and influence, but their extreme fear and misuse of power are now affecting those outside their targeted group. It is dangerous, and many doctors and respected members of the medical field have been voicing their disagreement with proven studies and research.
Many argue that this legislation genre only affects minors, which is easily proven false. In recent months, more bills have been circulating attempting to stop gender-affirming care to anyone under the age of 26. This proves that people will only ever want more once you give in. If I had had to wait until I was 26 to start treatment for my PCOS, I might not have made it that long.
Modern transphobia has gotten so extreme that it is now affecting hundreds of thousands of women with PCOS, in addition to the transgender community, which has been under attack for centuries. The next time you go to vote, keep in mind that the same people who are in office right now and plan on running might be why your aunt, sister, grandma, or mom are at risk of not having access to life-saving care.
Let me be very clear: my life is not your political agenda.