Marco, as you probably know, is our beloved tech goth, and we want to treasure and support him in his transition, with our love but also with our money, so here is an opportunity to toss a few shekels towards top surgery.
When I came out to myself as trans two years ago, one of the first things I said was that while maybe I preferred men’s clothing and haircuts, I (probably) wasn’t “trans enough” to want surgeries or to change my pronouns. Two years later and I’m counting down the days until top surgery and telling people they can call me Marco, and that she/her doesn’t really refer to me anymore, if it ever did. To explain this change, I’ve had to get to know how much we can lie to ourselves in the name of protection from our deepest desires. I’m marveling at how, despite this, the universe, God, Fate, whatever you want to call it, will ask you to awaken to yourself over and over, and how that process is never what you’re expecting. It’s impossible to forecast that type of joy.
Growing up gender non-conforming meant arriving at school, exiting my mom’s car, and immediately hearing a chorus of teasing voices calling out in sing-song unison: “Are you a boy or a girl?” This happened virtually every day from kindergarten to seventh grade, when I developed large breasts that, I guess, answered the question. In all those years, I never had anything to say back and was sort of stumped by the question, if I’m totally honest. In retrospect this fact would become one of hundreds of entries in a circular file called “Definitely Have Been Trans Forever.” Nowadays, I feel like those kids knew something about me, something it would take me 25 more years to figure out, and I now know what my answer would be. These days, when pre-teens stare and jeer and point and laugh, I flip them off, pointing at each in turn saying “Fuck you, fuck you, specifically you.” I’m not sure this is a victory, but it feels better than the stoic silence that was really my own confusion and pain.
Before I was trans, I understood basically nothing about Trans-ness. When I’d see other (visible) transguys, I’d understand them as Queer-like-me-in-some way, and try to offer the same extra friendliness I always extend whenever I see someone in one of my minority in-groups. But privately, transguys made me Nervous. They made some part of me vibrate the same way I’d vibrated in the past when I’d see lesbians in a movie or Ally McBeal making out with Lucy Liu in that one episode. But whereas lesbianism was a complicated morass of feeling both represented but also still weirdly invisible (if turned on) transguys made me nervous in just the opposite way. This wasn’t erotic attraction — though in my internalized transphobicness, I was hoping for a never-to-materialize into-butches phase. It was something else. It was as if their visibility called out to me in a way I couldn’t answer yet, so instead I just got really awkward and had to run out of the coffee shop. It wasn’t a good look.
I wish I could say I suddenly educated myself, or came to my trans-ness through pure self-enlightenment or something, but, in actuality, the Universe still had to drag me along. When my now ex-girlfriend started dating a person she’d probably been cheating with (sorry!), I was extra extra toasted by said person’s gender queerness. I was roasting alive in the fires of jealousy, and finally it got hot enough for me to get serious and ask myself what the heck was really going on. After all, I’d been cheated on before, by people I’d loved more (not sorry!), but this was a whole ‘nother layer of hell. Fortunately, I’d been doing a shit-ton of meditation and inner growth shit, and for the first time in my life I knew what the something else was – it was ENVY! Waking up and throwing up every morning for the past six weeks had suddenly been worth it because I *understood* that I wanted what *redacted* was, not what *redacted* had.
You might think this is when I came out, but you’d be wrong! Despite realizing this, I still refused to identify as trans. I thought that if Trans had been an option to me back in 1997, maybe I would have chosen that instead of Gay, but as it was I was too old and too late for the party. This argument lasted a shockingly long time for such spectacularly shitty logic. It wasn’t until six months later when a dear friend told me about their transition and I heard so much of my story in theirs that something shifted. Maybe I wasn’t too old, maybe I should try?
I wish I could say I suddenly educated myself, or came to my trans-ness through pure self-enlightenment or something, but, in actuality, the Universe still had to drag me along.
Change still came slowly. On a dedicated shopping trip, I crept to the men’s clothing section, remembering how as a teenager I’d been super stoked about men’s Old Navy t-shirts with gaudy, masculine emblems, and how I’d consciously turned away from them when a girl I liked in college called me a “fat, ugly lesbian.” In the men’s section of my local Target, I’d think of things to say to people’s interrogating glares, not out loud, just to myself – “don’t worry, they’ll think you’re shopping for your boyfriend” or “they’ll just think you’re gay.” These thoughts were a comfort and a cut, and made me see how far I’d have to come to learn to actually live with myself.
I spent most of my first year of transition wondering a lot about what it “meant.” As a practicing Buddhist who subscribed to concepts of no-self, non-duality, and universal impermanence, spending so much time fretting that people could see my boobs seemed silly and un-enlightened. Still, it resonated when I read Buddhist mythology referencing Nagas — powerful protective creatures known for their enlightenment, and, oh yeah, tendency to genderbend. As I developed a genuine sense of compassion for myself, a curiosity about myself followed. How could I claim to really want to know myself and deny this kind of lurking truth? How could I ever have the type of relationships centered on connection and seeing one another, when I couldn’t see myself?
Every big step I’ve taken in my transition was a leap of faith that felt like an experiment, with the results always bringing me further into focus to myself. I can’t describe the feeling of seeing myself after each of these changes — men’s clothing, binding, cutting my hair — except to say that it’s the purest, most relieving sense joy I’ve ever felt. It’s made me able to understand why people are happy to be alive with themselves for no reason other than the pleasure of their own company. It’s also highlighted the ways in which the picture is still blurry.
Ready for his Dad Magazine closeup.
When I found out that I’d be eligible for insurance to potentially cover top surgery next year through my partner’s insurance, I was overwhelmed with joy. I was also intimidated by the process of actually accessing those services, which required a process of getting a letter from a therapist and then, somehow, connecting with the surgeon and other doctors I’d need. I began working with a therapist, a requirement for many insurance covered physicians and was relieved that thanks to updated care standards my non-binary identity was a non-issue. What I didn’t expect was for the only doctor covered by our insurance to have horrifying online reviews, and the nightmare results photos on Transbucket, a website for trans people to share surgery results, to back them up. Most of the men who had worked with him wanted revisions and even posted dire warnings – “don’t make the same mistake I did.”
In a move of feigned curiosity that was rife with actual intention, I responded to this bad news by contacting the best surgeon I could find – I loved his results on Transbucket and had first heard of him through good reviews from other nonbinary guys. I figured I had nothing to lose since insurance was out of the question, and maybe somehow it’d be cheaper than I was expecting. When we met on Skype a few days after I contacted his office, he was friendly, thorough, and efficient – exactly what I look for in a surgeon. I was a good candidate, the surgery would most likely not exacerbate my other conditions, and yes, I could have it in two and a half short months. The only downside – the surgery itself was over ten thousand dollars, would not be covered by insurance, and a required a three week stay 2,000 miles away. Faced with the choice between an indefinite postponement that felt like watching a vision of my imagined life shut down like an old-timey projector powering off, and the crystal clear, if impossible to finance, alternative, I baulked and slipped back into a familiar depression.
Growing up in rural poverty and then developing several autoimmune diseases in early adulthood gave me a lot of salty wisdom and also a lot of debt. An adult lifetime of three-times-a-week doctors visits, emergency room copays, and a thousand dollars a month in medical expenses on a good cycle, have eaten whatever disposable income I imagine one uses for creating a savings account. Somehow, even with my negative net worth, I’m still financially better off than many people in my community and I’m damn lucky to even have the jobs that give me money and credit to finance myself into the poor house. But I also know no matter how many times the credit offers I get stress I’ve entered an upper echelon of consumer, with my superior credit score, only one of us is getting rich off a 14% interest rate. Still, no matter how often I’d cite Suze Orman, and how she’d certainly tell me “I could not afford it,” my attention would return again and again to planning, applying for lower interest rates for loans, and cutting expenses. One fateful car drive, when I do all my best thinking, I knew a big part of what I had to do next, and I knew it scared me more than the scalpels. I had to ask for help.
One of the things I didn’t expect about transitioning was how much the process would demand that I let others in. In fact, given Toxic Masculinity (TM), I’d expected just the opposite. For me becoming the transmasculine person I need to be means asking for help – from the Universe, from those who love me, and from those who maybe have never met me but hear something of themselves or a friend in this story. Asking for money doesn’t come easily to me, so I give much gratitude to my friends whose questions hinted perhaps I should make a fundraiser, because, perhaps, they’d like to help.
Tough like The Rock, soft like someone who rejects Toxic Masculinity.
Trans people are surviving in a world that sends a message that we aren’t wanted here, in a million ways, a million times a day. We’re denied healthcare, literally kicked in the back, mocked in public, and denied service — and that’s all just shit that’s happened to me in the past three months. While so many of my fears of what life as a visible trans person is like have been proven true, I never could have imagined the joy I’d feel in being accepted for myself by those who love me. Each time someone affirms my identify by liking my masculine profile photos, using gender neutral or male pronouns, or shuts down transphobic bullshit people are throwing at me, I’m reminded of one of my favorite tumblr posts:
“concept: the universe hears you crying and sings a little song for you. the universe hopes you can hear it”
I want to call back “I can hear it and I am here.”
This was really great. As a straight cis lady, I’ve often wondered what it feels like to realize you’re not those things, but I never wanted to actually ask because I couldn’t formulate my questions in a way that didn’t seem rude and nosy, so I’m really appreciative you wrote this beautiful piece.
(Also, Marco is a great name!)
I agree with every part of this. Also I feel it’s important that you know Marcos get a discount at Marco’s Pizza, should you live near one.
These days, when pre-teens stare and jeer and point and laugh, I flip them off, pointing at each in turn saying “Fuck you, fuck you, specifically you.”
my eyes actually just turned into bulging hearts, no idea how I’m going to finish out the workday
MARCO THIS IS SO GREAT.
Thank you, very much, for sharing your perspective. It’s poignant and funny and straightforward, and I appreciate it.
Also, there are a few people in this piece I’m going to need to meet me behind the woodshed so I can give them a stern talking to, potentially with pointy fingers.
THANK YOU!
While so many of my fears of what life as a visible trans person is like have been proven true, I never could have imagined the joy I’d feel in being accepted for myself by those who love me.
<3333
This was great. and I love that the Rock picture so much.
thanks friend! the secret is all in the Amazon Prime shipping materials i saved for a year or so to make my enormous fake muscle shirt
Hahaha, I *just* realized that The Rock is oh so casually resting his hand….ON HIS FANNY PACK.
HIS UTTERLY MASCULINE FANNY PACK.
I’m not crying. Really. I have dust in my eyes, that’s all.
This was absolutely amazing.
aw! me too! spontaneous dust storms on the internet today. thank you for your kind words!
Thanks for sharing your story Marco and congratulations on finding a happy place in your journey! I hope as you go along, the joys only increase and the fears diminish.
Small question, I’m in India and is there any way I can contribute (i.e., not in US $)?
Hi there! Thanks for reading and wanting to help out (!!! :3 ) ! I’m not sure what youcaring.com offers, but a quick search doesn’t seem super promising. If you have/can do paypal you can donate to me at:
(mariasv @ umich . edu – with no spaces of course!). But that said! I would also love if you would consider donating that same amount to someone running a campaign domestically or to one of the trans* and queer support organizations on this page: http://transguys.com/ref/india . Thank you for reading and asking! I’m touched by your generosity!
Thanks! I have done the paypal thing, I hope it works!
I’m at a low point in my life and finding it difficult to make the changes I need. I’ve found that there is a huge gulf in who I think I am or should be and who I am. I’m not getting any closer to figuring it out but reading your story made me feel so deeply happy that there are some people in this world who have found ways to connect to and make peace with themselves.
So excited for you! I’m wrestling with the same stuff right now. Deciding as a nb person that I actually need to seek medical transition is so so so scary, it’s so good to see someone who has gone through the same process.
This is a great read, and I’m happy for you!
Tough like The Rock, soft like someone who rejects Toxic Masculinity. — too good. thank you so much for sharing! i’m happy for you and wish you all the best!
I’ve had to get to know how much we can lie to ourselves in the name of protection from our deepest desires. I’m marveling at how, despite this, the universe, God, Fate, whatever you want to call it, will ask you to awaken to yourself over and over, and how that process is never what you’re expecting. It’s impossible to forecast that type of joy.
Wow. Thank you for writing this.
My circumstances are different than yours, but this really resonates with me – the lies I told myself are so obvious looking back that I can’t believe that I ever really believed them.
This is beautiful, and brava to The Toast for sharing lots of success stories. They don’t ignore the awful things that happen in the world, but shining a light on the good allows more of it to flourish and grow. Also, Marco, I love your illustration on the site!
This was so great, Marco, thank you for sharing! Like one of the posters above, this resonates with me, though the circumstances are different. It’s so nice to get a peek into your headspace. Hope you have an easy surgery and quick recovery!
Thank you, Marco. Thank you for sharing your story and thank you for how sharing it helped me connect with someone dear to me who is walking through something very similar.
I am extremely uncomfortable with the fact that you’ve taken a website where trans people voluntarily offer their help to each other in a way that requires utmost vulnerability and publicized it to a huge audience of cis people.
I think it’s Marco’s story to share and however he feels comfortable talking about his own experience is something I’m really happy to see on the Toast. [Edited to add: Oh, I can see that you’re talking about Marco mentioning a particular site he used in his research, not the Toast itself as a platform. I’m happy to talk to him and see what he thinks about taking the name itself out, since there are no links to it anywhere as far as I can see.]
Hi there! I thought about your concerns and am glad you voiced them! From my perspective that site is the Number 2 search result that comes up when you search for “transgender surgery”, it wasn’t a site I knew at first and it helped me immensely/saved me, and the toast also reaches a huge audience of trans people and this is article is for them as much a cis readers. It’s also a login based site, and it’s my feeling that if someone is at a point where they are trolling through the-toast to then opportunistically click on sites, create a registration, and harass people, they’re an asshole and that’s why we have moderation/login based websites in the first place. That said if any other trans people want to weigh-in, I’d love to hear their thoughts and I’m open to hearing more about how you think we can prioritize transpeople over cis in this situation. Thanks again.
I just wanted to say as a GQ person who is looking into top surgery, I didn’t know about this site, so thanks a bunch.
I’m trans, and while I can see the negative affect of publicising the site to a (mainly?) non-trans audience, there are 2 caveats.
a) this is not reddit: people who read this article are mostly going to be toast regulars, who as we all know are smart and kind and would never dream of using that information for ill.
b) this is the-toast dot net, where many regulars ID as some form of non-cis, some of whom may well find the site useful (eg see unisexd below!). In my opinion it’s more important to (potentially) help a small group of trans folk than it is to protect from (potential) unfriendly attention. In terms of focusing on the trans folks and not the cis folks, I think that’s exactly what sign-posting does.
Hey Marco,
Just want to say thanks for sharing this and congrats on the impending top surgery! This is super powerful. I hear your strength and I hear some of what I hope I could become in some potential future here… 🙂
I recently left a long term relationship and have been going through that process of figuring out how deep my rabbit hole goes, in terms of gender & sexuality stuff I've kept on the back burner for many years. So… your words resonate deeply with me, needless to say… Sending lots and lots of love.
"It’s made me able to understand why people are happy to be alive with themselves for no reason other than the pleasure of their own company. It’s also highlighted the ways in which the picture is still blurry."
Thank you so much for articulating what it felt like to discover yourself as non-binary and ALL of the insecurities and the sheer elation that it entails. I just realized a couple of weeks ago that I am genderqueer/non-binary and just the recognition of it is so relieving and I can't wait for top surgery.
Thank you so much for sharing your story, Marco! Best of luck with your surgery!
lovely, well written, love heartfelt truths. Just wanted to suggest any autoimmune folk reading to check out the htsupport group on facebook, tons of us chronically ill people failed by doctors trying experimental medical therapies (mainly helminthic therapy).. been there with the uncountable thousands of medical expenses but much better now thanks to lots of things plus treatments. Wish you well in your continuing journey.
I might have flapped my hands a little when I read about you getting taunted at school. My own kiddo, who thinks the gender binary is for chumps at age 8, is so so lucky to go to a supportive school. I wish you had the same.
I might have flapped my hands a little when I read about you getting taunted at school. My own kiddo, who thinks the gender binary is for chumps at age 8, is so so lucky to go to a supportive school. I wish you had the same.