Chloe Cole: Don’t mutilate and sterilize the bodies of minors

We’re lucky to live in a country where transgender people are able to be validated in their identity and accepted for who they are. Nevertheless, transgender discussions dominate politics and social issues, with recent debates being raised around the age hormones and surgeries can be conducted, transgender competition in sports, and parental notification regarding students socially transitioning.

These issues hit close to home.

Looking back, ages 12-16 were meant to be something I just had to push through. Instead, I lost them to hormones and surgeries, and resulting depression and suicidal ideation. I started puberty blockers at 13 and had a double mastectomy at 15.

By 16, I regretted it and was left trying to put back together the pieces of the girl I once was.

Doctors green-lighted procedures that weren’t OK and my parents, scared by my depression, tried to support me through my transition and followed medical advice, which wasn’t substantial mental health support; it was medical transitioning.

This should’ve never been allowed to happen.I will do everything to make sure it never does to anyone else.

My name is Chloe. I’m 19 years old. I’m a de-transitioner. After everything I’ve been through, it’s impossible for me not to believe that life-altering hormones and surgeries should never be administered to minors.

I was a tomboy. I was isolated and bullied. Teachers didn’t help. When I hit puberty, the differences between myself and my peers felt exacerbated.

I got a laptop in fourth grade. It was supposed to be for school, but when school was a cruel place, it’s no surprise I found comfort in being able to hide away online. I looked on Instagram for people who had similar interests so I didn’t feel alone. Through these spaces, I encountered something for the first time — “gender identity.”

I was aware of what “trans” meant, but by sixth grade I found my curiosity taking hold. I found commonality with accounts that talked about being transgender. Not being feminine, feeling uncomfortable in my body, plus my lack of connection with people created the perfect combination for me to align myself with people online who weren’t afraid to talk about things I was insecure about.

Calling myself transgender made sense: why I didn’t have much in common with other girls, why I felt uncomfortable in my body, why I was a tomboy.

In reality, I had undiagnosed autism, ADHD, body dysmorphia and an eating disorder. This was never acknowledged until I was older.

In sixth grade, I was diagnosed with gender dysphoria. Doctors at Kaiser rushed my treatment. They told my parents, “Would you rather have a dead daughter or a trans son?” The process of getting my first round of hormones, which should’ve taken a year, only took a couple of months. I still don’t understand why there was a hurry to give puberty blockers to a child, especially without consultation about my emotional state and my mental health issues.

Middle school was a tricky balance of trying to pass as a boy while everyone knew I was a girl. Some people were accepting, some weren’t.

High school was better. I looked like a boy, had a deep voice and wore a binder. I started to understand the struggles boys went through. I couldn’t show weakness. When people would say horrible things I had to shrug it off because I was being recognized as a man, so I couldn’t show emotion.

By sophomore year, it felt like the final thing in the way of my transition was my chest.

So, I had a mastectomy.

My suicidal thoughts got worse afterward. It wasn’t until my junior year when I took a psychology class that I began to have second thoughts about my transition.

I was angry and disassociated from my body. I had made an irreversible mistake; my 12-year-old self’s idea would haunt me for the rest of my life. By the end of junior year, I stopped taking blockers and hormones.

My psychology class also taught me about the brain — that it’s not fully developed until around age 25.

When I returned to the online spaces, which previously affirmed my identity, I began sharing my regret for transitioning. With some searching, I discovered people who went through the exact same thing.

I was glad to have people who could relate to me. But, I couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable truth that it seemed abnormal for other kids to have experienced confusion around their identity, been told to transition and realized their mistake after only a few more years of maturity. Something was not right.

Seeing others like me motivated me to speak out. Why are we offering medical transitioning, dangerous hormones and genital mutilation to people who aren’t even old enough to get a tattoo? At 13, when I took puberty blockers, my frontal lobe wasn’t close to being developed. I didn’t have control over the part of my brain in charge of emotions, impulse control, social interaction, and problem solving. How could I have been expected to make the call about changing my gender?

Being told to transition at a young age took away years of my life and filled them with depression. We need to focus on the underlying mental health issues that children and teens experience instead of handing them life-altering drugs and surgeries.

Please, stand with me and everyone who has been wronged by these harmful procedures. Help protect kids like me.

Just last month I helped introduce the Protect Children from Reproductive Harm Act, a statewide initiative that would prevent the sterilization of children by prohibiting puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones, genital surgeries and mastectomies for minors. Please join our cause by visiting www.ProtectKidsCA.com.

Chloe Cole is 19 years-old and is from the Central Valley who opposes the sterilization of minors through puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones and gender altering surgery. She supports mental health services for adolescents who are struggling with their gender confusion.  Follow Chloe Cole on Twitter @ChoooCole