By Emma Zaballos
It can be hard to remember that not everything that happened to me as a child is normal or typical. For me, spinal fusion surgery was such a major part of my teenage years that I assume that everyone went through something like it — a huge medical event that fundamentally changed my body forever and also was so successful that I now barely have to think about it. In case you’ve never experienced something like this, I’d like to share how it’s affected me physically and mentally — and politically, by inspiring me to support providing access to medical intervention for trans youth.
When I was fifteen, I confessed to my pediatrician that I felt like something was wrong with my body, that I was consumed by a sense of dysphoria and disconnection from what my body “should” feel and look like, which deeply affected my mental and emotional wellbeing. I told him that I felt like there was something wrong with my back.
In response, he told me — gently, but firmly — that this feeling was likely a result of hormones, puberty, a teenage girl’s natural sense of self-consciousness and a desire to slouch, and that I should cultivate better posture. On the way out of the appointment, he told my mom to consider buying me a different pillow.
On the way home from the appointment, I cried. I told my mom that I felt stupid and regretted bringing it up, but also that I still felt like there was something wrong with me that I couldn’t just fix. Didn’t he realize that if this was something I could have changed, I would have?
