Kaden's Top Surgery
Donation protected
My name is Kaden Lee Pope, and I am a 21 year- old transgender guy.
I am collecting donations in the hopes of having a surgical procedure done to reduce the size of my chest and to further transform into the person who I was born to be. I want to tell you some of my story so you will better understand my innate need for this important step in my journey and why I am asking for donations.
I’m taking you all the way back to my childhood, where growing up as a female 7 year old never felt correct. Something felt really wrong. My mom spoiled me with Barbie dolls, only for me to toss them aside in favor of soldiers, much like a cat chooses a box for its slumber over the $600 cat tree that sits forlornly alone and wasted to its owner’s dismay. My mom clothed me in dresses, which I felt made me look ridiculous. I yearned to dress in jeans and sweats so I could more easily climb trees and dig in the dirt. I was my mom’s “little girl” who she’d always wanted, and damn it! I was going to be a tiara-wearing ballerina if it killed her!! As I got older, this detachment only got worse. I hated make-up and having long hair. Shave my legs? Um, no, who were you kidding? I started feeling as if I was living a lie, and I could not shake the constant realization that something was still very off with me. I just couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was. To my family, I was just a tomboy, most likely because I was raised alongside four boys. Stereotypes, my friends, are never without consequences.
Puberty was a nightmare for me because my body started changing, and all I knew was that the changes made me literally want to die. I was confused why I was feeling so miserable from my transformation from a girl into a woman. While all the other girls were happy for the most part and chanting the mantra “we must- we must- we must increase our busts,” I was trying to hide my quickly growing chest under multiple layers of bulky clothes in the dead heat of summer. It didn’t help that lots of girls wanted a big chest, so I was the weird one, angry that God had wickedly blessed me with a voluptuous, curvy body and knockers that some women could only buy. I found myself wanting my chest to disappear, and I felt so uncomfortable with the way people were looking at my body. Now, people said I was beautiful and even that I had a perfect “hourglass” body shape, but hearing that only made me feel more self-conscious and uneasy.
I was drowning in depression and I felt so empty inside. I began dissociating my thoughts and my memories because when I looked in the mirror at myself, I didn't even know who I was looking at. My body didn't feel like my own, and I barely knew who the real me was. I felt detached from my environment, the people around me, and of course, my body. I couldn't find myself for many years. During these years, I was honestly 100% sure I was not going to live to be 18. With the way I was feeling I didn't have any hope. My family didn’t know what to do with me, and they were really scared.
I soon began to self - sabotage. I was failing in my special education classes with a serious two year developmental delay. I began risk taking behaviors, not caring if one of them would be my last. I was attracted to girls and thought I was gay but kept up the facade of having a boyfriend. I lost all my friends through manipulation because I hated myself and did not find value in anything but that self-hate. I was in so much pain and began to cut away the wounds, only leaving the scars behind to prove it. I was sent to a psychiatric hospital and admitted in acute stay five times before the professionals realized the problem was not going away or even alleviating in the slightest. I was finally placed into long term care in a mental health facility for five months, which I fought every step of the way. Only later, did I realize that THIS was my saving grace. I had started a type of therapy that was really opening up my mind and forcing me to confront my demons head-on. I began to realize that I was not alone in my confusion and uncertainty and that there were many uprooted trees in my life force that I had yet to replant and tenderly nourish back to health. If I was going to survive, I would have to sufficiently water, prune, fertilize, and love the person I was born to be. Just, who exactly was I? This began my journey that brings my story and request to you today.
It was shortly after being discharged that I became determined to find myself, to discover who I really was deep inside underneath all the filters I had used to deceive myself. I started bravely changing my looks, setting my fear aside, and I soon looked unlike anybody I had ever seen before me in the mirror. It was uncanny, though, because I DID recognize myself in some nostalgic way. It was as if I was seeing a long-lost friend who I’d believed would never surface again. I dyed my hair and started dressing a bit more masculinely, even apart from my typical “tomboy” attire. I also desperately wanted to cut my hair really short but was still too afraid to act on that at first. These little changes did help me feel more “normal,” but I still felt like I was lying to myself in some unknown way.
In my junior year of high school, I enrolled at a new school, a choice that would affect my life in the absolute best way. Here, I met new people who weren’t afraid to be themselves, people who accepted me for who I was at that moment, as well as ones who would support me as I discovered who exactly I was destined to be. I started to get to know myself really well, which then forced me to start questioning my female-raised gender. I knew deep down that if I never acted on these revelations that I was having, I would never be happy like I so deserved to be. I stopped caring what others thought about me for the first time ever and acted on my true desires.
I finally decided to have my hair cut super short during my senior year, and I cried happy tears, even in front of the hair stylist, Courtney. She was super supportive of me and pushed me to take the leap. I remember this moment so vividly; this was the first time I understood how much “putting on an act” daily was killing me on the inside. If only I had known then, what I now know, I would have done it all from the start. But, I guess that’s why I consider this my journey, and in every epic journey, the hero must face challenges and obstacles before he wins the treasure.
Shortly after my haircut, I told my close friends that I would like them to call me by my chosen name, Elliott, (later changed to Kaden) and to use male pronouns when they spoke to or about me. Slowly, I started feeling like “myself” and less like I was living a huge lie. My smiles became genuine, for I loved this person the mirror reflected back at me. I didn’t have everything figured out by any means, but I knew one thing was for sure. I was not a girl.
After this epiphany, I came out publicly as transgeder and told my family. Let’s just say that it was quite a roller coaster for a while because I had to fight and prove myself to everyone all over again. Many people thought I was crazy and treated me like I was less or just disturbed and sick in the head. My friends had my back, and that made this stage a bit more bearable. My friends also held me up when I felt knocked down. They stood with me and offered their encouragement, never letting me give up on my journey of self-discovery and securing the ropes as I claimed ownership of the person I was always meant to be. As time went on, it got easier because I learned not to care what anyone said about or to me. I was finally starting to be happy. I kept telling myself to keep fighting, and so I did, albeit through the tears and pain. Once my family realized that I was not backing down and that this had never been a “choice” for me as much as it was an inborn truth, I started taking testosterone. I am proud to say that the man I see in the mirror is only looking more like “me” each and every day.
I have been taking testosterone since 9/26/19 and really love the transformation I have witnessed through the process. I’m almost where I need to be, except for my large chest which mocks me every day. I’ve resorted to binding my chest (binding- refers to flattening breast tissue to create a male-appearing chest using a variety of materials and methods). For a more permanent solution, though, I'm looking into female to male top surgery surgeons, and I found one who I really like in Michigan with a reasonable price tag. The total price of the surgery is $6,850, but I'm asking for donations totaling up to $7,000 for any extra expenses I will need to cover such as transportation and prescriptions.
The Michigan surgeon I’ve found is Dr. Kenneth Wolf. My Insurance does not cover the surgery, and I do not make enough at my job to outright pay for it. Don’t get me wrong!! I work my rear end off as a dietary aide up to six days a week in a nursing home, but I’m only part time. It’s a demanding and often heart-wrenching job, and I’m saving nearly every penny I earn to reach my goal; however, at the rate I’m going, it will literally take me years to reach my goal. Therefore, my biggest dream and goal at this moment is to raise the money I require to get top surgery. I feel that I must accomplish this goal in order for me to truly live life as the man I was born to be. Currently, I feel stuck - like I can’t accomplish all I want to do in my life because of this one obstacle. It truly vexes me. I want to look at my chest and see it flat; I want to completely look like a male so that no one ever finds themselves second guessing my gender identity.
I know my request is a lot to ask for, but I have to start somewhere. If I just sit on by, life gently floating me through the motions, I will never become the person I’ve fought so hard to be. It’s time for action, and this request is a major step in the direction of perspersonal life fulfillment. If you can find it in your hearts to help me, if you have an extra dollar that you can donate for this worthy cause, or even if you are only able to share my story with others, you will have helped a stranger truly exist in this bitter world more than you can ever realize.
Thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to read my story and for understanding that this is not a choice - it is a matter of living life as ME, and it has always been my destiny.
My name is Kaden Lee Pope, and I'm a 21 year- old transgender guy.
I am collecting donations in the hopes of having a surgical procedure done to reduce the size of my chest and to further transform into the person who I was born to be. I want to tell you some of my story so you will better understand my innate need for this important step in my journey and why I am asking for donations.
I’m taking you all the way back to my childhood, where growing up as a female 7 year old never felt correct. Something felt really wrong. My mom spoiled me with Barbie dolls, only for me to toss them aside in favor of soldiers, much like a cat chooses a box for its slumber over the $600 cat tree that sits forlornly alone and wasted to its owner’s dismay. My mom clothed me in dresses, which I felt made me look ridiculous. I yearned to dress in jeans and sweats so I could more easily climb trees and dig in the dirt. I was my mom’s “little girl” who she’d always wanted, and damn it! I was going to be a tiara-wearing ballerina if it killed her!! As I got older, this detachment only got worse. I hated make-up and having long hair. Shave my legs? Um, no, who were you kidding? I started feeling as if I was living a lie, and I could not shake the constant realization that something was still very off with me. I just couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was. To my family, I was just a tomboy, most likely because I was raised alongside four boys. Stereotypes, my friends, are never without consequences.
Puberty was a nightmare for me because my body started changing, and all I knew was that the changes made me literally want to die. I was confused why I was feeling so miserable from my transformation from a girl into a woman. While all the other girls were happy for the most part and chanting the mantra “we must- we must- we must increase our busts,” I was trying to hide my quickly growing chest under multiple layers of bulky clothes in the dead heat of summer. It didn’t help that lots of girls wanted a big chest, so I was the weird one, angry that God had wickedly blessed me with a voluptuous, curvy body and knockers that some women could only buy. I found myself wanting my chest to disappear, and I felt so uncomfortable with the way people were looking at my body. Now, people said I was beautiful and even that I had a perfect “hourglass” body shape, but hearing that only made me feel more self-conscious and uneasy.
I was drowning in depression and I felt so empty inside. I began dissociating my thoughts and my memories because when I looked in the mirror at myself, I didn't even know who I was looking at. My body didn't feel like my own, and I barely knew who the real me was. I felt detached from my environment, the people around me, and of course, my body. I couldn't find myself for many years. During these years, I was honestly 100% sure I was not going to live to be 18. With the way I was feeling I didn't have any hope. My family didn’t know what to do with me, and they were really scared.
I soon began to self - sabotage. I was failing in my special education classes with a serious two year developmental delay. I began risk taking behaviors, not caring if one of them would be my last. I was attracted to girls and thought I was gay but kept up the facade of having a boyfriend. I lost all my friends through manipulation because I hated myself and did not find value in anything but that self-hate. I was in so much pain and began to cut away the wounds, only leaving the scars behind to prove it. I was sent to a psychiatric hospital and admitted in acute stay five times before the professionals realized the problem was not going away or even alleviating in the slightest. I was finally placed into long term care in a mental health facility for five months, which I fought every step of the way. Only later, did I realize that THIS was my saving grace. I had started a type of therapy that was really opening up my mind and forcing me to confront my demons head-on. I began to realize that I was not alone in my confusion and uncertainty and that there were many uprooted trees in my life force that I had yet to replant and tenderly nourish back to health. If I was going to survive, I would have to sufficiently water, prune, fertilize, and love the person I was born to be. Just, who exactly was I? This began my journey that brings my story and request to you today.
It was shortly after being discharged that I became determined to find myself, to discover who I really was deep inside underneath all the filters I had used to deceive myself. I started bravely changing my looks, setting my fear aside, and I soon looked unlike anybody I had ever seen before me in the mirror. It was uncanny, though, because I DID recognize myself in some nostalgic way. It was as if I was seeing a long-lost friend who I’d believed would never surface again. I dyed my hair and started dressing a bit more masculinely, even apart from my typical “tomboy” attire. I also desperately wanted to cut my hair really short but was still too afraid to act on that at first. These little changes did help me feel more “normal,” but I still felt like I was lying to myself in some unknown way.
In my junior year of high school, I enrolled at a new school, a choice that would affect my life in the absolute best way. Here, I met new people who weren’t afraid to be themselves, people who accepted me for who I was at that moment, as well as ones who would support me as I discovered who exactly I was destined to be. I started to get to know myself really well, which then forced me to start questioning my female-raised gender. I knew deep down that if I never acted on these revelations that I was having, I would never be happy like I so deserved to be. I stopped caring what others thought about me for the first time ever and acted on my true desires.
I finally decided to have my hair cut super short during my senior year, and I cried happy tears, even in front of the hair stylist, Courtney. She was super supportive of me and pushed me to take the leap. I remember this moment so vividly; this was the first time I understood how much “putting on an act” daily was killing me on the inside. If only I had known then, what I now know, I would have done it all from the start. But, I guess that’s why I consider this my journey, and in every epic journey, the hero must face challenges and obstacles before he wins the treasure.
Shortly after my haircut, I told my close friends that I would like them to call me by my chosen name, Elliott, (later changed to Kaden) and to use male pronouns when they spoke to or about me. Slowly, I started feeling like “myself” and less like I was living a huge lie. My smiles became genuine, for I loved this person the mirror reflected back at me. I didn’t have everything figured out by any means, but I knew one thing was for sure. I was not a girl.
After this epiphany, I came out publicly as transgeder and told my family. Let’s just say that it was quite a roller coaster for a while because I had to fight and prove myself to everyone all over again. Many people thought I was crazy and treated me like I was less or just disturbed and sick in the head. My friends had my back, and that made this stage a bit more bearable. My friends also held me up when I felt knocked down. They stood with me and offered their encouragement, never letting me give up on my journey of self-discovery and securing the ropes as I claimed ownership of the person I was always meant to be. As time went on, it got easier because I learned not to care what anyone said about or to me. I was finally starting to be happy. I kept telling myself to keep fighting, and so I did, albeit through the tears and pain. Once my family realized that I was not backing down and that this had never been a “choice” for me as much as it was an inborn truth, I started taking testosterone. I am proud to say that the man I see in the mirror is only looking more like “me” each and every day.
I have been taking testosterone since 9/26/19 and really love the transformation I have witnessed through the process. I’m almost where I need to be, except for my large chest which mocks me every day. I’ve resorted to binding my chest (binding- refers to flattening breast tissue to create a male-appearing chest using a variety of materials and methods). For a more permanent solution, though, I'm looking into female to male top surgery surgeons, and I found one who I really like in Michigan with a reasonable price tag. The total price of the surgery is $6,850, but I'm asking for donations totaling up to $7,000 for any extra expenses I will need to cover such as transportation and prescriptions.
The Michigan surgeon I’ve found is Dr. Kenneth Wolf. My Insurance does not cover the surgery, and I do not make enough at my job to outright pay for it. Don’t get me wrong!! I work my rear end off as a dietary aide up to six days a week in a nursing home, but I’m only part time. It’s a demanding and often heart-wrenching job, and I’m saving nearly every penny I earn to reach my goal; however, at the rate I’m going, it will literally take me years to reach my goal. Therefore, my biggest dream and goal at this moment is to raise the money I require to get top surgery. I feel that I must accomplish this goal in order for me to truly live life as the man I was born to be. Currently, I feel stuck - like I can’t accomplish all I want to do in my life because of this one obstacle. It truly vexes me. I want to look at my chest and see it flat; I want to completely look like a male so that no one ever finds themselves second guessing my gender identity.
I know my request is a lot to ask for, but I have to start somewhere. If I just sit on by, life gently floating me through the motions, I will never become the person I’ve fought so hard to be. It’s time for action, and this request is a major step in the direction of perspersonal life fulfillment. If you can find it in your hearts to help me, if you have an extra dollar that you can donate for this worthy cause, or even if you are only able to share my story with others, you will have helped a stranger truly exist in this bitter world more than you can ever realize.
Thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to read my story and for understanding that this is not a choice - it is a matter of living life as ME, and it has always been my destiny.
My name is Kaden Lee Pope, and I'm a 21 year- old transgender guy.
Organizer
Kaden Pope
Organizer
Valparaiso, IN
