Doctor were ‘winging it’ with transgender treatments on vulnerable kids like me

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“I feel like we’re all just running away,” said a clinician with the World Professional Association for Transsexual Health (WPATH). last report uncovered a recording of what so-called gender-affirming care advocates say when they think no one is watching. “And [that’s] Okay, you’re winging it too. But maybe we can wing it together.”
What they “winged” was my body. Their indifference left me with lifelong scars, both physically and psychologically.
I was only fifteen years old When I was introduced to transgenderism. Much of what I heard impressed me. I hated myself and my body. I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder and anorexia, so I was no stranger to being uncomfortable with my own body. I went to the doctor’s office to get help for my mental state, and after my first appointment, I walked away with a testosterone approval letter.
“I wasn’t in a good place or old enough to understand that I was being medically abused or that having my healthy body parts destroyed and discarded would only deepen my trauma,” Prisha Mosley says. (Prisha Mosley)
A single appointment set me on a path of permanent destruction and injury. I believed my doctors when they told me that girls could be boys and that having my breasts removed was the “life-saving care” I needed to avoid taking my own life. I truly believed the doctors who told me that transition would cure my mental and emotional woes.
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I wasn’t in a good place or old enough to understand that I was being medically abused or that having healthy body parts destroyed and discarded would deepen my trauma. But those who called themselves ‘medical professionals’ didn’t care. After all, they were giving him wings.
Doctors are supposed to “do no harm.” As a teenager struggling with serious mental health issues, I was unaware that experiments were being performed on me. I went to these doctors because I needed help. Real help. I was distressed, mentally ill, and suicidal. Either way, I was a defenseless little girl and the last thing I needed was to go under the knife.
There are entire areas dedicated to stabilizing youth in crisis. None of these protocols involve experimenting on healthy, developing bodies. None of them involve putting children in irreversible harm. None of this involves rushing children into permanent procedures without long-term data, consensus or basic precautions.
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This particular news story was incredibly painful to read. The phrase “winging it” had been echoing in my mind for days. But this what exactly happened to meand that’s what happened to countless others. My story unfortunately one of manyand I choose to speak openly.
The consequences of these doctors’ “deception” haunt me every day. They are there when I look in the mirror and use the bathroom. They are there when I bond with my children. Every moment of my daily life is a reminder of what is done to me in the name of “compassion”.
Seeing that I have no choice but to bear the life-changing consequences, I wonder how any medical professional, institution, or organization entrusted with the lives of children can justify this recklessness. How can they gamble with the future of thousands of children’s lives, including mine?
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The truth is that doctors never thought about my future. They placed their own ideologies, personal agendas, and pocketbooks above the lives of those they treated. I have a baby now; I am a child whose life was shaped by medical decisions imposed on me when I was too young and too unstable to consent to what was happening.
I couldn’t breastfeed my son because of the doctors who operated on me when he was little. My body was never designed to withstand male hormones and surgeries that severed my healthy breasts. But those responsible, those who were supposed to protect me, put their own uncertainty aside and made decisions anyway.
They were giving him wings. With my life. At the expense of my child’s life. With the lives of countless young patients who trust them.
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As a suicidal teenager, I was seeking the care I was told would be life-saving. What I didn’t realize was that the doctors assigned to care for me were rewriting my future, leaving it in the hands of people who had no desire to help my mental illness. Now that the truth has been revealed, the question I ask again and again is painfully simple:
Why didn’t my doctors care enough to protect me?
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Whatever the answer to that question, the point is that the medical community must be held accountable not only for the harm that has already been done to people like me, but also for preventing vulnerable children from experiencing what I did. No young person should ever be subjected to predictive, irreversible interventions again.
No parent should be pressured to accept experimental medicine under the guise of certainty. And no child should grow up learning that the adults entrusted to his care are making up for it as they go along.


