Help Kaylee Live Fully As Herself

Help Kaylee Complete Her Journey

Hi. My name is Kaylee Thompson, and I need your help to finally live as the woman I was always meant to be. WAIT! I know what you might be thinking, these stories are a dime a dozen, what makes you so special? Well, my story is a little different, and pretty interesting. Read on. 

For most of my life, I wrestled with my gender identity, believing it was a personal failing—something to suppress, ignore, or push through. But five years ago, my mother shared something that changed everything.

When she was pregnant with me, a medical error led her to take a powerful estrogen medication (Diethylstilbestrol, or DES) for six months—long past when it should have been stopped. That mistake shaped me in ways no one understood at the time, and for decades, I struggled, feeling trapped in a life that never fit. (More on that in a moment.)

Now, I finally know who I am. I love myself, and I believe God set me on this path for a reason. But I need your help to complete my journey.

(Note: after my story, I list my goals, including certain surgeries. If mention of surgery bothers you, skip that part.)

My Full Story

My mother told me this story only five years ago, exactly as I’m about to tell it now. She could see how much I was struggling, and she hoped that finally sharing the truth would bring me some peace. Until then, I had spent my whole life wrestling with my gender identity, thinking it was just some personal failing—something I had to suppress, ignore, or push through. But when she finally told me what had happened during her pregnancy, everything clicked into place.

When my mother was seven weeks pregnant with me, she and my father were in a terrible car accident. A drunk driver ran them off the road and into a ditch. She was rushed to the ER, bleeding heavily. The doctors discovered that her placenta had torn, putting the pregnancy at risk. To help keep me safe, she was prescribed strict bed rest for four weeks along with a medication meant to strengthen her uterine lining and support the pregnancy.

That medication was Diethylstilbestrol, or DES, a synthetic estrogen that doctors once believed could prevent miscarriages. She wasn’t given any special instructions about when to stop taking it, and the prescription had unlimited refills due to a clerical error. So, she kept taking it. Week after week. Month after month.

At her seven-month checkup, her OB went through his usual routine of listing her medications and asking if she was tolerating them well. As he read through the list, he didn’t mention the DES. My mother, not thinking much of it, said, “What about the DES?”

Her doctor's expression immediately changed. Confused, he looked up from his notes. “What do you mean?” he asked. “That was done months ago.”

“No,” my mother said. “You never told me to stop.”

His face went pale. He flipped frantically through her file and then, alarmed, looked her in the eye. “Stop taking that immediately,” he ordered.

By that point, I had been immersed in a six-month-long estrogen bath during critical stages of brain development. And that wasn’t the only complication. The DES had thickened my mother’s uterine lining so much that when I reached full term, her body never went into labor. The drug had disrupted the natural hormone cascade that should have triggered labor, so at 43 weeks, doctors had to induce. But the induction drugs didn’t work properly—her cervix wouldn’t dilate. My body was being squeezed by contractions with nowhere to go. My vital signs began showing distress, and the doctors had to perform an emergency C-section.

LET ME PAUSE HERE TO STATE VERY CLEARLY: I view this event—the error with the medication—as one of the most blessed moments of my life. The doctor? My parents? They might read this and go, "oh, the guilt! Oh, the blame!" NO! To feel guilt over this? That's the same as saying "the person you are is defective, and we wish you had been some other person with that face but a different mind." To say that you wish the error never occurred is to say that I am a mistake that you would erase and replace if you could.

As a baby, my mother dressed me in blue and did everything she could to make me look like a typical boy. But when strangers looked at me, they would say, “Oh, what a beautiful baby girl.” I had long eyelashes and delicate features that people associated with femininity. My XY chromosomes eventually started making corrections, and as I grew, I developed as a boy, especially after puberty. But I hated it.

Though I didn’t know any of this history until my mother told me five years ago, I always knew I was a girl at heart. Every night as a child, I would pray to God and beg Him to grant my wish—to let me wake up as a girl. I held onto that hope for as long as a child’s magical thinking could last.

As I got older, I talked myself out of living as who I truly was. I convinced myself it would be selfish. I thought my parents wouldn’t accept it. I thought it would make it harder to find a partner, and being a parent has always been one of the most important things in my life. I am a mother at heart. So, I forced myself to be someone I wasn’t. This person:

But living inauthentically wasn’t just making me miserable—it was making me less of the person I wanted to be. I wasn’t just struggling privately. My distress and depression made me less present in my relationships, less effective in my work, and less able to be the best version of myself for others.

Now, I am finally becoming the woman I was always meant to be. I love who I am. But I need help to finish this journey.

My New Goal: Vocal Surgery ($11,228)

My voice is one of my biggest sources of dysphoria. Vaginoplasty is actually higher on my list, but because it costs $37,000, I don't consider it to be as attainable of a goal. So I've decided to target my voice first.

The best and safest procedure is at Yeson Voice Clinic in South Korea, which is cheaper than U.S. options and uses a specialized and highly effective technique (look up their success videos on YouTube!). This includes:

Surgery costs: $9,800

Flight & hotel: ~$1,428

My Kids Are My Biggest Supporters

My children have been incredibly supportive of my journey. They’ve been in therapy for years due to divorce (which was completely unrelated to my gender identity), and as a result are quite emotionally intelligent and mentally healthy. When I first considered coming out, I consulted with their therapist to make sure I was making the best decision for them. She assured me that I would be a better, more present parent if I were happy; and that this experience would teach them an important lesson: the importance of caring for one’s own needs and having the courage to live truthfully.

And she was right. Since coming out, I have been more present, more engaged, and a happier, stronger parent. My kids see that, and they are rooting for me to get the care I need to finally complete this journey. They want me to be healthy, whole, and thriving.

How You Can Help

Donate – Every dollar brings me closer to my goal.

Share this campaign – The more people who see it, the less each person has to contribute! If you know someone who supports trans rights and wants to make a real difference in someone’s life, please share my story.

Comment – especially those of you who know me personally! Tell the world about the kind of person I am, and whether I deserve kindness like this.

Learn from my story! – Just because most transgender people can’t pinpoint a specific event like I can and say, "That’s why," doesn’t mean there isn’t a reason. There is! Most just don’t know what happened. So much has to go exactly to plan in the womb, or you get variations. Hormones have to be present in precise amounts at the right times—and if they aren’t? Divergence.

Please, just because my story is unique doesn’t make me special. But it does make the story important—because it proves that real, biological processes are at play. And medical science has backed this up in study after study.

So let my story open your minds and hearts—not just to me, but to all trans people.

Paying It Forward

I know what it’s like to struggle, and when I am in a better financial position, I promise to pay this kindness forward. Whether by donating to others in need, offering support, or advocating for trans healthcare access, I will make sure this generosity continues beyond me.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Thank you for believing in me. And thank you for helping me finally complete my journey to womanhood.

With all my love and gratitude,

Kaylee Annabelle Thompson

P.S.: Some photos of me trying so hard over the years...