In elementary school, I tried to stand-to-pee through an empty toilet paper roll. Though genius it may have been in my mind, the invention resulted in a pee puddle and a very soggy toilet paper roll. “Back to square one,” I thought as I cleaned up in defeat.

In middle school, I couldn’t understand why the girls in my class were so excited to go through puberty. I hid the fact that I started getting periods for as long as I could by smuggling pads into the bathroom through the soles of my shoes. A bit unorthodox, yes, but nobody found out my secret, and my insoles were extra cushy.

Though I didn’t have language for it at the time, I experimented with packing in high-school by stuffing my underwear with balled-up socks. I never left the bounds of my room while packing, but the feeling affirmed something so deep within myself.

Though the signs were before me my whole young life, I didn’t realize I was trans until I was in my early 20s. Being in a college bubble gave me the language for the things I had been experiencing my entire life. By that point, I had begun to understand my genderqueer-ness.

After about a year of associating feelings with my new queer vocabulary, I learned about packers. I finally bought myself my first cheapo packer, a “novelty toy” from my local sex shop. And what a revelation it was! Within seconds, I could change what was in my pants to reflect what part of the gender spectrum I felt on any given day. I felt like a trans Mr. Potato Head, at long last having the ability to customize my physical presentation with a removable extremity.

“I felt like a trans Mr. Potato Head, at long last having the ability to customize my physical presentation with a removable extremity.”

Following two more years of deliberation, I started my first low dose of testosterone. The medical care I received acknowledged my genderqueer identity, and I felt like my body was home at my core. My voice dropped to an inconspicuous octave. My emotions leveled out. Most excitingly, bottom growth introduced the ability to use the Rod, which I look forward to getting from Transthetics in the near future.

I am confident that my gender identity will experience boundless iterations of itself. The process of lifelong gender discovery allows me to experience the many ways that I fit into the world.

– Zoe

This is part of  a series of anonymous, personal Transthetics* short stories. If you have a story you’d like to share in around 500 to 1000 words, email it to If your story is published, you’ll receive a $150 voucher towards any Transthetics product.
*The story should reference Transthetics and/or one of its products in some way, shape or form.