Medical Transition Is a Miracle. We Should Make It Even Better.

Medical transition is one of the quiet miracles of our time. We rarely call it that. We argue about it in legislatures and courtrooms. We try to prove it’s real, prove it’s safe, prove it’s worth the fight. But what if we simply said: this is a marvel? One of the great accomplishments of modern science. Like the internet or antibiotics, it reshapes what it means to be alive.

Hormones rewire the body’s priorities. Puberty blockers press pause on suffering. Surgeries restore the ability to recognize yourself in the mirror. This isn’t just healthcare. It’s restoration. It’s relief. It’s a kind of resurrection. People who had resigned themselves to a half-lived life are now finding breath, desire, and possibility again. If that isn’t a miracle, what is?

And yet—this miracle is still unfinished.

We can pause puberty, but we can’t rewind it. Chromosomes remain stubbornly fixed, even as every other part of our biology adapts. We can reconstruct functional genitals, but not yet reproductive organs. Hormones can shift how our bodies relate to the world, but they cannot change the time we’ve already spent inhabiting it.

What we can do is incredible. But it is not yet enough.

And what we can do is also, for far too many people, out of reach. Getting this miracle requires navigating suspicion, gatekeeping, insurance denials, long waitlists, and laws written by people more interested in punishment than care. It requires disposable income, time off work, and resilience in the face of relentless scrutiny.

But it doesn’t have to be that way.

We don’t have to be satisfied with “good enough.” We don’t have to talk about transition only in terms of survival or suffering. What if we gave it the same creative energy, the same investment, the same ambition we brought to the early days of the web? What if we dared to make it better?

Imagine if transition care was immediate, affordable, and affirming. If surgeries were regenerative, not just reconstructive. If hormones came with personalized coaching. If trans youth had access to community, guidance, and joy instead of shame and paperwork. And imagine what everyone else could gain from that knowledge.

Because what we learn through transition—about hormones, neuroplasticity, prosthetics, and reconstructive surgery—has the potential to benefit everyone. Older cis women navigating menopause. Cancer survivors. Disabled people seeking adaptive technologies. Athletes seeking safer ways to optimize recovery and performance. Trans medicine pushes the boundaries of what’s possible for the human body and frees us from one of the most ancient limits to our life experiences.

And trans people themselves bring perspectives that are invaluable to some of the most heated debates in our culture. We’ve lived on both sides of the gender binary. We’ve had our value shift with our presentation. We’ve seen how differently the world treats you depending on what it thinks you are. That insight is not just rare—it’s essential.

We don’t need to grieve its imperfections to fight for its progress. We need to marvel at what it already can—and push to make it even better. We don’t need to treat it like a problem to manage. We need to treat it like a miracle in progress.

Transition is the fruit of a cultural and scientific revolution—a revolution that has enabled nearly all of us to live longer, safer, healthier lives. Antibiotics. Vaccines. Anesthesia. Antiretrovirals. Gender-affirming care. These are the miracles of modern life. They are the result of generations of inquiry, struggle, and belief in a better future.

These are not controversies. They are achievements that we should defend with pride.