By Daily Mail (U.S.) | Created at 2026-07-19 00:31:42 | Updated at 2026-07-29 21:26:36
1 week ago
It was 2018, and 37-year-old Chris Arnone knew exactly who he was: a 220-pound, six-foot-tall happily married straight man who enjoyed working out and prided himself on his fulsome beard and robust head of hair.
But something was troubling him - a medical issue of a very personal nature. So, he did what anyone would do - he Googled it. And in the process, he stumbled upon the information that would change his sense of self forever.
For a moment he couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. According to the screen in front of him the condition with which he was living was indicative of being intersex - the umbrella term for people with biological traits that don't fit neatly into the categories of male or female.
It was, he told the Daily Mail in an exclusive interview, 'mind-blowing.' Up until then, if anyone had asked him what the last few letters of LGBTQIA+ meant he would have shrugged, as he thought of them just as 'some letters.'
Arnone is speaking on the publication of his new book My Name Was Baby: An Intersex Memoir. The book begins with Arnone's birth in 1980 - his first 'coming out' he likes to joke - when the joy his parents felt at the birth of their first child quickly turned to worry and confusion.
'They did the normal count. Ten fingers. Ten toes,' he writes. 'They looked between my legs, and I can only imagine the confusion… There were two empty sacks, shriveled bits of skin that they were [and] something shaped like a question mark, curled back and up against my body.'
Given that his gender was not clear from his genitals, the doctor ordered a chromosome test. His parents, who had picked out names ahead of their child's birth - Amber for a girl, Christopher for a boy - were dumbfounded. For the three days it took to get the results, they called him simply, Baby. Finally, the results came back: XY. Arnone's fate was decided: he would be Christopher, a boy.
Doctors told his parents that he had birth defects which left him with an underdeveloped penis and testicles still inside his body. He was also diagnosed with hypospadias - the medical condition he would later research - which means that the opening of his urethra was underneath his penis, rather than at the tip.
It was 2018, and 37-year-old Chris Arnone stumbled upon the information that would change his sense of self forever
As a child, they called him simply, Baby
The condition with which he was living was indicative of being intersex - the umbrella term for people with biological traits that don't fit neatly into the categories of male or female
And so began a round of surgical 'corrections' that would last several years. His first surgery opened his urethra, a medical necessity as he could not urinate. Then doctors embarked on surgeries to make his genitals look like the boy that they decreed he was. This involved constructing a full penis using skin grafted from his bladder and pulling his testicles down from his belly.
Throughout all the surgeries, his parents were completely honest and open with everyone in the family, making sure their son felt no shame and trying to make him comfortable as he was being poked and prodded by medical professionals.
'I was lucky,' he said. 'But I've read so many other stories where either the doctors told the parents not to talk about it, the parents told the kid 'Don't talk about it,' or the parents didn't tell their child that their own biology was different.'
Aside from the surgeries that punctuated his childhood, he was brought up as a typical little boy, playing with toy cars in the garden and schooled in the ways of the macho Midwestern man. But he always knew that he was a little different from the other boys.
The medical conditions he faced were always referred to as 'birth defects' - problems to be fixed. And as Arnone progressed into adolescence he realized that his body was not developing and acting in the same way as his male peers. His penis was curved, and when other boys talked about ejaculation, he realized he had never experienced the sensation and did not know why.
Even when he ended up in hospital as a teenager with an infection of a testicle caused by the leakage of urine from his medically constructed urethra, doctors were dedicated to curing the ailment but did not probe the issue of his gender and its early construction.
His life continued this way all the way into adulthood. While Arnone preferred the company of women and did not enjoy the overtly macho ways of his stepfather and his friends (his parents divorced when he was five), he accepted this as the world he was born into.
The medical conditions he faced were always referred to as 'birth defects,' - problems to be fixed
Aside from the surgeries that punctuated his childhood, he was brought up as a typical little boy
As Arnone progressed into adolescence he realized that his body was not developing and acting in the same way as his male peers
In his book, Arnone, now 45, describes with frank detail what it is like to live with genital variations.
'There's this whole shame thing wrapped up, even though it's just your body, it's biology, it's how you're born, you have no control over it - there should be no judgement there,' he told the Daily Mail.
Arnone hid his unusual penis from the boys in the locker room and went along with the testosterone-fueled banter of the frat house he joined. He considers himself fortunate that he was never singled out for teasing.
But My Name Was Baby does not shy away from addressing the problems he did face. Arnone is frank and honest about the sexual challenges he experienced. For example, the curvature of his penis made intercourse in the missionary position impossible, so he had to be creative with sexual partners.
He was attracted to women but avoided one-night stands. He needed to form emotional connections with women, before giving them what he calls 'the speech' about his medical issues. In it he told prospective partners the story he had been told his whole life - that he had 'birth defects' that resulted in his penis being partially medically constructed.
In 2013 he proposed to the love of his life, Christina, and they married the following year.
A technical writer in healthcare by profession, he found himself naturally drawn to diverse, creative circles in the couple's hometown of Kansas City. He performed in the theatre and burlesque shows and wrote science fiction novels and poetry. But even as he shared the stage with drag queens and joined in Pride parades, he still viewed himself as a straight man, albeit one allied with the LGBTQ+ cause.
In his book, Arnone, now 45, is frank and honest about the challenges he experienced
Then came the internet search for hypospadias, and the revelation that the condition - combined with other indicators - was considered an intersex variation.
Arnone talks about going down 'the rabbit hole' as he scoured the internet and found stories of people who had similar stories to his.
While it was shocking to be confronted with a whole identity he didn't know he had, he realized that it filled in the blanks of what had been missing in his life.
'Having that word, it's helped me solidify my purpose in life,' he explained. That purpose, at least in part, is to raise awareness of intersex variations and destigmatize them.
In an Executive Order soon after his inauguration, Donald Trump decreed that it was now US government policy to only recognize 'two sexes, male and female.'
By that logic, Arnone said, 'There can't be any grey area - but our very existence proves that there is a grey area.'
Then there is a medical community which, he said, has long treated intersex variations as a condition to be fixed, rather than researching what might produce the best long-term outcomes in intersex people.
Considering up to 1.7% of people are born with intersex characteristics - around the same percentage as people with red hair - Arnone feels there should be much more research into the phenomenon.
He is also concerned about the gender surgeries done on babies and very young children to make them conform to gender norms, even when they are not medically necessary.
Arnone thinks he was lucky: doctors decided on a gender for him based on a chromosome test and the presence of testicles, and that decision corresponded to the male identity that he felt growing up.
Others were not so lucky. His book contains disturbing stories of doctors deciding on the gender of children born with intersex traits, with sometimes devastating consequences. Even a chromosome test may not definitively determine a gender. Arnone points to Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome, when babies are born with a male chromosome but often have female genitalia.
'If there is something threatening the health and the life of that baby, then do it,' he said. 'Everything else, let it wait. Raise the child. When they start to understand what's different and understand who they are and how they feel, let them be a part of that decision making.'
Arnone cannot say for sure if he is glad that he had the surgeries that were not medically essential when he was a child.
Today, he is infertile. His testicles continued to cause problems in adulthood, and a few years ago, he had them removed. But he does not know if these issues were caused by the surgeries, and he wants to enjoy the happiness he has found.
He now embraces the 'I' in LGBTQIA+ and describes himself as a pansexual intersex man in a very happy monogamous marriage.
'When you're in a good place in life, you don't want to go down [the path of thinking about all the] 'what ifs,' he said. 'I love my wife. I love my life. I'm doing work that I love and I don't want to risk that.'
