At Catholic churches across Manhattan and Brooklyn, Salome has enchanted audiences with her heartfelt performances and impressive organ playing. Her talents have even led her to work with the Archbishop of New York in his Organist Training Program, landing gigs throughout the city.
Yet behind Salome’s gentle smile and angelic voice lies a hidden truth. The name Salome is a facade—this story belongs to Miles, who was born in a different light.
This tale is all too common, really. Kids with unique interests can sometimes get swept up in online ideologies, which then leads to a reliance on medical interventions.
“They didn’t even recognize me at first and immediately started the hormones. Reflecting back, if I were a doctor, I think I’d view this choice as much more significant than what a child might grasp at that age,” he shared.
Miles Yardley made his way to New York City from Pennsylvania in 2022, adopting his female persona, Salome. He soon became popular in the downtown fashion community.
Yardley secured a modeling contract, landed an ad for Marc Jacobs, worked with noted photographer Juergen Teller, and walked the runway for designer Batsheva. He also contributed to a Catholic school music program.
In no time, Yardley became a prominent figure in bohemian circles and even flew to Romania to meet celebrities.
However, as his faith deepened and health concerns mounted, Yardley began reevaluating his choices. Earlier this year, he left the bustling atmosphere of Manhattan for a fresh start in California.
“I couldn’t bear continuing these discussions, particularly about my identity, with people around me or the parents of my students,” he confessed.
At just 15, he had sought care at a Gender Clinic in Philadelphia, having been a late bloomer interested in singing and dancing. Classmates’ questions about his orientation sparked confusion as he had never previously considered his identity. “I was only prompted to question my identity when others began inquiring about it,” he recalled.
After two appointments at the clinic, he was placed on hormone blockers and then transitioned to estrogen therapy, labeled by doctors as a “model case” of a transgender child.
“I believed that if I appeared more feminine, it would lessen social friction since many people perceived me that way,” he explained.
Initially, everything seemed to go smoothly. He graduated high school, taught music at a Catholic school in West Philly, and later joined Temple University to study music.
In fact, he felt that being transgender gave him an advantage, especially with his soprano singing voice.
Then, he encountered someone in New York who encouraged him to pursue modeling, but with a caveat: “You need to lose 20 pounds first.”
“I think my identity as transgender aided my appeal in modeling and social circles,” Yardley noted. “It felt like I had entered a new world where people thought I was exceptional.”
In April 2024, however, things took a turn when he was diagnosed with a pituitary adenoma, a brain tumor, and also developed hypothyroidism—all conditions potentially linked to hormone therapy.
Around the same time, he sought solace in his church community.
“I found myself in a spiral of self-harm. My choices left me feeling disconnected from what usually brings joy and meaning to most lives, like having children,” Yardley reflected, prompting him to challenge conventional views on gender identity.
“At 15, I thought, ‘I’m different, but that’s okay.’ It’s hard to think long-term when you’re young and wrapped up in your identity,” he admitted.
Since halting estrogen in January, he’s recognized various side effects he hadn’t noticed before.
“I was heavily influenced by the hormones. I struggled with mental clarity and exhaustion,” he admitted.
Yet, the journey toward self-discovery was isolating. The medical community seemed to have abandoned him as he sought new paths without established protocols for those who stop treatment. The response from doctors often felt dismissive.
“I’ve consulted many doctors for advice, but none seem to have a clear direction post-treatment,” Yardley said, expressing frustration. “It’s tough. At some point, you wonder how many places you can turn before finding your own answers.”
As societal backlash against childhood gender transitions gained momentum, Yardley watched as countries like the UK and Sweden decided to restrict hormone treatments for minors. Recently, even a U.S. Supreme Court ruling supported bans on gender transition care for young people. Federal action has also aimed at limiting funding to hospitals that provide these procedures.
Yardley joined the discourse but didn’t see himself as an activist. He is currently pursuing legal action against the Philadelphia hospital for alleged malpractice.
As for his appearance, with his newly short, brass-blond hair, he’s found that people, both friends and strangers, struggle with how to interact with him.
“I’ve attempted to use men’s restrooms multiple times, only to be redirected to the women’s room! It’s frustrating when people assume,” he noted.
He grapples with the uncertainty of whether his past medical treatment has resulted in irreversible effects on his fertility. Yet, amidst all this, there are glimmers of hope.
In California, he began a band called Paria the Doll, naming his debut album “Castrato,” and has even launched a line of clothing suited for gender-diverse individuals. He dreams of finding a kindhearted Catholic partner but remains prepared for single life.
“Having spent a decade in a female role, I honestly don’t know how to fully embrace being a man. It’s a daunting transition,” he confessed.
Nevertheless, he holds no hostility toward those who shaped his journey, including his mother.
“She doesn’t exactly support it. But, like many parents, especially those from an older generation, she trusted the doctors’ advice too readily,” he noted.
When it comes to the medical professionals involved, surprisingly, Yardley expresses a sense of compassion. “As a Christian, I can’t view them as malicious; I believe most people don’t intend to do harm,” he explained.
However, he senses a troubling trend, highlighting that hospitals profit from these procedures and seem to create lifelong patients within the transgender community.
Looking back, he reflects, “Life without mistakes or missteps isn’t really possible. If I had made a different choice at 15, surely my life would look different. But I try not to dwell on regrets. In many respects, I consider myself fortunate.”
He hopes for greater understanding among doctors moving forward. “Children who feel gender-discordant should be encouraged to express themselves freely. That’s where I believe things went awry. I lacked confidence in who I was at that time,” he concluded. “No one around me suggested it was possible to be anything else.”
