This story is from the comments by /u/Burned_toast_marmite that are listed below, summarised with AI.
User Authenticity Assessment: Not Suspicious
Based on the provided comments, the account "Burned_toast_marmite" shows no serious red flags and appears to be authentic.
The user's comments are highly detailed, emotionally nuanced, and span several years with a consistent, evolving personal narrative. They share a complex history of being a gender-nonconforming female, identifying as male in youth, and ultimately desisting. The advice given is specific, drawing on long-term personal experiences with sports (rugby), academia, autism, and relationships. The language is natural, with personal anecdotes and reflections that would be difficult for a bot to fabricate consistently over time. The passion and occasional anger align with the genuine frustration of someone who has personally grappled with these issues.
About me
I started feeling out of place as a girl when I was eight, and I thought I must be a boy because I couldn't relate to other girls. My hatred for my female body got worse during puberty, leading me to develop a severe eating disorder to stop my development. I found my turning point when I started playing rugby and met other masculine women, which taught me to appreciate my body for its strength. I now understand my feelings were tied to my autism and rejecting sexist expectations, not because I was truly male. I'm in my late 30s now, a happy masculine woman who is grateful I didn't medically transition, and I've learned to build a life where I can just be myself.
My detransition story
My journey with gender started when I was very young, around eight years old. I was an autistic kid who felt completely out of place and couldn't connect with other girls. I hated the social expectations and the complexities of female friendships. From ages 8 to about 13 or 14, I identified as male. I had short hair, wore boys' clothes, and was deeply uncomfortable with anything feminine. The thought of wearing a dress or having long hair would give me panic attacks. I now realize a lot of this was my rigid, autistic way of thinking; I couldn't be a "normal" girl, so I must be a boy. If I were a teenager today, I'm almost certain I would have been encouraged to transition, and that would have been a huge mistake for me.
My discomfort with my female body intensified during puberty. I developed a deep hatred for my breasts and was horrified by the idea of periods and the entire process of becoming a woman. This led me straight into a severe eating disorder in my teens. I starved and exercised excessively to try and stop my periods and achieve a lean, more boyish look. I felt like my body was betraying me, and I wanted to escape it entirely.
For a long time, I believed the solution was to become someone else. I was deeply unhappy and thought that if I could just change my body to match how I felt inside, everything would be better. I was also influenced by the fact that male friendships seemed so much easier to navigate; talking about sports and hanging out was straightforward, without the nuanced social cues that confused me. I found a sense of belonging and temporary relief in presenting as male.
But I never medically transitioned. I'm what you would call a desister. Over time, and with a lot of life experience, my perspective completely changed. A huge part of my healing came from finding my tribe—other gender-nonconforming women, particularly through playing rugby. Rugby taught me to appreciate my body for its strength and power, not just how it looked. Getting muddy, battered, and bruised on the pitch, and then working together to heal, showed me that my body was an incredible vehicle capable of amazing things. It gave me a sense of purpose that was bigger than my own self-obsession with my identity.
I also got into yoga and meditation, which helped me get out of my head and into my body. I learned that discomfort, anxiety, and even pain are not things to be eliminated at all costs, but are part of life that we can overcome and grow from. My mindset shifted from wanting to change my body to fit my mind, to learning to accept and love the body I have.
I came to understand that my desire to be male was heavily wrapped up in internalized misogyny and a rejection of the limitations and injustices I saw women facing. I wanted the social power, physical strength, and easier social navigation that men seemed to have. I realized that instead of changing myself to fit a fucked-up society, I could change my environment. I chose a career in academia, surrounded myself with strong, unconventional women, and built a life where I could simply be me—a masculine woman who sometimes wears dresses and sometimes wears her husband's clothes.
I'm now in my late 30s, bisexual, and married to a man. I still sometimes struggle with the words "wife" and "mother"—they make my skin crawl—and pregnancy was a deeply dysphoric experience for me. I still sometimes wish I could be a dad instead of a mum. But I don't regret not transitioning for a second. I'm grateful that medical transition wasn't a readily available or promoted path when I was a teenager. It gave me the time to grow up and realize that I could create a life where I was happy and comfortable as a GNC woman.
My thoughts on gender now are that clothes, hobbies, and styles aren't inherently gendered. We can all just do what we want. I believe that for some people, medical transition is the right path and brings them peace, but for many others, like me, the underlying issues are trauma, neurodiversity, internalized homophobia, or simply the brutal difficulty of being a woman in a sexist world. The solution isn't always to change the body; sometimes it's to change your life, find your people, and learn to love the vessel you're in. You have to keep relearning to love your body throughout your life.
I didn't have serious health complications from transition because I didn't medically transition, but I did suffer from my eating disorder. I'm not infertile. My main regret is the years I spent hating myself and my body, but I don't regret the path I took because it led me to where I am now. My advice to anyone questioning is to take your time. Your body is speaking to you; listen to it. You have your whole life to make these decisions, and the technology will only get better. Don't rush into permanent changes to solve temporary problems. Life gets so much bigger and richer after your teens.
Here is a timeline of my journey:
| Age | Event |
|---|---|
| 8 | Began identifying as male, rejecting feminine clothing and roles. |
| 12-13 | Puberty began; intense discomfort with female body development. |
| 13-14 | Developed a severe eating disorder to suppress puberty and achieve a masculine look. |
| 14-15 | Gradually stopped identifying as male and began the process of desisting. |
| 17 | Had first boyfriend; period of experimentation and confusion. |
| 19-20 | Started playing rugby; began to find a tribe of GNC women and appreciate my body's strength. |
| 21 | Met my future husband; began a long-term relationship. |
| Late 20s | Fully came to terms with being a GNC woman; stopped caring about others' perceptions. |
| 30s | Built a career as an academic; married; continued sports and travel. |
| 36 | Became pregnant; experienced renewed but manageable dysphoria. |
| Late 30s | Now content as a masculine woman, comfortable with my body and my life. |
Top Reddit Comments by /u/Burned_toast_marmite:
Well, I think you have arrived at the average woman’s state of being (or at least the intelligent ones).
I hate the same things - in fact, I teach the history of sexuality and gender in literature, so I’m hyper aware of the long history of objectification and dehumanisation of women, as well as experienced the standard experiences as a woman (the cat calling from age 12, the sexual assault as a teen, being followed in my car by a man in a van who tried to attack me as I went into my house, being belittled and having our team kit pissed on by the men who play our sport). I am also quite dysphoric about periods and pregnancy.
But I don’t FEEL like a woman. Or not feel like a woman. I know I am one and I exist in my sexed body, but I don’t feel like one. I don’t know what that would mean. I am just me, with my likes, dislikes and own personal history of experiences. My body is just a flesh vessel that I move about in. Sometimes I like it and sometimes I don’t. But I’m still me whether I woke up tomorrow With a different body or not.
What you are describing sounds, to me, perfectly normal for an intelligent woman.
I identified as male from 8-14. I’m now a bi woman married to a man. I mix up wearing men’s and women’s clothes. I played rugby until I retired and have never been particularly gender conforming. I guess I’m a tom boy but I’m too old for labels. Honestly, when you get into your 30s, labels just seem irrelevant. You stop caring what other people think and just do, say and wear what you like. I don’t think of myself as masc or femme or non binary. I just exist. I have more interesting things to do in terms of work, travel and hobbies. Yet, when I was a young teen, I would have panic attacks over my hair getting too long / wearing a dress.
I think you need to detoxify your life and remove yourself from the community / friendship groups making you feel like this.
Validation needs to come from your own self and should not be reliant on others. You are you, carving your own path. Friends who are real friends should love and respect you for how you choose to live your life. As long as you are living and let live in terms of their decisions (ie not saying your non medicalised route is best) then they should afford you the same. If they don’t, then they don’t actually care about you as a person, they only care about tribal identity.
My suggestion (as you are already tackling things with therapy) is join activities / hobbies / sports where you can meet new people. Possibly something that requires positive use of your mind and/or body (art, indoor rock climbing, something like that) but make sure it is a social group.
I thought I had found my people at university but it turned out they weren’t really my friends. It was pretty devastating. It took playing rugby for me to find my actual, true friends. I hope that you can find some peace away from people who are treating you so badly. Remember: you are valid because you are you. Why does taking T or having surgery make someone more valid? What kind of ridiculous superficial aesthetic-based view of humanity is that? The content of one’s character and not their physical appearance is what matters in this life.
Unfortunately, and very sadly, Your parents have been told repeatedly by organisations, medics and schools that if they don’t support you that you would have killed yourself. If you want to take your justifiable anger out on anyone, take it out on the organisations that promote early medical intervention rather than watchful waiting. Campaign and rail against them.
In the meantime, tell your parents how you feel. Maybe write them a letter? They will understand your anger even if it upsets them, and they’ll be able to help. Some family therapy will help too.
Finally, you are so young. My life didn’t really get going until I was 18+ and didn’t become what I wanted it to be until my late 20s. You have so much to come and so much to live for. I had no possible way to know at 15 how extraordinarily different my life would become. I’ve travelled all over the world (20+ countries), played rugby at a high level, become an academic, got married... none of that was in my life plan aged 15, when I was in the grips of an eating disorder and just coming out of identifying as male (desisted aged 13 ish).
I would definitely recommend stopping medical transition. It should not bring you this level of horror, and if you sing you are definitely gambling with your voice. Some carry on with a brilliant deeper voice, some end up with a cracked and uneven voice.
You can stay socially transitioned. Your body maybe doesn’t react well to T. This can happen - it depends on how androgen sensitive you are, and other factors.
It sounds like you are a queer/gnc female who is perhaps transmasc... whatever. The labels don’t matter. What matters is that instead of bringing peace and harmony when taking T, you have been left feeling anxious and unwell. Your body is telling you something important: listen to it.
You can always return to transition at a later date, but never do it for your friends or social group. I was a lonely autistic awkward nerdy male presenting teen who liked horses, football and rugby. I have since made wonderful friends in the rugby community and have found my gnc tribe.
If your current friends accept you without you chemically modifying your body, and understand that your body is not reacting well to medication, and support you continuing on your own personal path, then you too have found your tribe. If they alienate or berate you for stopping medical transition, then they are not your friends.
If your friends are offended by you making a mature decision, then they are not your friends. Your friends should champion your health and happiness, and support your decisions. I am 37. All my good friends now were made in my mid to late 20s through rugby. I still have message contact with friends from when I was 16, but I see them maybe every two years. They all live within an hour of me. We just don’t have much in common any more. I would hate to think I did something to please them at 16 that I was still living with at 37.
DO NOT HAVE SURGERY DUE TO EMBARRASSMENT. You can have an orchiectomy in 5 years, 10 years, whatever. Do not permanently sterilise yourself and cause yourself irreversible erectile dysfunction with this level of doubt. Aged 22/23 I never ever wanted children and couldn’t imagine what my body might be in 10 years’ time. I’m still unsure about kids in my 30s but I’m so glad I have the choice. More importantly, my relationship to my body is so different now than it was 10 years ago. I can’t imagine how different again it will be in my 40s and 50s.
You are potentially going to live in your body for another 50-60 years. You will change so much emotionally, physically, psychologically and live many lives. Any doubts about elective surgeries MUST be listened to!
You are growing up. You are already showing a deeper maturity as you recognise how different you feel now. However, the sense of being embarrassed is lingering teenaged behaviour. Own who you are. You experiment with gender, you play with how you express your identity. Nothing wrong with that. But you will by psychologically devastated if you have such a body-altering, future-changing operation because you felt too ashamed to say you didn’t want it. You don’t need to tell people what’s in your pants and they never need to know if you did or did not have any kind of genital surgery.
If you are a trans activist, then I guess use your story for good? Ie raise the point that gatekeeping in the context of detailed, informed understanding of all surgeries and processes is valuable. That support groups and fora in real life and online can share these stories so those setting out on a path can avoid the same mistakes.
I only say this because the only real solution to top surgery is some form of reconstruction or use of Brest forms, which won’t resolve the thing you miss (sensation) and may make it worse, and will bring back what you were glad to eliminate (weight, getting in the way etc).
Perhaps a useful way of looking at things is you reached a compromise with your body: you forewent some sexual pleasure to achieve a back pain-free existence and (perhaps) less public harassment. Not a terrible trade off! But one that should be discussed more openly. I think if transition was always promoted as being in negotiation or compromise with your body, beliefs and the capabilities of science, rather than a small number of “golden solutions” type claims that dominate tumblr and some r/ spaces then transition would be not so much gatekept as just seen as a fairly risky medical option rather than medical solution.
Kind of like when seeking treatment for any condition - there are pros and cons to whichever path you take, and some have more sacrifice and more pay off than others.
Edit: fora not foes!
You poor thing - be kind to yourself. If being kind means asking people to use they/them and dressing masculine, then why not do it? You can present masculine as much as you like. Long term, good quality therapy and some medication is going to be the deeper solution to your distress, but being kind to yourself in practical, temporary ways is also important in the meantime.
It’s not your fault that someone hurt you and by extension your sense of femaleness. If moving into a different presentation makes you feel safer right now, then that’s totally fine. There’s a big difference between medicating and having surgery to resolve what is a trauma issue, and making some changes in presentation to give yourself some sense of self-protection. I present very masculine when I want to feel safer, including changing my walk and body language. I know I’m not a man (though sometimes I still wish I could be) but I find comfort in moving through spaces looking a particular way. Other times I present very femininely.
The person saying you are text book trans hasn’t met the many people here. I frequently hate being a woman and the social expectations that it brings. If I could wake up a young man tomorrow and have the sporting prowess and opportunities that would bring, I would. However, in my mid 30s, I’m glad I’m not a balding, joint-creaking retired rugby player. There are aspects of masculine female identity which are enormously rewarding and I wouldn’t change who I am now for a man of my age.
However, the poster saying you shouldn’t define your identity by another person’s sexuality is 100% right. You need to be who you want to be. But also remember you are just a consciousness in a meat vessel and what that vessel looks like is not important.
As someone recovered from an eating disorder, that objective and dispassionate view of the unimportance of my body (esp compared to my mind) was very important to develop!
Plus sport, travel, living became more important than my eating disorder or gender questioning. I wanted to live life rather than hide from it or keep waiting for it to start when I was thin enough / man enough.