This story is from the comments listed below, summarised by AI.
Authenticity Assessment: Not Suspicious
Based on the provided comments, the account appears authentic.
There are no serious red flags suggesting it is a bot or an inauthentic actor. The comments display a high degree of personal, specific, and medically plausible detail about detransition, PCOS, endometriosis, and the psychological motivations for both transition and detransition. The narrative is emotionally consistent and reflects the complex, trauma-informed reasons that real detransitioners often describe. The advice given is nuanced and aligns with common experiences in the community.
About me
I'm a woman who transitioned in my late twenties to escape the pain of trauma, sexism, and health issues. I took testosterone for a few months but it only made me feel more alien in my own body. I realized I wasn't running from being female, but from the misogyny I had experienced. Now, I'm detransitioning and learning to manage my health while embracing myself as a woman. I finally understand that my worth isn't defined by my ability to fit into a box.
My detransition story
My whole journey with transition and detransition started because of a lot of pain and confusion in my life. I’m a woman, and I always was, but for a long time I couldn’t see that.
A big part of my story is trauma. I survived domestic abuse, sexual harassment, and assault. I also faced a lot of sexism, especially at work and even from some healthcare providers. All of that made being a woman feel really unsafe and painful. I thought that if I could just stop being a woman, I could escape all that pain. I’m also neurodivergent, and I think that made it harder for me to process everything I was feeling.
I have some health issues that affected how I saw myself, too. I have PCOS and endometriosis. Because of the PCOS, my body produces too much testosterone naturally, and it affected my puberty. My breasts didn’t develop much, which really hurt my self-esteem. I also grew up with a mother who was very focused on beauty and appearances, which made me feel like I could never measure up.
I didn't start thinking about transition until I was in my late twenties, around 27 or 28. I think that’s a hard age for a lot of women. You’ve built up years of these negative experiences, and there’s a lot of pressure about getting older. I’m bisexual and I’ve always been childfree by choice, which sometimes made me feel like I didn't fit in with traditional ideas of what a woman should be. I thought becoming a man would be an escape from all of that.
So, I socially transitioned. I cut my hair very short and bought a whole new wardrobe of men's clothes from a thrift store. After a while, I started taking testosterone. I wasn't consistent with my injections—I think a part of me always had doubts. I was on T off and on for a few months.
The changes I got from testosterone weren't what I expected at all. I thought I’d become a handsome, pretty man, but instead, I just started to look like my younger brother. My face changed in a way that felt weird and puffy, my body odor got really strong, and I had some painful bottom growth. I broke out in acne on my back. I didn't get the other changes people often talk about, like a deeper voice, facial hair, or more muscle. Thankfully, because I wasn't on it for long, a lot of the bigger, permanent changes didn't happen.
The whole experience just made me miserable. It felt like I was adding a new layer of trauma on top of the old ones instead of fixing anything. I realized the problem was never my body or being female; the problem was the misogyny and violence I had experienced. I decided to stop testosterone and throw it all away. I felt immediate relief.
Now, I’m detransitioning. I’m letting my hair grow out and I’m wearing women’s clothes again. I take a combination birth control pill to manage my PCOS and keep my hormones in a female range, which helps a lot with my symptoms. It’s taking time for my body to readjust—it can take years to refeminize after being on T. I’m not 100% happy with how I look yet, but I’m getting more comfortable. Things like wearing makeup, dresses, and eating a vegan diet with soy products seem to be helping me feel more like myself.
I’ve also noticed that now that I’m presenting as female again, I’m dealing with the same sexism and harassment from men that I thought I could leave behind. But now I see it for what it is: their problem, not mine. It’s not a reflection of my worth.
I don’t regret my transition because I learned a lot from it. It was a hard lesson, but it helped me finally understand that I can’t run from who I am. Being a woman is just a biological fact about me, like my height or eye color. It doesn't mean I have to fit into a specific box. I can be a woman who is smart, interested in science and math, childfree, and bisexual. I can wear a pink dress and still be all of those things.
My only regret is that I didn't get the right help sooner to deal with my trauma and self-esteem issues. I wish I had realized that I could work on loving myself as a woman instead of trying to become something else.
Here is a timeline of my journey:
| Age | Event |
|---|---|
| Teen years - mid 20s | Identified as a cis bisexual woman. Struggled with self-esteem due to PCOS, endometriosis, and trauma. |
| 27-28 | Began socially transitioning: cut hair short, started wearing men's clothes. |
| 28 | Started taking testosterone injections inconsistently for a few months. |
| 28 | Stopped testosterone. Began detransitioning. |
| 31 (Present) | Currently detransitioning, letting hair grow, managing PCOS with birth control, and working on self-acceptance. |
Top Comments by /u/CalculusChick:
Hi there! I also began detransitioning after just a few months on T. The only surgery I had was a hysterectomy (kept ovaries), but I actually had it for endometriosis/severe chronic pelvic pain. At the pre-op appointment, I had an ultrasound and I asked the tech to look at my ovaries as well as my uterus. She obliged and took a bunch of photos, and that's how I got diagnosed with PCOS. I had suffered from irregular cycles and adult acne, belly bloat, and other classic PCOS symptoms for decades, but somehow it was just never caught sooner.
It can take a surprisingly long time for your body to refeminize after stopping T, like 2-3 years, so I wouldn't give up hope just yet. It could be that you need HRT (estrogen) or that you have an underlying hormonal imbalance. I take a combination birth control pill continuously (skipping placebo pills), which really helps with my PCOS and endo. I'm not 100% happy with my appearance yet, but I stopped T around the same time as you, so I think it's just a matter of more time and letting my hair grow longer. I also saw a difference after I went vegan and started including more soy products in my diet, like tofu and soy milk lattes. Makeup helps. Wearing more dresses and skirts and women's blouses helps.
I hope things start getting better for you soon, and that you reach out to a compassionate doctor and/or therapist if this just gets to be too much. Detransitioning is hard, but there are medications like estradiol and spiro that can make it easier.
I think your whole face and especially your eyes and smile are very feminine. It may be your haircut or clothes that are reading as slightly androgynous. I'm currently at a point in my own detransition where my hair is starting to get longer, but beanies or T-shirts can accidentally make me look more masculine. You look great, it will all get easier over time.
I have PCOS, so my body makes too much testosterone. I take birth control pills to keep my hormone levels within the right 'female' range. If you don't have PCOS and aren't going through menopause, you probably don't need additional estrogen or HRT, but this is really a question for your doctor.
I was an "older" transitioner. Like you, I'm bi, and throughout my teens and most of my 20s I just identified as a cis bi woman. I'm also childfree by choice, which contributed to a feeling of being misunderstood and not always jiving with traditional ideas about "womanhood". As adult women, we're often expected to be wives and mothers, and criticized if we aren't. I have endometriosis and PCOS, and my PCOS affected my female puberty, to the point where my breasts didn't develop very much. I was still pretty, but it definitely affected me and my self-esteem a lot. I had a mother who was totally obsessed with appearances and set the bar very high, as she was very beautiful and committed to beauty routines. I'm neurodivergent and ambitious, and I have a trauma history that includes SA.
Now, the reason I'm saying all of this is that I think this key to explaining why I started thinking about transitioning in my late 20s, when I was about 27 or 28. In my opinion, 27-29 are some of the hardest years to be a woman, because you have many years of experience and accumulated traumas from being female, and you're also on the cusp of what society considers "not young and hip with the youth anymore". I think I thought that if I transitioned, I could escape the sexism and harassment that had dogged me in my 20s, as well as the insecurity and stigma of becoming a middle-aged woman.
Like you, I wanted to be a "handsome" or "pretty" man. I chopped most of my hair off, bought a bunch of men's clothes from a thrift shop, and eventually started injecting myself with T. I wasn't super consistent with the injections because I think even then when I was in the middle of all this, I had some doubts, but I did take them off-and-on for several months. To my chagrin, I learned that taking T did not make me the handsome prince of my dreams, but a rather ordinary-looking transman who was starting to look like my younger brother. I wasn't a babe - I was just a short grubby-looking little dude.
I remember that my face was starting to change in a way that was weird to me - my eyes looked more angular and not as soft, but I also had a puffy bloated look. Some of my body fat shifted off my hips, and I started breaking out on my back around my shoulderblades. I got stinky. I had a very small amount of bottom growth, and it was quite painful.
Changes I didn't experience: muscle growth, increased strength, facial hair, male pattern body hair growth, balding, voice drop, increased hunger or sex drive.
Thankfully, even though I was on T for a minute, I didn't experience most of the big irreversible changes. This was probably due to some combination of my individual genetics, not always taking my shot consistently, potentially being older, or maybe even luck. I don't know for sure, but I thank God that I quit before I went any farther than I did.
I'm 31 now and very glad that I decided to stick with being a woman. I think I only transitioned because of trauma, but then it was kind of like....the transition ended up being more traumatizing, if that makes sense. I felt a sense of relief as soon as I threw my T and needles away, and now I feel like I'm sort of recovering and on the path to healing. I have a lot of trauma and internalized misogyny to unpack, but I feel like I woke up from a nightmare and I'm embracing being female.
Ultimately you will have to decide for yourself. All I can tell you is that this was my experience, and that T wasn't the panacea I thought it was going to be. I think I just didn't like it. It made me feel tired and sick and I hated feeling like that and not having any hair. Now I feel a lot better and happier.
I had a lot of fear and trauma that came from negative experiences like surviving domestic abuse, being sexually harrassed and assaulted, and facing sexism in the workplace as well as with various so-called healthcare professionals. I don't want to be pregnant ever, and I'm interested in science and math, which is slightly more common and encouraged for men. Before I started transitioning, I felt like I could never be fully accepted as a woman. During transition, I was miserable. After I started detransitioning, I started feeling a lot more at peace and confident. I realized that being smart or scientific isn't about being male - I have every right to study physics in a pink dress and long hair. Being a woman is just a simple biological fact about me, like my eye color and my height, and it was never the real problem. The problem was misogyny and violence against women.
I'd try asking someone at the free clinic then. This may sound a little bit unorthodox, but I think everyone is unique and different things work best for different people. If your ovaries are working properly and producing a normal amount of estrogen, your detransition won't necessarily be slower or faster than anyone else. Most people who take estrogen don't have ovaries anymore, so they're not taking "extra" estrogen, just the regular amount that their bodies need to function. However, with all of this being said, you might try going on a combination pill and find that it benefits you, or that it provides a placebo effect benefit and helps you feel more feminine in a psychological way. The pill really helps me with my acne and other PCOS symptoms, and I have to imagine that it's probably helping with my detransition situation too.
Glad I was able to help! I totally get what you mean when you mention the professional benefits. I didn't experience a change at my workplace, but I found that when I presented in a masculine way, random strangers stayed off my back more, whereas now that I'm detransitioning I'm attracting all of the weird creepy coomers and disrespectful men again. When I started transitioning and got my first haircut, I walked down the street and no one said a single word to me. Not "how you doing", "hello", nothing. Now I get in line at Starbucks, and some weird dude says, "Hey baby, you want some sausage with that coffee? Heh heh heh."
Even though I hate that kind of thing just as much as I did before, I don't take it quite as personally, because I've realized that it's not really about me - just that person's perception of me based on my gender. Most men really don't understand what we go through every day in our everyday lives, and don't think twice about it.
Even though I definitely wouldn't say that transitioning was a good experience, I think I did realize certain things and learn certain lessons that I might not have been able to learn otherwise. My body did change quite a bit in my late 20s and early 30s - I get more aches and pains now, my migraines are more frequent, and my alcohol tolerance is trash. I get hot flashes now and then, and my patience for nonsense and BS is not what it used to be. But I'm no longer terrified of being a woman in my 30s - I think I've learned to appreciate what I have, even if it's not perfect. I might not be a supermodel but it could be worse. I think now I'm more focused on just staying centered, instead of worrying as much about outside approval.