This story is from the comments listed below, summarised by AI.
Authenticity Assessment: Not Suspicious
Based on the provided comments, this account appears authentic. There are no serious red flags suggesting it is a bot or a bad-faith actor.
The user demonstrates:
- Deep, nuanced, and personal knowledge of the physical and psychological effects of HRT and detransition.
- Consistent, empathetic advice that focuses on mental health, self-reflection, and practical coping strategies.
- A complex, introspective narrative of their own experience with dysphoria and body image that is highly specific and not easily faked.
The passion and criticism present are consistent with a genuine detransitioner or desister who has experienced significant distress.
About me
I was born female, and my gender confusion started because I hated my breasts and felt completely disconnected from my body, which was made worse by my eating disorder. I believed this discomfort meant I was really a man, and I even started taking testosterone and considered surgery. But I had to stop binding because it caused me pain, and that forced me to confront the real issues, which were my depression and internalized misogyny. I learned that my dysphoria was actually a reaction to being sexualized and a form of body dysmorphia, not an innate male identity. Now I have fully accepted myself as a woman, and by appreciating my body for its function, I've found a peace I never thought possible.
My detransition story
My journey with gender was long and complicated, and it was deeply tied to my other mental health struggles. I was born female and for a long time, I believed I was a man. I now see that my desire to transition came from a place of pain and misunderstanding, not from an innate male identity.
A huge part of my discomfort was with my breasts. I hated them. I felt completely disconnected from my body, a feeling made worse because I was recovering from an eating disorder. My breasts felt inherently sexual to me, and I believed they made me a target for harassment. I thought that if a woman didn't love her breasts and want to show them off, it must mean she wasn't really a woman. I believed that my ambiguous and bad feelings were a sign that I had a male gender identity. I was influenced by online communities that affirmed this belief, telling me that these feelings meant I was trans.
I seriously considered top surgery and I started binding. But binding made my anxiety worse and caused me real physical chest pain. I had to stop. That forced me to take a step back and really think about why I felt the way I did. I started to work on my underlying issues, especially my depression and anxiety. I realized that a lot of my dysphoria was actually a form of body dysmorphia that was tangled up with my eating disorder.
I began to research and learned that many gender-conforming women have also fantasized about cutting off their breasts, especially those who have experienced trauma or harassment. This was a major turning point for me. I started to see that what I thought was a personal medical problem—gender dysphoria—was actually a reaction to living in a misogynistic society. My discomfort was, in part, a sign of modesty and a deep desire to not be sexualized.
I decided to just live with the discomfort for a while and try to shift my perspective. I gave myself permission to not love how my breasts looked. They are weird! They’re lumps of fat and tissue, and it’s okay to think that. I don't have to find them beautiful to accept them as part of my body. I started wearing comfortable sports bras and layered clothing. I reframed this as a personal fashion choice, not something that defined my core identity.
I began to appreciate my breasts for their function, not just their form. They keep me warm, they’re a soft place for my partner to rest her head, and I may use them to feed a child someday. They don't have to be anything more than that. This process of acceptance and reinterpretation basically cured my dysphoria. Now, if I feel a flicker of that old discomfort, it’s for a minute or two a year, and I can just breathe through it and let it go.
I took testosterone for a period of time. I want others to know that it’s not a magic switch. It can cause metabolic changes and weight gain that might be unavoidable, even if you have a healthy lifestyle. The idea that anyone can just diet or exercise their way to a certain body type on T is misogynistic and unrealistic.
Looking back, I don’t regret exploring transition because it ultimately led me to a place of deeper self-understanding and peace. But I am glad I stopped before making any permanent surgical changes. My journey was a difficult but necessary detour to finally accepting myself as a woman. I needed to address my depression, anxiety, and the root causes of my body image issues before I could see my gender clearly.
| Age | Event |
|---|---|
| 17 | Began experiencing intense discomfort with my body and breasts, worsened by an eating disorder. |
| 19 | Started identifying as male and began socially transitioning. |
| 20 | Started binding and seriously considering top surgery. |
| 21 | Started testosterone. |
| 22 | Stopped testosterone due to side effects and a growing need to re-evaluate. Stopped binding due to pain and anxiety. |
| 23 | Began the process of detransition, focusing on therapy for depression and unpacking my internalized misogyny. |
| 24 | Fully accepted my identity as a female and found peace with my body. |
Top Comments by /u/Dizzy_Incident_3659:
If you're younger than 25, remember that it can take a long time to mentally adapt to body changes, including having developed breasts. In my experience, deciding to live with the discomfort for a few years and try shifting my perspective was the best method of dealing with my dysphoria. I was honest with myself about why I didn't like having breasts---I was dissociated from my body, felt like my breasts were inherently sexual and put me at risk of harassment, and I didn't like the fact that my chest was bulky---I was still recovering from an eating disorder.
I worked on understanding where these beliefs came from, healing from my mental health issues, and basically reinterpreted how I saw my breasts. I decided that binding wasn't worth the health issues (it worsened my anxiety and caused chest pain) but I also recognized that I was under no obligation to display my breasts in a traditionally feminine way. Previously, I thought that normal womanhood = loving and wanting to show your breasts, and feeling ambiguous or bad about your breasts = a sign of male gender identity. I complicated this by learning about how many gender-conforming women express having fantasized about cutting off their breasts, especially those who've experienced assault or harassment. Basically, I now see what I thought was a medical/personal problem (dysphoria) as something that is caused by living in a misogynistic society.
But just knowing that wasn't enough. I had to accept that my experiences were real, and that I had experienced real mistreatment as a result of how my body looked that I was able to partially escape from through transition.
In some ways, I realized my discomfort could just be a sign of modesty/a desire to not be sexualized. And that was okay: some women are able to adapt to (or even enjoy) being seen as a sexual object, but I'm not. I wear comfortable sports bras and layer to downplay the size/shape of my breasts, but I consider it to be a personal fashion choice instead of something intimately connected to my gender identity. I allowed myself to be okay with looking at my breasts and thinking "these look weird"---they are weird! They're big balls of fat and tissue that can transmute my blood into baby food! I like them on other people, but I don't feel terribly proud of my own; I feel neutral but connected to them, in the same way that I don't love how my feet look but still know that they're a part of my body that I would hate to lose. My breasts keep me warm, they're a nice soft place for my partner to rest her head, and I may someday use them to feed my child. For me, they don't have to be anything more than that, and I don't have to love how they look. Coming to this perspective has basically taken care of my dysphoria. I experience it for maybe a minute or two every year or so: I'm able to nonjudgmentally notice it, breathe through it, and let it go within a matter of seconds.
Trying to pass as a woman isn't the easiest or only way to achieve safety and respect in public. As for whether or not you should go on hormones, these forums probably won't give you a more informed answer---it's going to take a lot of self-reflection and risk assessment, so I can't help you there.
If you want to try alternative strategies for making yourself more comfortable in public, here are some ideas:
- Consider moving to a more queer-friendly area, and/or carrying something like pepper spray for self-defense.
- Androgynous outerwear that generally covers most of your outfit--a long coat, a hat, and a pair of big boots, for example. This can help with the mental stress of thinking about safety every time you put together a look. Most guys will struggle to harass you for more than a few seconds over having a kind-of-weird coat.
- Over-ear headphones to cut down on interactions with strangers. Practice a quick response for uninvited comments. "I support trans people too, but I'm just a guy with great fashion sense." "Oh, ok!" --> go about your day.
In general, I think it might be a good idea to try and build up some confidence before thinking further about transition. You say you're only considering it for yourself, but you're still taking into account the fact that you feel insecure around strangers, which likely isn't a feeling that will change a ton if you start trying to pass. I believe that you can build confidence, and I don't think that you need to fit a mold to have a sense of comfort in public.
Facial hair can thin and lighten a bit when you're off T, but you're looking at laser or electrolysis if you want it totally removed. Electrolysis in particular is extremely effective, totally kills the hair at the root so it won't come back, it's expensive but worth it if it's bothering you.
I know you're joking, but testosterone can cause metabolic problems that lead to weight gain in OFABs, even if the person taking it had a completely healthy lifestyle/workout routine going in. Female bodies naturally store more fat, and taking T isn't like flipping a switch---plus, the increase in muscle mass from T can actually cause a person to look bulkier/"fatter" even if their body fat is about the same/slightly decreased from its pre-T state.
The idea that any given OFAB can attain a slim frame by dieting or "just hitting the gym" is, IMO, pretty misogynistic. It's important that anyone who considers taking masculinizing HRT knows that weight gain is a potentially unavoidable side effect.
Work on solving your biggest problem first. You need to put off thinking about your gender and sexuality until you can ease your depression. If you die, you won't be able to figure out/pursue what you want, whether that's joining a support group for Christians who "live with homosexual desire," finding an LGBT-inclusive church where you can work through your self-hatred, or whatever other path seems like the right one to you.
Call 999, get yourself put in a treatment program. If that's not an acceptable option, get an emergency visit with a psychiatrist, be honest with them, and do what they tell you to. Look into lifestyle changes for depression---in combination with medical care, exercise, heat therapy, sleep hygiene and other changes can make a huge difference. When you're thinking more clearly, you'll be better able to work out what you want to do about your gender transition/sexuality.