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 demonstrate:
- Personal Experience: The user explicitly identifies as a desister/detransitioner ("myself included").
- Consistent, Detailed Nuance: The views are complex and consistent, acknowledging different experiences (including "genuine" trans people) while critiquing medical gatekeeping.
- Practical, Empathetic Advice: The user offers specific, supportive advice on voice training and body image issues, reflecting a deep understanding of common detransitioner concerns. This level of nuanced, practical support is atypical for bots or trolls.
The passion and criticism align with the expected perspective of someone who feels harmed by their transition experience.
About me
I was born female and transitioned to live as a man because I wanted to escape the discomfort and sexualization I felt as a woman. I took testosterone for a while, which changed my voice, and I've been off it for three years now. I've realized my desire to transition came from anxiety and a deep unhappiness with my body, not from truly being male. I regret medically transitioning, as it was an attempt to escape my problems that didn't work. Now I am learning to accept myself as a woman with a complicated history.
My detransition story
My name isn't important, but my story is. I’m a woman who was born female, and for a period of my life, I believed I was a trans man. My journey wasn't about truly being a man; it was about desperately wanting to escape being a woman.
I think a crucial distinction needs to be made between people who transition because they genuinely feel they are the opposite sex, and people like me, who saw transition as a way out of the problems and discomforts associated with the gender we were born into. In my case, I hated my female body, especially my breasts. I felt sexualized and vulnerable, and I saw becoming a man as a solution, a way to hide and be safer in the world. I think I was also trying to press pause on my own sexual development. For me, binding my chest and the idea of stopping my periods felt like a way to de-sexualize myself and feel less like a target.
I took testosterone for a while. It did change my voice, which is something I’ve had to work on since stopping. It’s been a slow process; I’ve been off T for about three years now and my voice has continued to lighten gradually. I’ve found voice training exercises, especially ones focused on resonance from YouTube tutorials for trans women, to be really helpful. I also find singing techniques useful. It’s a reminder that change is possible, even when it feels slow.
Since detransitioning, I’ve realized a lot of my drive to transition was tied to low self-esteem, anxiety, and a deep discomfort with the female body I had, especially during and after puberty. I don’t think I had a true sense of self. I now struggle with what I think is a form of body dysmorphia. I obsess over my appearance in the mirror, constantly checking and trying to be ‘the perfect woman’ to compensate for everything. I’m trying to break that habit by limiting the time I spend looking at myself and doing small experiments, like not fixing my hair perfectly when it’s windy or not shaving as meticulously, to learn to be more comfortable with imperfection.
Looking back, I was heavily influenced online by the communities I was in. I don't believe my therapists did a good job of exploring why I hated my body so much. They were too quick to affirm my desire to transition, maybe because they were afraid of being seen as transphobic. I think I would have benefited from non-affirming therapy that challenged me to explore the roots of my discomfort instead of just agreeing with my proposed solution.
I don’t regret my entire journey because it led me to where I am now, understanding myself better. But I do regret transitioning medically. It wasn’t the right path for me. It was an act of escapism that didn't solve my underlying problems. My thoughts on gender now are that it's incredibly complex, and for some people, the desire to change it is a symptom of other issues, like trauma or deep-seated self-hatred, that need to be addressed first.
I am a woman. A woman with a slightly lower voice, some physical changes, and a complicated past, but a woman nonetheless. I’m learning to accept that.
Here is a timeline of my journey:
| Age | Event |
|---|---|
| Early Teens | Experienced intense discomfort with female puberty and developing body (puberty discomfort, hated breasts). |
| 19 | Began identifying as non-binary, then as a trans man (started as non-binary). |
| 20 | Started taking testosterone (took hormones). |
| 21 | Stopped taking testosterone. |
| 24 (Present) | Have been off testosterone for 3 years. Voice continues to gradually lighten. Focused on acceptance and healing. |
Top Comments by /u/Downtown_Order_8657:
No I don't think you were being transphobic. I think you're making an entirely fair point, and one that doesn't necessarily need to invalidate the experiences of trans people on the whole: a distinction needs to be made between people transitioning because they feel genuinely as though they are actually male or are actually female, and those - myself included - who thought of transition as a way out of being the gender associated with their sex. Psychologists should be helping identify which side someone seeking transition falls on, but instead they are just assuming that 'hate my body' or 'being a man or woman' equals trans, mainly either because it pays to do so, or for fear of appearing transphobic for daring to suggest someone with a history of hatred for their own body might be seeking a way out of that, rather than pursuing something that will actually make them happier, healthier, and more at peace with themself.
I don't necessarily agree with your assessment of transness as not 'real', but I think there are a few other, significant reasons why people might seek to be seen as the opposite sex:
To escape the negatives of being perceived as the gender you were 'born into'. Oppressive stereotypes exist for both natal females and males, and the grass is always greener...
To hide. In FTM individuals, perhaps this means hiding from unwanted, straight male attention. For MTF, I would guess it's also an effective way (at least in the case of passing individuals) to hide from the violence that femme males often experience.
Linked to the above, but I think there's also a degree to which identifying as trans can be a way to 'press pause' on sexual development, whether male or female. Particularly where someone has been a victim of sexual abuse. In the case of FTMs, binding the breasts and taking hormones to stop periods seems like an obvious way to de-sexualise oneself. In the case of MTFs, perhaps the 'dampening' effect of oestrogen on the male sex drive is as much a draw.
Don't give up on the voice training. It does take some persistence - how long were you on T and how long since you stopped? Over time - and it may take a long time, your voice WILL lighten more anyway. Voice training can speed things up considerably if it's something that is causing you a lot if distress.
However, remember that a low voice does not make you any less of a woman, and many women who never took testosterone have very low voices (I have a friend like this who regularly gets 'Sir' over the phone). Also, how you sound to someone over the phone is not exactly how you sound in life. Most phone calls are not high quality enough to pick up much more than pitch - so it is entirely likely that you sound more feminine in person where people can hear your resonance (resonance is far more important to how people 'gender' a voice anyway, and if you do pursue training, look at exercises that focus on resonance first, as this will be the way to make the fastest progress).
Otherwise, stay strong. Seek support from those in your life who you can trust. This community can also be a valuable resource.
Ok cool - in my experience it will continue to lighten. I've been off about 3 years and there has been noticeable change this past year. It's a slow process I know, but you'd be amazed how much capacity your voice has for change. I also find singing and singing techniques helpful. There are some really great tutorials on YouTube from vocal coaches (including several aimed primarily at trans women) that I found incredibly helpful.
Can absolutely relate to this. I also feel like I strive to be 'the perfect woman' as some sort of way to compensate. My hope is, in time, and with stable relationships (something I've never really had), that might change, and I might be more comfortable with imperfection.
The only suggestion I have is perhaps, given that you are aware of how often you look at yourself, that you limit this time quite strictly. If you notice yourself about to check your image unnecessarily, try to stop yourself and wait until you next need to use the bathroom. Then when you do look in the mirror, limit yourself to fixing your hair if it happens to be messy, or making some other reasonable adjustment. If you find yourself staring or obsessing, walk away. I know it's easier said than done. I think it's habit though. I am also trying small 'experiments', like deliberately not fixing my hair constantly while out for a walk when it's windy (which is pretty much always, where I live!). Or not shaving quite as meticulously once in a while when I'm due to see my boyfriend - I know full well he doesn't care. It's my issue.
I hope this is a little helpful at least x