My journey with gender has been long and complicated, and I'm still figuring a lot of it out. I transitioned from female to male when I was very young, a teenager. I'm 20 now, and for the last year or so, I've been in the process of stopping testosterone and detransitioning.

When I first started, I think a lot of my feelings were rooted in a deep discomfort with puberty and my developing female body. I really hated my breasts and felt completely out of place. All of my closest friends were cisgender, straight males, and I think on some level, I just wanted to fit in with them and be accepted. The idea of being a gay woman was scary to me; it felt easier to try and become a straight man. I also spent a huge amount of time online, and I know now that I was heavily influenced by the communities I was in.

I started taking testosterone and lived as a man for several years. For a while, it felt like it solved my problems. But eventually, the feeling that something was off came back. I realized I had been using transition as a form of escapism, running from the reality of my body and myself. I started to feel more non-binary than entirely male. I had this strong wish to stop T and finally, properly, go through a female puberty for the first time, since I had blocked it initially. It was scary because most detransitioners I saw had experienced puberty first, so I felt very alone.

I decided to quit testosterone last winter. The process is slow, and it requires a lot of patience. Your body needs time to readjust, and you can't panic if changes don't happen overnight. It can take many months for things to go back to a more natural state. I've also learned a lot about voice training; even though T permanently deepens your voice, you can train it to sound different, more feminine, by learning to use your muscles in a new way. It’s not about putting on a fake "cute" voice, but about speaking in a relaxed, authentic way.

Throughout all of this, my mental health has been a struggle. I've dealt with depression, anxiety, and very low self-esteem. The thing that has helped me the most is stepping away from the online world. Getting off social media, leaving the computer behind, and just going out into nature to breathe and clear my head has been crucial. It helps me break out of that toxic mind fog and ground myself in reality. It’s a practice in learning to accept myself for who I am, beyond any labels.

Do I have regrets? It's a difficult question. I regret not understanding my own motivations better at the time. I regret that internalised homophobia and a desire to fit in played such a big role. I don't necessarily regret the journey itself because it's brought me to where I am now, and I'm learning to understand myself on a much deeper level. I'm figuring out who I am without the pressure to be a man or a woman, but just as a person.

I'm still me. I'm just on a different path now than I thought I was.