This story is from the comments listed below, summarised by AI.
Authenticity Assessment: Not Suspicious
Based on the provided comments, this account appears to be authentic. There are no serious red flags indicating it is a bot or a bad-faith actor.
The user's posts display a highly detailed, nuanced, and internally consistent personal narrative. They describe a long, complex journey with specific medical details (e.g., type of T, surgery experiences, atrophy, hair loss), emotional conflicts, and evolving self-reflection over many months. The language is natural, and the user expresses a range of emotions—anger, regret, fear, uncertainty—that align with the genuine experiences of many detransitioners and desisters. The account also shows self-awareness by acknowledging that some accounts on the subreddit are fake, which a troll likely wouldn't do.
About me
I started feeling a deep discomfort with my female body when I hit puberty, and I transitioned to male at 14 with full support from my family and doctors. For years, living as a man felt completely right and I had top surgery and took testosterone. My first real doubt came when I started losing my hair, which made me panic and finally question my path. I now realize my transition was partly a response to my autism and a fear of growing into a woman, and I am deeply grieving the permanent changes, especially my surgery. I’ve stopped testosterone and am trying to find my way back to living as a woman, but it’s a difficult journey with a body that’s been forever altered.
My detransition story
My whole journey with transition and now detransition has been complicated and confusing. I started feeling an intense discomfort with my body when I hit puberty. It was way more than just normal teenage awkwardness. As soon as my breasts started to develop, I hated them. I began wearing sports bras that were way too small to try and flatten my chest, and by 14, I switched to a proper binder. I felt like my voice was too high and I would sometimes go entire days without speaking because of it. I wore oversized hoodies constantly and hunched my back to hide my shape. I felt like I was supposed to be a boy, that I was a boy on the inside, and being called "she" or my birth name felt genuinely painful.
I came out as a binary transgender guy at 14. I was in weekly therapy sessions from the time I was 12, and at 15, I went through a long assessment with a psychiatrist over six months and was officially diagnosed with gender dysphoria. With that diagnosis, a referral from my psychologist, and proof I’d been living as a guy for two years, I was able to start testosterone at 16. My transition felt very smooth. I passed as male quickly, my family was incredibly supportive, and I never faced bullying or people deliberately misgendering me. I had my name and gender legally changed at 18 and got top surgery abroad that same year through an informed consent surgeon. I was the "dream teenager" who never rebelled, and my parents were nothing but supportive.
For a long time, it felt like the right thing. Testosterone felt like it gave me control over my body after feeling so powerless during female puberty. I even lost my lifelong fear of needles because I was so determined to get my T shots. I planned to follow the full path: testosterone for life, a hysterectomy, and maybe even bottom surgery one day. I never had any doubts.
The first crack appeared when I ran into an old childhood friend. She had also come out as ftm when we were 13, but I found out she had desisted and was now living as a woman again. That really shook me and made me question myself for the first time in over five years. The real turning point, though, was when I noticed my hairline starting to recede at 19. The idea of balding in the future was something I’d been theoretically okay with, but when it started actually happening, I felt a wave of panic and regret.
That started me on a path of really examining my feelings. I realized I had a lot of complicated issues. I’m autistic, and I’ve always struggled with socializing and feeling mature. I felt both far behind my peers and more mature than them at the same time, but never normal. I never rebelled, never took risks, and never had the typical teenage experiences with relationships or partying. I think part of my transition was a response to a fear of growing up and becoming an adult woman. I see this echoed in some transgender influencers I used to watch, who seem to be permanently stuck trying to look and live like teenage boys.
I also had to confront a detransition kink I’d had for about two years. I’d get off on reading erotica about being misgendered or forced to detransition, but I always brushed it off as just a kink, separate from my real life. Now, I see it as a sign of my subconscious doubts.
As I’ve started to detransition, a lot of pain has surfaced. I feel deep regret about my top surgery. I wish I had my original chest back. The numbness in parts of my chest makes me feel disconnected from my body, and the idea of getting implants feels like a poor imitation that would require a lifetime of maintenance. The facial hair and masculine features that once made me happy now make me upset. I can shave, but I’m left with a beard shadow that makes it hard for me to pass as a woman, which is what I want now.
My thoughts on gender have changed completely. I used to see identity as very rigid and black-and-white, but now I see it as much more fluid. I don’t think I’m a man, and I’m trying to find my way back to being comfortable as a woman, though it’s hard with a permanently changed body. I don’t blame anyone for my transition—my family, my doctors, or the trans community. I had extensive therapy and assessments, and everyone involved thought it was the right path for me. At the time, it was what I needed to survive; my dysphoria was so bad I don’t think I would have made it to adulthood without transitioning. It’s just not what I need anymore, and those two things don’t have to contradict each other.
I do have regrets, primarily about the permanent changes. I regret the top surgery and the hair loss. I worry about my fertility, though I never wanted children and still plan to get sterilized because I know I wouldn’t be a fit parent due to my autism and struggles with self-care. The biggest challenge now is navigating the world again as a female-presenting person after experiencing male privilege. I’m taken more seriously, I feel safer walking alone at night, and I’m trusted more—it’s scary to think about giving that up.
My advice to anyone questioning is to take your time. I rushed into everything, and I would have benefited from slowing down and really exploring my feelings, my mental health, and any outside influences. It’s a long process to figure out who you are, and it’s okay if that changes.
Here is a timeline of my journey:
| Age | Event |
|---|---|
| 11 | Started weekly therapy sessions. |
| 12 | Began feeling intense discomfort with puberty, started binding with sports bras. |
| 14 | Came out as a binary transgender man. Started using a binder and living socially as male. |
| 15 | Underwent a 6-month psychiatric assessment and was diagnosed with gender dysphoria. |
| 16 | Started testosterone therapy. |
| 18 | Legally changed my name and gender. Had top surgery. |
| 19 | Noticed hairline receding, which sparked my first serious doubts. Reconnected with a childhood friend who had desisted. |
| 20 | Began seriously questioning my transition and decided to stop testosterone. Started the process of social detransition. |
Top Comments by /u/Wonderful_Walk4093:
I was given leuprorelin for two years at age 16 to 18 even though it was entirely uneccesary. I had already gone through the majority of puberty and the testosterone HRT would have overpowered my body's natural estrogen anyway.
Even other medical professionals around my country question this choice by my endocrinologist because he puts every transgender patient on hormone blockers for 2 years, whether thay are 16 or 60, it doesn't matter. It's entirely pointless and presents an avoidable and unnecessary risk.
My brother in law's sister has twins who are both 7 right now but one has been living as a boy since about age 3 or 4. As a toddler he kept saying he's a boy and his parents took it seriously so here we are. I really wonder what the future holds for that kid.
Yeah I remember when a detrans woman called KC Miller posted a video saying she regrets her transition and titled the video "This is what 5 years of testosterone does to a teenage girl" (or something similar). The video was just her venting about her regrets like her severely receeding hairline.
A ftm YouTuber I used to watch, called Ty Turner, responded to her, saying: "I also started hormones as a teenager. 8 years later, I'm a full grown man with a full head of hair. Sorry bald 👋"
I was fucking disgusted with his response. Someone I used to respect being so rude and disrespectful, I lost all respect for him.
I absolutely believe Miles McKenna has Peter Pan syndrome. He went on testosterone for a year then stopped, got top surgery, changed his pronouns to he/they, and has essentially been trying to live as a teenage boy ever since from what I can see, and he's nearly 30.
I used to watch Kovu Kingsrod too. He posted a video recently saying he now considers himself genderqueer and he stopped testosterone. A lot of the things he said in his video sounded like he's going to detransition in the future.
It makes me wonder what's going to happen to the other trans influencers I've seen, in the future.
I used to go to a trans support group early in my transition and I kept in contact with some of the ftm guys in it, and I know that several of them have detransitioned or desisted.
When I reconnected with my childhood friend (the one in my post) though, that hit me much closer to home because we were so close and I related to her so much.
To quote Harry Potter:
Harry: "is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"
Dumbledore: "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"
You didn't make the whole thing up. You didn't fake anything. Your feelings were real. Your feelings now are real too and they don't retroactively invalidate your old feelings. If you were sad yesterday, but today you're happy, you don't say "Oh, I guess I must have just been faking being sad yesterday". Feelings can change and that's okay, it's perfectly normal.
Now, this may not be a popular opinion on this sub, but I'll go ahead and say it anyways as it may apply to you. Some people grow more comfortable with themselves as they transition and kind of forget how bad they used to feel pre-transition, and because they are no longer in major distress from dysphoria they think that means that they're not trans because you have to have major dysphoria to be trans right? But they don't realise that it is precisely because they have transitioned that the distress has lessened, and being misgendered just doesn't hurt as much.
I want you to think; is the reason you don't feel much distress anymore because you have become more comfortable with your body due to the transition steps you've taken? Or is it that you have grown more comfortable with the thought of perhaps being a woman lately? Or any other potential reasons? Just something to think about.
You seem to be very uncertain as of right now so I think you should take a breath, give yourself time to figure out what you want and don't make any impulse decisions at the moment. I'd recommend speaking with a therapist to help you sort out your feelings and doubts if possible, if you aren't already.
I had been in weekly psychologist sessions since I was 12, had an assessment for gender dysphoria that consited of multiples sessions over the course of 6 months and was diagnosed at age 15. With that diagnosis, a referrel from my psychologist, and evidence i had been socially living as male for at least the previous 2 years, I was able to start testosterone at 16. When I got top surgery at 18, it was by informed consent with a surgeon abroad, but my endocrinologist and psychologist were willing to write referral letters if I needed them because at that point I had been steadily identifying as male for 4 years and was content with the changes of testosterone.
I was a very clear cut case of a strongly dysphoric binary trans guy who fit the diagnostic criteria and didn't flag any warning signs that could indicate a future detransition, and yet here I am.
I don't know what more they can do to safeguard, bar predicting the future, to be honest.
I never had doubts about my transition until I crossed paths with an old friend who came out as ftm before I did, and I found out she had desisted.
It really shook me and made me question myself for the first time in over 5 years. I had previously just lived under the impression that I identified as ftm so I would stay on testosterone for the rest of my life, and follow the linear transition path: testosterone, top surgery, hysterectomy, bottom surgery. I never thought to question if that could change, or even if that's what I really want at that point in my transition.
When I was earlier in my transition I really wanted all that stuff, but later on not so much, but it wasn't until I ran into that old friend again that I even considered detransition a possibility.
Tell your friend your story but don't pass judgement on them. Approach them with kindness and understanding, not judgement and doubt. Don't talk about the "gender cult" or rabbit hole or how you think non binary identities are ridiculous. That will just drive a wedge between you, make them dig their heels in on transitioning whether it's right for them or not, and they will lose trust in you as someone they can turn to for advice and support so your words will just fall on deaf ears.
What you need to do is tell them why you transitioned, the reasons that influenced it, and how you came to regret it, and you need to do it with compassion and empathy, not accusatory. Make sure what you say is not at all directed at them, but just about you and your experience.
Now they may listen and reflect on your story, do some self reflection, and that's great, but they also may not. But that's just life, and if they don't listen you need to just let it go. It will be too much mental stress on you to try to "save" them when they are not receptive to anything you're saying and you won't actually achieve anything.
At the end of the day, it's their life not yours and you won't get to make decisions for them so you need to be prepared to go your separate ways if you can't deal with staying in their life if they do transition.
If you do want to stay in their life, I would recommend you support them experimenting and let it be known you accept them no matter what they identify as, but try to discourage medicalization if possible. But try to frame it in a positive way like "you're a valid trans man already without the T" rather than "you'll regret it". Because then they will feel supported and accepted but without medicalization they may grow out of it as they grow out of teenageood.
Yeah I do. I wasn't tall or super attractive, but I passed as male pretty quick on T and went stealth into college. And I definitely think I looked better during transition than I did before because the masculine features I always had suited me when presenting male and helped me pass.
I was surrounded by supportive people, supportive parents, supportive family. I was never bullied or maliciously misgendered, my classmates were always respectful.
I started T at 16, had my name and gender legally changed at 18, and had top surgery at 18. It was a transition many trans guys would kill for and I was very aware of what a lucky position I was in because I knew most trans guys were not offered the opportunities I was due to unsupportive parents or financial problems.
I look back at my transition path and see it was quite smooth and it feels like a waste that I got that instead of someone else when I'm realising now that it's probably not what I needed.
Sometimes it feels like it would be easier to just go forward with transition after all this than backtracking at this point because of everything I would be giving up, and how hard it's going to be to reverse this.