I post this primarily because I see myself in every person who thinks they’re too far gone to detrans. I’m not here to argue anyone’s belief on that, only to say that I was 100% there when I first started to consider the option. I was passing fully as male and figured I’d always look like a man in women’s clothing. Recomp, hair growth, and losing the 50lbs I gained on T changed everything.

There were many nights crying into my boyfriend’s arms feeling like I would never be beautiful. It was a journey of approx 1.5 years to really reach a new normalcy. I will always wonder what could’ve been, and regret what I did, but I am happy. I pass, I am living honestly and my sense of who I am is for once strong. I had to cope with old traumas and the real underlying issues to get here, instead of trying to become someone else like I did for so long. I no longer obsess over gender all day. I can’t say that detrans is right for anyone else, but it is possible, and for me it was worth it.

It may help just to accept that all biological beings have inconvenient bodily processes. None of us really like puking or a runny nose or hiccups. We just deal with them. It doesn’t have to be about identity or anything bigger, and a self loathing mindset does nothing to serve you.

There are ways you can cope with the inconvenience. You don’t HAVE to get pregnant. Adoption is valid, not having children is valid. No woman owes the world a baby. There are forms of birth control that can protect you from pregnancy and skip your periods for you for 3 months at a time or even indefinitely. You can wear sports bras, no bra, or whatever type makes you comfortable. Men have to face adjusting their testicles and them being in the way. It’s life.

And finally, you should consider that transition won’t be an end to every physical problem you have. Many post mastectomy patients have chronic residual pain from the operation, myself included. You could develop an array of reproductive problems from testosterone that could lead to pain and much medical treatment, including the expected course of hysterectomy, which has permanent uncomfortable side effects. Bottom surgery has many complications that can be very permanent. Transition itself may give you negative psychological effects, like feeling “less than” other men, dysphoric, or regretful.

Discomfort is a part of life. Everyone has nuisances to face related to their body. There’s no magical road to evading these things. Internalized misogyny is a likely factor in why you view your own body’s as egregious.

I didn’t start questioning my gender until I was around 16. I was growing up in a homophobic household and had been hiding a lesbian relationship, until that partner of over 1 year told me “she wasn’t gay, I was just special” and our relationship eventually crumbled. My parents didn’t want me to be gay, I was teased at school mercilessly when people found out, and my own girlfriend denounced being gay while with me. I had traumatic physical abuse from my father atop it all, which only escalated as I started to develop severe anxiety and depression. My parents hoped that being exceptionally violent would cure those things and make me ‘toughen up’.

All sense of self worth I should have had was completely destroyed. I hated being a girl who liked girls (I’m bi) I hated myself for being, as people made it seem, weak, pathetic, and worthless. I turned to Internet communities to make up for my isolation. I tried to join lgbt groups and seek support, and ended up in a crowd where being trans was extremely popular.

I saw people who seemed so happy with transition, and everyone around supporting them. It was an absolute echo chamber of good things about transition. It was people defying the norm but from what I could see, being loved for it. I started to consider it. Maybe I was so messed up because I was the wrong gender? Maybe people didn’t like me because I was the wrong gender? Maybe if I transitioned I would be attractive and popular and a totally new person! It seemed so radical, but in all good ways. I saw it as the best way to go on a big journey where I would finally come out happy and without all the self loathing. I’d be a new person with a new slate, right?

The community helped set me up with a ‘gender therapist’ who could refer me for hormones. She was a trans woman, and very eager to get me set up. I saw her twice ever before (and after) being given hormones. She reaffirmed my insane beliefs. She convinced me that I had dysphoria as a child because I agreed that I had a hard time fitting in with other girls. Really I was just a mature kid with anxiety who was forced to hang out with the children of my mom’s friends, who I had nothing in common with. The therapist agreed that my extremely tumultuous teenage life was attributable to dysphoria. She didn’t ask much about the rampant anxiety that at the time was very poorly managed, my romantic/sexual history, or about any of the issues with abuse, identity, etc. It’s hard to cover all that in 2 hours I suppose, and I just wanted my letter anyway.

After the initial manic phase of early transition I quickly became disillusioned. At first I thought it was just that the results weren’t as good as I hoped. I was way fatter, couldn’t grow a beard like I wanted, etc. I got top surgery hoping that was all I needed, but still wasn’t happy. I started to realize I would never feel like a ‘real’ man, even if I looked like one. I had a constant baseline of depression. The void of self confidence I wanted to fill wasn’t filling in the least. I turned to drugs to occupy that space. I was numbed by opiates, benzos, and booze for another year+.

Eventually I rekindled with an old friend from high school. She had recently realized she was a lesbian and was supportive of my being trans. We started hanging out constantly, and for the first time in my life I was around a role model who was a happy lesbian woman. She didn’t completely conform to my narrow view of femininity, she was strong and followed her heart. She made me see womanhood differently. I saw my younger self in her, if I had only realized it was okay to be who I was. I ended up experiencing a deep-seeded jealousy of her because of that. And that is what made me realize the idea of detrans.

Our friendship eventually fell out for that and other reasons, and I went into a several months stasis. I had moved into my own place. By then I had been recently off T due to being fed up with the health issues. I was friendless and alone, which gave me the space to explore. I wore women’s clothing around the house, tried makeup, grew my hair. Most of it made me feel stupid and I felt like I would never look convincingly feminine again.

Still, I kept trying. I tapered off drugs and eventually got clean. I tried proper therapy for my mental problems. I braved up and shopped for women’s clothes in person and found things that actually worked with the body I had and made me look much better. My hair growth helped a lot and when I finally felt myself liking the way I looked for the first time in my life, I knew it was time. I came out as detrans to my family. They had accepted me as trans, (their homophobia and such came a LONG way in those years as times changed) but they readily accepted my re-ID.

Shortly after I met my current boyfriend. I told him very early on, and having heard this story, was very accepting. We were long distance so I started to really focus on myself so that when we met up I would feel great about it. I was already losing weight, learned how to actually do my hair and makeup properly, and being with someone who knew me as a woman was incredibly therapeutic in fostering my sense of self. He was a background force that made me believe I could do it and was worth it. We started meeting and it was wonderful. We now live together.

I know who I am now. I felt like I finally got through puberty on my own as it should have been, without people shoving disorders and hormones down my throat. I realized that it was okay to not be sure of who I was or how I look. It was okay to reinvent. It was okay to be different. It was okay to be who I was. Some days were terrible and that was okay too. I made peace with the bad things I went through, the mental problems I have, my sexuality, my appearance. I started to just be myself and for once have a real sense of self that came from within instead of trying to find it in everything else. I forgot about the entire idea of gender as something that had tormented me for years. Now it just... didn’t matter. I wore what I wanted and presented how I liked. And I am happy.

It’s absolutely one of the most isolating feelings in the world, but I found you really have to accept that life is still going, and if you’re going to live it, you’ve gotta make things happen.

When I was stating to realize I was also very isolated. I could go weeks without talking to people, drugs and alcohol were my friend, I also slept CONSTANTLY. I ended up parting ways with virtually all of my friends, and at that point I had a little bit of a revelation.

I had been living wrapped in tremendous guilt, feeling so stupid, like I wasted my and everyone else’s lives. I had spent $8k on a surgery I was terrified to admit I regretted. But then it hit me. I didn’t hurt anyone. Nobody. Well, maybe myself to a degree, but nothing I did was malicious or destructive to others. I wasn’t the first person to waste thousands on something stupid. I realized that I was the only person that had to forgive myself for it, and from there on I deserved to live without guilt.

Then I had to find acceptance. I started to view what happened as a tragedy that fell unto me, rather than a horrible choice I made. I was failed by many professionals and led down a path that was traumatic for me. This helped me forgive myself and accept my situation, and made coming out again easier. I was a victim of a flawed system. I didn’t deserve it, I do deserve care and healing, and from here I will accept who I am, be proud I survived, and pick up the pieces.

I started to look at things differently. I stopped agonizing over tops that required breasts, and instead focused on my gratitude for those that don’t. Gratitude that most swimsuits have removable cups. I saw them as tools that are here to help me heal. I focused on caring for myself. That has to come first. You’re not the first person to endure a tragedy that alters your body. There are burn victims, cancer patients, people who were simply born different. They deserve to feel good and have things that suit them, and shouldn’t feel bad that not all things do. You deserve the same.

And finally, I realized that life was going on. Whether I liked it or not. My old friends were doing new things, my family was carrying on, I was getting older. I had to become grateful for my freedom to choose, instead of regretful of the choices I made. I stopped agonizing and moved on. I met new people, bought a new wardrobe, let myself be a girl and explore that. I let myself be whoever I wanted and change it at any time. I kept telling myself “I deserve to be here as much as anyone else”.

In the end I found clothes I liked, people who loved me, a partner who appreciates the ways I am unique and accepts me wholly, finally got my finances and weight under control, traveled the country, and found my love of life again. I could have stayed holed up forever, but life goes on. You deserve it. You are here. There is so much more to life than gender and appearances and your past. You are unique and the more you love and forgive yourself, the more good you will attract to your experience.

I gained a lot of weight, 50lbs+. My blood pressure was always high. Increased acne and hair loss, though those are considered common.

A few months in I started having urinary urgency, then pain and even mild leakage. It was to the point where I felt like I had to pee 24/7, and when I did it was extremely painful. I was tested for UTI multiple times. They then thought bladder or kidney infection, which I was treated for. Neither worked. I had a cystoscopy and urodynamics test which were both inconclusive. They advised me to try a special diet and hydrate. I can’t credibly say it was ABSOLUTELY T since my doctors just... didn’t know, but I can say that the only thing that resolved my symptoms was stopping T. I no longer experience any of those issues. And considering T was manipulating the very structure and workings of my genitals, I can’t say it sounds too ridiculous.

It’s also entirely anecdotal on my part, but I firmly believe I feel physically better off T. Clearer, less anxious, and more energy. I slept SO much on T that I wondered if something was wrong with me. There was a rough patch just off T where I felt crappy and had no sexual drive, but it all recovered massively.

The most prevalent permanent change for me was my voice. I am now a woman with a masculine voice. It’s one of the most obvious permanent things from T, and also one of the most noticeable things about me in general. People I meet comment on it and everyone notices. I have had to embrace it, and it wasn’t always easy. Anyone who doesn’t know me addresses me as male on the phone, or in online gaming chats.

I also still grow beard hair on my neck, and my eyebrows are permanently thicker than they were before. I have to shave my neck at least every other day to keep it from being noticed. I also lost hair on my head. I have to part my hair to the side because the top is too thin.

My genitals also kept their testosterone changes, to say the least. I look a little different than most women from the extra growth. It is dramatic, but luckily only the business of me, my partner, and my doctor.

I’ve gotten used to it and reached as far a level of acceptance as possible. Would I love a reverse button that would fix it? Absolutely. But I am comfortable enough with what I have that I can go on and focus on other things. I’m okay with myself or my partner seeing it.

It helped me to get back into wearing bras, even though I could only fit an A cup with push-up padding. The feminine silhouette felt nice and I tried to remind myself regularly that there are many women who have flat chests, or lost theirs to a tragic circumstance. They still have feminine bodies, and so do I.

It’s also okay to allow yourself to admit the few silver linings that came with it. I can now go totally bra free and no one will notice. I can lay on my stomach comfortably, and my partner can rest his head on my chest without obstruction or discomfort on my end. I can run without any bouncing, I don’t burst buttons on button down shirts. I’d trade these things to have my breasts back, but it’s okay to find upsides in what you have.

And eventually you just come to terms with being unable to take it back. From what I’ve researched, reconstruction is complicated and not always aesthetically pleasing, so I have embraced what I’ve got. (My personal choice, not to say that it isn’t right for others) The good news is with prosthetics such as knitted knockers or fancier silicone forms, I can get the look of breasts back, and the underlying is only the business of me and my partner. It’s awesome that those things exist, and my partner has been very affirming that he likes my body.

I spent a lot of time early on obsessing over it and feeling like I was damaged goods, but I found a lovely partner and I can say I don’t think about it nearly as often anymore. The further you get into detransition the more you start to move on to your future, and that’s an awesome feeling when you’ve spent much of your early life being wrapped in identity.

Physically as an ftm I wasn’t large or imposing enough to experience those sorts of things, but there were “ugly” things about the male role I experienced.

The biggest was suppression. Being socially ostracized for liking cute or feminine things. Expectation to like masculine things. Feeling obligated to abandon fashion and other hobbies that didn’t meet the status quo. Posturing and acting cool, even if I wanted to be excited or giddy. A lot more was asked of me physically than would normally be.

There are “ugly” things unique to both genders. Some physical, many social. My life isn’t devoid of ugly social isms after detransition, but some have changed.

I see where you’re coming from for sure. My body had feminine tells even then, but I did pass 100% of the time. Here’s a couple more pics. Strangers read me as male, I even worked stealth under someone who would have absolutely fired me if they knew. Here’s a couple more pictures, if it means anything: https://imgur.com/a/IT10Of2

I am fully aware there are others who have been on T much longer with likely more irreversible change, but I still like to try and be there for anyone standing on the edge of detransition wondering if it ever works out. For me it did!

I initially started by shaving it, but that and my arm and leg hair eventually thinned out and turned blonde again, comparable to pre T. It took quite some time though, probably a year. The only hair that didn’t back off is the beard hair on my neck. It’s still dark and course and requires almost daily shaving.