This story is from the comments by /u/detransdyke that are listed below, summarised with AI.
User 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 a bad-faith actor.
The user presents a highly detailed, nuanced, and internally consistent personal narrative of being a female who transitioned (taking testosterone), detransitioned, and now identifies as a gender-nonconforming lesbian. The story includes specific, personal details (e.g., age of transition, duration on hormones, specific health issues like endometriosis, personal trauma) that evolve realistically over the four-year comment history. The perspective is complex, acknowledging both benefits ("I like my changes from testosterone") and severe criticisms of transition as a solution for dysphoria. This level of detail and emotional complexity is difficult to fake and aligns with the passionate, often critical, viewpoints found in genuine detransitioner communities.
About me
I started thinking I was trans at thirteen because I felt so uncomfortable with my female body. I began testosterone at nineteen, but after six months I realized changing my body wasn't fixing the dysphoria in my mind. I stopped the hormones, and I'm now a masculine woman who is comfortable with any pronouns. My short time on testosterone caused severe, chronic health problems that I'll have to manage for life. I've found peace by rejecting gender roles and treating my dysphoria as a mental health issue with therapy.
My detransition story
My journey with gender started when I was a teenager. I was thirteen when I first started thinking I might be trans. I was deeply uncomfortable with myself, my body, and the idea of growing up as a woman. I now realize that a lot of what I felt was just the normal discomfort and confusion that comes with being a teenage girl, but at the time, it felt like a sign that my body was wrong. I thought transitioning could fix that deep-seated feeling of wrongness.
When I brought this up to my parents, it did not go well. My father became physically abusive; he broke two of my fingers when I first told him. Because of their reaction, I wasn't able to medically transition as a minor. I held onto the idea, though, and finally started testosterone injections shortly after my nineteenth birthday. For a while, it felt right. I liked the changes it was making.
But around six months in, I had a realization. No matter how far I went with my transition, I was always going to be dysphoric about something. I realized that changing my body wasn't fixing the problem in my brain. Dysphoria, for me, is a mental issue. I did a lot of soul-searching, talked with my friends, and processed a lot of my feelings. I decided I would rather learn to cope with my dysphoria in my natural body than spend thousands of dollars and years of my life trying to change it, only to still be unhappy.
I stopped taking testosterone. I didn't try to reverse the permanent changes because I actually like them. I like my deeper voice, my body hair, and the other changes. They make me feel more like myself. But they didn't cure my dysphoria. I am a masculine woman, a lesbian, and that's okay. I don't really believe in gender as a concept anymore; I think it's a harmful set of rules and stereotypes. Because of that, I'm comfortable with any pronouns. It doesn't matter to me if someone calls me he, she, or they. I still get read as male by strangers about half the time, and I don't correct them. I just go with the flow.
A huge part of my journey was realizing how much my experience of womanhood was shaped by trauma and societal pressure. Being female in this world can be deeply traumatic. The beauty standards, the misogyny, the constant scrutiny—it makes sense that so many young women want to opt out. I also struggled with an eating disorder, and it's shocking to me now that my therapist at the time treated my body dysmorphia for my weight but was fully encouraging of me transitioning to treat my gender dysphoria. The cognitive dissonance is incredible.
I benefited immensely from a type of therapy called DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy). It taught me skills for mindfulness and radical acceptance, which is how I manage my dysphoria now. It’s a mental health issue, and I treat it with mental health tools, not with hormones or surgery. Leaning into the dysphoria and trying to fix it with physical changes only made it worse for me in the long run.
My time on testosterone, though short, had serious health consequences. It caused a previously asymptomatic chronic illness of mine, endometriosis, to become severe and debilitating. I had to have major surgery to treat it, and it's a condition I'll likely deal with for the rest of my life. I also developed another serious endocrine disorder, Cushing's disease, which I believe was at least worsened by the hormonal upheaval. I'm facing the prospect of brain surgery because of it. These health complications are a big part of why I am so against the idea of transition as a simple, harmless solution. It's not. It's a massive intervention with lifelong, often unknown, risks.
I don't have regrets about my transition in the sense that I learned a lot about myself. I like the permanent changes I got from testosterone. But I deeply regret that I was ever led to believe that medically transitioning was a safe or effective way to deal with my mental anguish. I think the trans community and the medical professionals who encourage this path are often not honest about the risks or the fact that it doesn't actually solve the underlying problem for many people.
My identity now is just me. I'm a detransitioned woman, a butch lesbian. My masculinity doesn't make me any less of a woman. I use the name I chose when I was thirteen; it's my name now, and I have no connection to my birth name. I found peace by rejecting the entire concept of gender and just living my life as who I am: a female person who is masculine. I focus on my hobbies, my friends, and building a life where my worth isn't tied to my body or how I'm perceived.
Age | Event |
---|---|
13 | First started considering myself trans due to discomfort with puberty and my body. Came out to parents; father reacted with physical abuse. |
13-19 | Identified as a trans man but could not medically transition due to parents. |
19 | Started testosterone injections shortly after my birthday. |
19 | Stopped testosterone after approximately 6 months, deciding to detransition. |
20 | Underwent major surgery for endometriosis, a condition exacerbated by testosterone. |
20-21 | Officially began asking close friends to use she/her pronouns, about a year after stopping testosterone. |
21 | Legally changed my name to the chosen name I've used since age 13. |
Present | Live as a detransitioned, masculine woman and lesbian. Manage dysphoria through DBT and radical acceptance. |
Top Reddit Comments by /u/detransdyke:
No matter how well intended, trying to convince her that she isn't trans will only harbor resentment. Try talking with her and asking more thoughtful questions. Point out that women can wear comfortable/masculine clothes and wear their hair short. There's nothing wrong with it. Ask her how she knows she feels like a boy, and what do boys feel like.
Gender detox. Gender isn't what you need. You're a woman by nature of being female, but that doesn't mean anything beyond that. You don't have to be feminine, you don't have to fit the stereotypes of what women are. But slapping a new label on yourself is counterproductive. Just let yourself exist. If you'd like to chat more in depth about ways to do that, you're free to message me. I had a similar line of thought when I was beginning to detrans.
Sounds very similar to my story tbh. You said you don't want to live as either gender--so don't. And I don't mean identify as non-binary, bc that's counterproductive and plays into gender even more. I mean, just let yourself exist without worrying about gender. Your sex is female, and that's enough. I'm living authentically as a butch lesbian now with the understanding that being female ties me to womanhood, but that doesn't mean I have to conform to stereotypes.
In the meantime, I would say staying on hormones isn't advisable while you figure this out.
There’s no right way to be a woman. Masculinized women are still women! Idk if you’re into women but I know lots of lesbians personally who have had mastectomies or been on testosterone (either as part of previous transition efforts or simply as a way to be more comfortable with their bodies), and they still find girlfriends and wives. I didn’t get surgery but I was on T, and I’ve heard from lots of lesbian friends that they think the masculinizing effects are actually kinda hot, especially the deep voice.
I still have dysphoria and am almost exactly a year after getting off hormones. It’s really hard some days, but other days it’s barely noticeable. I’d recommend you look into DBT coping mechanisms, particularly radical acceptance and mindfulness. Figure out some grounding techniques and reconnect with your body for what it is—not for what you wish it could be. Your body is healthy, it takes you from place to place, it can love and be loved, it can move through the world, hear the sound of breeze and birds singing, it can pet dogs and cats, it can wash dishes and feel the sudsy water between its fingers. Those kind of thoughts are what keeps me sane. In a capitalistic society, we are all taught to commodify our own bodies—even people without sex dysphoria. It’s what leads women to get plastic surgeries, it’s what causes insecurity and body issues, because people have disconnected the sense of self from their bodies. Even the language we use around bodies—it isn’t ‘your body’, it’s you. You’re inseparable from it and vice versa.
When a large segment of results are “horror stories” as you said above, it’s worth exposing yourself to these narratives. These people got these surgeries, and you can’t be certain that you’ll have no complications.
At best, neovaginas have to be dilated consistently (which can be painful, tedious, and messy) for the rest of your life to ensure they don’t shrink and close up (because the body recognizes it as a wound, whether you do or not, and will try to heal it). They do not self clean so they also require daily douching. Often, hair removal prior to surgery is not 100% effective so they have hair growing inside. They contain harmful bacteria including fecal bacteria. Most varieties are not self-lubricating, and the ones that are use colonic mucus to lubricate, which is not even analogous to vaginal mucus. Because they are not self-cleaning or ph-balanced, they are prone to both yeast and bacterial infections (like any wound), and there is no way to regulate the PH with things like female-health probiotics, because it isn’t actually a vagina, and the body does not recognize it as such. There are no ruggae inside the neovagina, no cervix, the vulva is unrealistic and usually visibly made of scrotal skin, the fabricated labia minora Close above the neovaginal opening, as opposed to below it like with real vaginas. There are often issues with sensation loss, or complete lack of erotically sensate tissue, because penises already have half the number of nerve endings that clitorises do, and cutting up any part of the body severely damages nerve function. Along with sensation loss, there are issues with urinary incontinence. Because the skin used to create the neovagina is not a durable mucus membrane like real vaginas, they are prone to perforations and rectovaginal fistulas, especially if you’re having penetrative sex. Your surgeon might leave too much erectile tissue and your neovagina will swell and balloon comically if you manage to get aroused.
And yes, that was all best case scenario. Worst case scenarios are as follows. The surgery is botched from the beginning, leaving no erotic and little tactile sensation—the only things you’ll feel are numbness and stinging (quote from an actual SRS patient). The healing process goes wrong, stitches come undone, and your fabricated labia unravel into a gory mess of blood and pus and granulation tissue. If you‘re unlucky enough to live far from your surgeon, no other doctor will know how to help you, because this surgery is uncommon and does not represent any real body part. Your neovagina prolapses, because there are no organs holding it in place, because it wasn’t meant to be there. Your clitoris or labia become necrotic and rot off. You become depressed for a few weeks or a month and don’t have the energy to dilate, and your neovagina closes up, leaving you without a dick or an approximation of a vagina—the only way to fix this is by replacing it with a section of bowel. You end up with chronic infections that are resistant to antibiotics, and have to go over and over to doctors who genuinely don’t know what to do for you.
Also, SRS is an extremely major surgery, and carries with it all the usual risks of surgery. They’re also quite long surgeries, and being under anesthesia for that long is unsafe even when it’s actually medically necessary. I recently had a medically necessary 3.5 hour surgery, and there’s a small but significant chance that you can die under anesthesia. There’s also a very long recovery period, potential for chronic pain, life interfering side effects. Spending 3+ hours a day dilating is already life interfering enough, but add in infections that lead to pain and embarrassing odor/discharge, and you’ve got a recipe for not leaving your home and becoming quite depressed.
Has she tried DBT based therapy? Also, in my experience, dysphoria is a condition that’s aggravated by focusing on it. If she continues to lean into gender as a solution for all her problems, it won’t improve—even with hormones and surgery. The trans movement acts like a body is so easily torn apart and put back together, but we aren’t mr potato heads, you can’t mix and match parts and hormones without harm. It will severely damage her body if she proceeds on this route. I’m about to be 21, was on hormones for six months when I was 19 before realizing that it wasn’t a sustainable treatment for my dysphoria. And in those six months, my previously masked chronic illness (endometriosis) became symptomatic, increasingly so, to the point that I had to take this semester off to have surgery. Hormones affect everything and treating them as an easy treatment for a mental illness is incredibly dangerous. She needs mental care, possibly psychiatric medication to help her stabilize, and she needs a supportive community of people who are there to remind her that there’s no wrong way to be a woman, and that she can be as masculine as she wants without making herself reliant on hormones.
For you, I’d recommend to be extremely clinical about transition. Call “top surgery” a double mastectomy. Call “T” hormone injections. She needs a hefty dose of reality, and not the echo chambers online of trans people.
Had a similar situation. Still ended up detransitioning. I don’t believe in the “Really trans” vs “stupid detransitioning trender who didn’t actually have dysphoria” dichotomy. Many of us were having all the same feelings you’re having and still ended up realizing that transitioning is not sustainable or safe. If you’re looking here for validation, you won’t get it.
Edit: whoever downvoted this, why?
Seek therapy for depersonalization/dysmorphic disorders. You’re only 18, hopefully you aren’t looking to become a parent soon, regardless of mother vs father. The fact that your struggles with identity are framed in parenthood is interesting and I’d recommend you speak with a mental health professional.
I’m more referring to the radfems who say shit like “you’ve mutilated your body” and other bullshit, especially to people who are considering detransition. And then trans people who encourage people away from detransition and say they should just keep going, even though they’re having misgivings. Not to mention the infighting and petty arguments on the posts made my suffering people.