I think this definitely factored in but it was mostly subconscious at the time. I did think I would be respected more, but I was basing that more on having features like a beard that would actually make me look my age. I was constantly treated like a child and getting comments about how young I looked/asked what year in high school I was, and as a person in their mid-twenties it was humiliating. Also was in an age-gap relationship, so that made being seen as a minor all the more uncomfortable.

I think the only male-privilege perk I was fully aware of desiring was not being a target for sexual harassment or assault. I was never much targeted in this way beyond creepy comments from older men, but I grew up in the shadow of #metoo and my sister having been raped repeatedly. I came to realize that I was avoiding my own independence even though I really wanted it because deep down I was completely terrified of being victimized like that. It didn't help that my mother raised me with a lot of projected fear. I fully believed that I would feel safe from that kind of harm after I transitioned, and would finally be able to move on with my life as an independent adult.

Your comment that it "almost has a spiritual vibe to it," brings me back to an epiphany I had at the point of realizing I needed to detransition; that to believe that one was "meant to be" one sex over another is to assert faith in destiny or fate of a kind that only applies to generations with access to both the concept, and realization of gender transition.

This struck me as distinctly at odds with the biological basis theory of gender identity, and therefore a clear example of unexamined cognitive dissonance on this issue. I can't speak for the worldviews of others, but personally, I didn't think I held any belief in destiny until this point. If anything, it really goes to show how easy it is for people to be oblivious to their own beliefs until they are tested on an existential level.

It's maybe more Google friendly as "trans egg culture". But like the others said it is truly mortifying. I mean there's even a trans egg subreddit out there and it's so ridiculously juvenile. Seriously it's all these stupid memes invariably showing someone defying a whole ONE sex stereotype, and asking themself or the internet if that means they're trans, to which the proffered answer is "obviously". I mean, beyond the oversimplification alone, the entire trans community amounts to around 2% of the total population. The fact that "you're trans" is being thrown at folks as the most likely reason for their nonconformity is as statistically unsupported as it is psychologically invasive. Trans egg culture needs to just...not.

I feel you really hard. I was a self- taught singer with big dreams of going professional. Now I have to start from scratch, relearn how to do everything. My voice finally dropping was what made me realize transitioning was the wrong path for me. It's only been 4 months since then, and I'm still grieving over it, but it is getting better.

Give time and training a chance. There are a growing number of surgical options, but I would strongly advise saving that as a very last resort. It's expensive and risky. The voice is a very malleable thing. Yes physiology has limits, but I've realized those limits can be stretched quite a bit. The voice is after all more muscle than anything, and just like any other muscle group, its shape can be altered with focused work outs.

I was terrified at first that I would never feel like my voice would ever be mine again, but I've recently realized that reclaiming my voice is a choice. One day I know I'll be prouder of my voice than ever before because dammit I had to fight for it! That attitude gets me through the bad days. And the good days are getting better.

Finally, and this not voice specific, but releasing blame is paramount at this stage for you to start healing. Understand that you transitioned because you were suffering and were following the best lead you had at the time to resolve it. Just like a growing number of others, you were misled by various factors to believe this was the solution. There's no single thing to pin the blame on. We both got lost trying to find ourselves. You wouldn't get angry at someone for getting lost in their woods trying to find their way, so try not to be angry with yourself. You found your way out, and that alone is a great achievement.

Um cartilage and bone are definitely liable to grow on T. The larynx is mostly composed of cartilage, and mine definitely got larger and stayed that way. My bone mass also increased, but that diminished after stopping T. In order to compensate for more muscle, the bones have to get proportionally stronger or else you could accidentally break your own arms lifting.

To OP - unseemly_gentleman is right about everything else though. It's really up to time off of hormones to see if it changes back. I personally didn't notice a difference, but I didn't pay as much attention to my nose. I've already accepted its Jewish heritage, and can only be thankful I didn't get my dad's Armenian nose...

BUILD YOURSELF UP First of all, your brain is an asshat for telling you you're ugly. Stop validating its bs and tell it to go fuck off. But I was there once, I get it. Your brain is telling you your transition was some horrible mistake, and you should suffer for it. You were stupid and should be punished! It makes a compelling case for you to hate yourself, but let me ruin that for you quickly: The truth you know is the greatest truth until you have a greater, and knowledge is a circumstance - don't go defining yourself by your circumstances, and the only course of action that made sense given them. As Rocky famously said "That's what cowards do, and that ain't you!" (With the left side of his face droopin no less - didn't stop him from becoming an actor!)

OWN YOUR AWESOMENESS Secondly, even IF your ass is ugly af, there's nothing but you stopping you from accepting that you're awesome - not inspite of it, but because you can own it, and kick ass with your head held high. Your scars are proof of the shit that didn't kill you, and if that ain't something to be proud of then idk what is.

STEP UP Some of the ugliest mofos I've ever seen have also been some of the most confident and well-liked. I know of a youtuber who does make up tutorials. She's covered in scars, and lost practically all her extremities to meningitis. Could be crying herself to sleep every night beating herself up for going on that fateful trip where she caught it. She don't tho. Too busy being awesome. There's a brilliant stand up comedian who got burned so badly in war he looks like muthafuckin deadpool. He makes cracks about it on a stage before a full house of people who paid money to laugh with him. There's another fellow survived literally shooting himself point blank in the face (on purpose). Ain't got a nose but nothing can wipe the shit eatin grin off his face. He's not living in the circumstances of yesterday, and the choice he made then - he's ALIVE - he's still breathing TODAY.

FOSTER GRATITUDE I know it's hard right now with all that shame and blame, but as soon as you can shake that off like a dingleberry it'll come easier I promise. Start with the little things: You're literate, have an internet connection, and clean water to wash your ugly mug with. Beyond that dysphoria didn't kill you, transition didn't kill you, covid didn't kill you. You do in fact have a lot going for you.

And you know else? I BELIEVE IN YOU. WE ALL DO AROUND HERE. GET USED TO IT.

I'd like to know this as well. I posted before asking if any ftmtf people have had vocal surgery, but haven't gotten any answers aside from the typical "It's too risky. Make do with what you have." There's more than one vocal surgery option out there, some less invasive than others, and I think this isn't common knowledge for some reason.

I'm personally early in the game - only been off T 4 months, and just started vocal training, but my voice dropped hella hard and I was a singer. It sucks. I feel your pain. I've told myself to give it 7 years before seriously considering surgery since that's the time it takes the body to fully replace all tissues. I feel like I won't really know the extent to which things may heal on their own (well with the aid of training and reiki) until at least then.

As far as aging goes, I'm worried about this too. Maybe hitting the e cream as soon as menopause sets in will help avoid further vocal changes. Either that or by then we won't care as much as we will blend in better with all the other old ladies with deeper voices anyway.

Not anymore. At this point I fully agree with all the other commenters who have put gender identity, and social dysphoria at least, down to incongruence with worthless sex stereotypes. Taking a single sociology course is an excellent means of disassembling how gender roles and presentation originated out of practical considerations, but have now continued long past their relevance.

For example, the tradition of females wearing open-bottomed garb over pants undoubtedly originated with mind to menstrual hygiene, but with the invention of tampons, menstrual cups etc, there is no need. The tradition has arguably been continued for sake of a familiar symbol of female fertility, though of course suggesting this to a happily dress-clad female will only be awarded with a blank stare. Such is the nature of accepted traditions, however useless...

There is yet another Freudian aspect to gender identity and presentation for which I shall use myself as example. I am female, however my features are naturally ambiguous. This presents me with the unique ability to emphasize the traits I would hope to be attractive to a potential mate. Specifically in my case I flex my masculinity to appeal to bisexual men and feminine women. On rare occasion, I switch it up and add feminine flair to catch the eye of more macho males. This subtle change happens so unconsciously though, for the longest time I didn't realize my sexuality was even a dynamic.

That said, I don't believe it is always the dynamic at play, or at least the only one. And here my own nature eludes me. There is a natural fluidity in my gender expression, - I simply have "masculine" and "feminine" days, or moments even - and my love of consistency and order resents this. Fully releasing myself from the need to align consistently with at least a semblance of sex stereotypes certainly seems to be the answer, but in practice that is certainly much easier said than done.

I'll end with saying that as someone who has been completely androgynous their whole life, I admit the idea of being able to assert and defend some personal definition of my uncommon gender experience is still tempting. In the end it's simply too much ado over nothing though. It's annoying to constantly gender myself to others who already have their mind up about what they're looking at, so I simply have quit bothering. I've finally relinquished the lost fight for control over others as far as how I'm gendered goes, and it is as freeing as it is melancholic. But after all, why should I care when gender is only a postmortem reflex of our ancestors? Why, when the only real value of sexual differentiation is reproduction - an undertaking I have zero ambition towards? Why should any of us care so much about these things when those are the facts? Food for thought.

Wow you put most of what I've come to realize about my transition, and have struggled to articulate to others, in one single paragraph. I'm duly impressed and grateful.

I did struggle with some serious dysphoria over having noticeable boobage (still do but I realize it's always been more about the noticeable part than the having them). But really, I've always been very androgynous and nonconforming, and eventually the confusion and mixed gendering of others + dysphoria + anxiety + the trans labeling regime got to me.

No longer was gender associated with body parts that I never let define or limit me, it became a set of qualifications, an affinity, an elusive "feeling". And I failed the woman test. I had seemingly nothing BUT anatomy in common with the women around me. They had that special "something" that made them women, and I felt like an imposter to be mistaken for them.

That's when it really felt urgent to change my body, to be "seen" as other. When I got there, and realized I didn't like the changes from testosterone, I finally asked myself "wtf does it even MEAN to feel like a man or a woman or nonbinary?" What a fucking waste of my time and energy trying to pin down something so ethereal, and repackage myself just to fit a recognizable category...

I'm just so fucking glad it's over and I'm recovering. What a fucking nightmare it all was! But I guess I learned what I needed to, and see where I still need to grow and love myself better so it wasn't a complete loss. Just one hell of a ride.

I can relate 200%. My singing voice was my biggest worry going into transition, and unsurprisingly it ended up being the catalyst for me stopping T ( and spiraling into a huge existential gender crisis...)

I bring good news though! I'm nearly 2 years off T now, and my singing voice has improved tremendously. When you really think about it, it makes sense that it takes a good while for your voice to settle again. I mean, rigid structures in your vocal tract grew very quickly, and that means stretching and tearing of the supporting musculature (which of course is 90% of your pitch control). That shit has to catch up.

Also, after speaking to both a regular doctor and ENT, I learned it's common for it to take 2 years for the edema from a steroid to fully subside. So give yourself at least that long to see what the new normal is going to be.

Some other tips I've picked up along the way I want to pass on:

• Sing every fucking day. Even if it's rough right now. Just keep at it, and focus on songs you don't know by heart. Right now your muscle memory is only going to work against you. Even now, the hardest songs for me to sing are my own because it's so easy to slip back into kinetic recall. Practice new songs to find the techniques that work now, and to establish new muscle memory. Familiar songs will get easier, but you need that new voice map to work for you first.

• The pitch matching will get better. I sounded like complete shit for the better part of the first year. Just give it time. I can now make pretty full use of my entire range which extends from bass-baritone to soprano. I was finally able to access my whistle register again at around the 1.5yr mark. I still struggle to find and control it, but it's there! At this point I can parrot both Michael Buble and LP at the drop of a hat. Play with your resonance, getting used to the way your voice conveys through your different acoustic spaces. I've found this especially helpful when working on my upper range.

• When speaking, remember that the breathier you can make your voice, the more feminine it will read. Listen to how Kate Moennig speaks. Even though our voices are likely deeper than hers, the effect still translates. Set your resonance, then relax your voice and focus on pushing the sound from your diaphragm out through "the mask". I've found sighing out your nose with your mouth closed to be a good exercise for this.

I hope this all helps, and feel free to DM me if you have any questions. IT WILL GET BETTER. You're already making leaps and bounds with the self-acceptance, and that's the biggest hurdle of the healing process. Keep singing! You've got this!