This story is from the comments listed below, summarised by AI.
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's story is highly detailed, internally consistent, and emotionally nuanced. It describes a complex, multi-year personal journey of questioning, desisting, and reflection that aligns with known desister narratives. The passion and criticism directed at the trans community are consistent with the genuine anger and stigma that some desisters/detransitioners experience. The account does not read as a caricature or a propaganda piece.
About me
I started identifying as a trans man a few years ago, changing my style and binding my chest, even though I never liked male pronouns. My friend group, which included trans men, influenced me, and I was determined to get on testosterone despite seeing the negative effects it had on them. Being kicked out of that group and going into pandemic lockdown gave me the space to finally get counseling and confront my mental health. I slowly realized my desire to transition was a trauma response to being sexualized, as looking male made me feel safe. I am now fully comfortable living as a woman and am so grateful I never medically transitioned.
My detransition story
My journey started a few years ago, around mid-2018. I never made a big announcement, but I started socially transitioning in a quiet way. I cut my hair really short, stopped wearing makeup, and only wore my boyfriend’s clothes or baggy outfits. I also started binding my chest. The strange part was that I never actually liked being called he/him. Everyone just thought I was exploring an androgynous style, and I never corrected them. Even though I didn't like the pronouns, I still had a strong desire to go on testosterone.
At the time, my friend group was mostly made up of LGBTQ+ people. Two of them were trans men. One had just started testosterone and the other was about to. I actually watched the one who was on T detransition. The hormones made her sick, and after she sorted her life out, she realized she wasn't trans and now lives as a woman. The other friend, who started T, completely changed into a rude, aggressive person obsessed with policing everyone's language. But seeing all this drama and chaos firsthand still didn't stop me. I was still determined to see a gender therapist and get approved for testosterone.
By early 2020, I had been privately identifying as a trans man for almost two years. Then I got kicked out of that friend group because I refused to put up with their toxic behavior. Right after that, the pandemic hit. I was sent home from college and didn't leave my house for three months. Being isolated forced me to confront my mental health, and I started talking to a counselor. While cleaning my room, I found old makeup and clothes. Slowly, without even planning it, I started to change back. I let my hair grow, stopped binding my chest, and bought comfortable sports bras. I was desisting without even realizing it. (I call myself a desister because I never medically transitioned.)
One night, I looked at myself in the mirror and realized I actually liked my reflection. But I still felt disconnected from being a woman. The whole process of desisting took about a year. During that time, I became okay with she/her pronouns and had to face a difficult truth: my desire to transition was rooted in past trauma, including sexual harassment and groping. When I looked androgynous, men stopped sexualizing me and hitting on me. I was using this appearance as a coping mechanism to feel safe in public. I had always felt disconnected from womanhood since I was a kid, and that feeling, combined with the trauma, made me believe that becoming a man was my only option.
The best thing I did was seek professional help. It started a chain reaction that led to me desisting and realizing testosterone would have been a huge mistake. I have a history of impulsive decisions, which made me a risk for not thinking it through. Being in that LGBTQ+ friend group and being close to trans men also influenced me. Even seeing a "shit-show" wasn't enough to sway me at the time. Looking back, I didn't have real gender dysphoria. There's a idea that gender euphoria means you're trans, but I disagree. I didn't have either. Going on T would have led me down a much darker path.
I will say, if you have more doubt than excitement about transitioning, that's a sign you need to work things out. I'm not here to tell anyone if they are or aren't trans. I just want people to make a careful decision. Socially transitioning and realizing it's not for you is much safer than medically transitioning and facing regret.
I was dealing with suppressed trauma. I'd felt disconnected from being a girl since I hit puberty and started developing; I hated the attention from men and being sexualized. Presenting as male made that stop, which was a huge relief. But I was so confused because I didn't have dysphoria and didn't like male pronouns. The pandemic and therapy gave me the space to finally understand myself.
It's scary how much pressure I felt to go on testosterone. I'm so grateful I didn't. My story is my own, and not every desister has the same reasons. A lot of people think we detransition because of a lack of support, but it's more complicated than that.
Here is a timeline of my journey:
Age | Year | Event |
---|---|---|
Early Puberty | Around 2011-2012 | Started feeling disconnected from being a girl and uncomfortable with sexual attention after developing during puberty. |
19 | Mid-2018 | Began privately identifying as a trans man. Socially transitioned by cutting hair, wearing baggy clothes, and binding. Did not like he/him pronouns. |
19-21 | 2018-2020 | Was part of a LGBTQ+ friend group with two trans men. Witnessed one detransition and the other become aggressive on testosterone. |
21 | Early 2020 | Was kicked out of the friend group for not enabling toxic behavior. The pandemic lockdown began. |
21 | Early-Mid 2020 | In lockdown, started counseling. Began to desist unconsciously: stopped binding, let hair grow, found old feminine clothes. |
22 | 2021 | Had a moment of realizing I liked my reflection. Over the year, accepted she/her pronouns and understood my transition desires were linked to trauma. |
22 | Late 2021 | Fully desisted. Felt comfortable as a woman and understood my past confusion. |
Top Comments by /u/pushedoffthelilypad:
Hi. I’m not a parent, but as a young (biological) girl, I played with Hot Wheels and Transformers while simultaneously loving Bratz Dolls and Polly Pocket. I liked “boy” cartoons and “girl” cartoons. I didn’t like dresses, but that doesn’t mean I vowed never to wear one… etc etc
I was very tomboy-ish, especially since I loved sports. Had I been a child in these current times, my parents probably would’ve assumed that I was trans.
The best advice I can give is the following:
- Let your kid be a kid
- An 11-year-old is not mature enough to understand or comprehend a decision like this; it’s not temporary… those choices will involve your child evaluating every aspect of their life (relationships, medical bills, bodily changes, etc)
- I don’t want to say that this is a “phase,” but at the same time I remember being 13 and thinking I knew who I was and what I wanted to do for the rest of my life… 10 years later, holy shit was I wrong
- Don’t think that HRT or another form of medical transition is the way to go right now
- Be careful with pronouns
- With all due respect, a lot of the people in the trans community are decent people and they have good intentions… But when you start taking advice from someone who believes there are 50+ genders and thinks it’s okay for a literal child to start medically transitioning, that’s not healthy. It’s also like this: Just because it worked for them, doesn’t mean it’s going to work for your child.
- At the end of the day, you have the final decision/say in the matter right now. Your child isn’t even a teenager yet; even then you’re gonna be making decisions they might resent.
- Take a deep breath. What’s the rush? I understand you want the best for your child, but if you try to speed things up to get to the solution, it’ll all be one big mess.
- There are 18 to 25-year-olds (and even people in their 40s) who experience the same mindset as your child… There’s an assumption that the older you are, the more confident and mature you seem to be. Again, be cautious. I’ve seen people who felt one way at age 12 and then at 25 they realize “Holy shit, this isn’t what I wanted” (Referring to a few detransitioners here)
- Nothing is set in stone. It’s okay for there to be a whirlwind of emotions.
- There’s something called gender euphoria… And frankly, euphoria is a temporary feeling. If there’s euphoria instead of dysphoria, then what is there to “treat” or “fix”?
- Lastly, I’d consult a generic counselor/therapist for your child’s mental health and current headspace. I don’t recommend a therapist who focuses solely on gender identity / transitioning at the moment, because I believe there’s something else going on with your child. You might wanna exclude any other mental health conditions before assuming they have full-blown gender dysphoria. (For example, my partner doesn’t have it… but their ADHD is having them fixate on their gender identity and it’s not healthy. Currently trying to get them into therapy.)
If you need to talk or have me elaborate on anything, feel free to message me.
Edit: spelling errors
From their recent behavior, I think they’re really trying to “prove” something. I’m thinking about taking a few days to myself. At the same time, if I leave this alone and they’re continuing to get validation from online strangers who don’t actually know them….. Is there even hope? 💔
When someone barely leaves the house and spends most of their time online—getting “validation” and reaffirmation from strangers about their gender identity—do you consider that to be a significant red flag? Do you think it’s even worse when they don’t want to discuss the potential negatives of transitioning?
This.
My partner was misgendered once over the phone and is now trying to revolve their whole identity around she/her (after less than a month of contemplating these pronouns).
I’m 98% sure they’ve been radicalized by the online trans community on TikTok and Twitter, which has frankly become an absolute joke. The fact that they have ADHD (impulsivity + hyper-fixations) certainly doesn’t help. And now my partner isn’t thinking properly and gets incredibly defensive over the simplest questions and concerns that I have.
Thoughts?
Unfortunately, a lot of the embarrassment comes from how people outside of community view trans people (i.e. that we’re radical, that all of us are on TikTok and we believe that there are “a million genders,” etc)…
A lot of trans people are level-headed, but they get drowned out by the absurdity of so-called “activists” who believe that literal children should medically transition and call anyone who simply disagrees with them a “TERF.”
With that being said, not every trans person agrees with other trans people. If the embarrassment comes from insecurity or personal issues, that’s perfectly understandable.
When I was privately identifying as a trans man, I was in a friend group that “thrived” on the fact that a majority of us were LGBTQ+ (I had revealed that I was pansexual, so I “counted”). We had at least three trans people (who were out) in the group: two trans men and a trans woman. Our age range, given that this was college, was roughly 19-24.
(Using aliases here.) One of the trans men, “Kyle,” was very comfortable with people knowing that he was trans, but at the same time he didn’t make it his mission to remind everyone constantly or whine over the smallest of things. The trans woman, “Megan,” had yet to medically transition, so she was struggling but had our full support. Meanwhile, the final trans person, “Gregory,” became a total asshole once his transition began. This dude got physically violent and threw something over a minor disagreement involving the topic of trans athletes. Megan and Kyle had started their transitions long before Gregory, so there was some jealousy issues over how much progress they’d made. When he finally got on T, Gregory made it a point to gatekeep any discussions involving trans people. That ultimately solidified my decision not to reveal my own trans identity.
I was eventually kicked out of the group because I wasn’t going to enable Gregory’s behavior. Kyle panicked and took Gregory’s side (because he was smaller and I think Gregory’s size intimidated him). Last I heard, he’s trying so hard to cut Gregory off. Megan, meanwhile, was ostracized because she wasn’t sure if HRT was right for her at the time (this was around late-2019). She left the friend group on her own because she feared for her safety and mental health. No surprise here: Gregory is still a huge asshole.
TL;DR: I feel like a lot of embarrassment about one’s trans identity, or coming out as trans, lingers in who they associate / have history with. A large majority also don’t wanna be mistaken for the cringelords on TikTok who blindly support anything trans-related and claim that there are “a million genders.” Some of us will never get over the embarrassment, whether it’s presently or in hindsight.
This.
What I didn’t mention in my post was that there were some trans men in my friend group at the time I was questioning my gender identity. It was a very LGBTQ+ group (though that wasn’t “the intention” as we all just seemed like chill people). During my crisis, my depression was bad and I told one of these trans men he was being rude and getting triggered over everything, and when he got physically violent and threw an object, I told him I wasn’t going to enable his behavior.
I left the group, even though they’ll claim they kicked me out. Last I heard, they view me as a transphobe. Gee. Sorry I’m not gonna conform to peer pressure and accept toxic behavior.
To preface: this was a few years ago (mid-2018). I socially transitioned under people’s noses; even my boyfriend didn’t realize it and we practically lived together. I cut my hair as short as it was go, stole my boyfriend’s clothes / wore baggy outfits, stopped wearing makeup, binded my chest, etc. The “weirdest” part? I actually didn’t like he/him pronouns. My friends and partner just assumed I was experimenting with androgyny, and I can’t blame them (because I never had “the talk” with anyone). Despite not liking he/him pronouns, I still yearned to go on T.
Now, I associated with a group of individuals, a large majority of whom were a part of the LGBTQ+ community. Two of these individuals were trans men. One was about to start medically transitioning and the other had just started T. Now, I actively saw the detransition of the one of who was already on T. Turns out, it made her sick and after getting her shit together in her personal life, she realized she wasn’t trans and (today) identifies as a cis woman. The one who began to go on T, completely changed. He turned into a raging asshole and became obsessed with telling our friend group “not to gender anything.” But his behavior, and watching my other friend’s detransition, wasn’t what made me decide not to medically transition. Yeah, that’s right. Despite witnessing all this drama and chaos first-hand, I was still insistent that I consult a gender therapist and get approved for T.
By early-2020, I was still privately identifying as a trans man. It had been almost 2 years. I eventually got kicked out of the friend group because I refused to enable toxic behavior (from multiple people). Then the pandemic hit. We were all sent home. I didn’t leave my house for almost 3 months. Being at home made me confront my mental health, and I eventually got into contact with a counselor. I cleaned out my room and discovered some of my makeup and old clothes. Before I knew it, my hair was growing longer. I stopped binding and decided to get myself a comfortable sports bra. I was slowly starting to desist without realizing it. (For clarification, I refer to myself as a desister rather than a detransitioner because I did all but medically transition.)
One evening I was about to brush my teeth and got a proper look at myself in the mirror. I realized that I liked my appearance. But I was still disconnected from what it meant to feel like a woman. All in all, it took an entire year for me to desist. In that time, I realized I was “okay” with she/her pronouns, and I was left to confront a terrible truth: I was transitioning due to past trauma (some of which involved sexual harassment and groping). When I appeared androgynous, I noticed that men stopped approaching me and/or sexualizing me. No creeps were approaching me for my number, etc. It took me forever to realize that I was using an improper coping mechanism that could make me feel safe in public. But you have to understand, I was already disconnected from what it meant to be/feel like a woman; I had felt that way since I was a child…this, combined with my trauma, led to me believing that I had to be a man (as in, what other choice did I have?).
The best advice I can give you: seek professional help. And I don’t mean that to be sarcastic or sassy. Professional help was the first step; it led to a chain reaction of me desisting and realizing that T would’ve been a huge mistake. (People who have a history of impulsive decision-making are especially at risk for not thinking this through, even if they believe they’re trans.) The fact that I was in a large LGBT-oriented group and I was close to two trans men didn’t help. Even witnessing a shit-show wasn’t enough to sway my urges. In hindsight, I didn’t have actual gender dysphoria…but there’s a common misconception that gender euphoria is also an indicator of being trans. I disagree. (To be fair, I had neither.) Medically transitioning by going on T would’ve led me down a darker path if I’m honest.
I will say this: If there’s more doubt than excitement/comfort to transition, that’s a sign that you should try to work things out. I’m not gonna tell you whether or not you are trans. I just want you to make a proper decision; it may take some time, but I want you to be happy and comfortable with yourself. If you socially transition and you realize, in the end, you’re not trans… I still think that’s better for your health / safer than medically transitioning and experiencing regret or another crisis.
TLDR; Past trauma and feeling “disconnected” from my assigned gender + femininity led to me thinking I was a trans man. I lived this way (privately) for almost 2 years. The pandemic happened. I sought professional help, desisted, and I’ve learned to be more comfortable with myself. In hindsight, going on T would’ve left me with unwanted, permanent changes. I’m thankfully every day that I fought the impulsive urge to see a gender therapist. With that being said, some people in the trans community view me as a “trans man in denial” for several reasons (especially since I didn’t come out to people and kept my identity to myself). And I think you should just be aware that, while some in the trans community have good intentions, others will gaslight and manipulate the hell out of you. They gatekeep what it means to be trans, while referring to those in this subreddit as “cosplaying TERFs.” (Overall, they’re not very supportive of desisters and detransitioners despite claiming to be inclusive and understanding.)
I was dealing with suppressed trauma. Granted, I already had trouble connecting to my female identity; but that didn’t necessarily meant I was supposed to be a man. It was a very confusing and painful time. Ever since I hit early puberty and developed, I’ve been sexualized by a lot of people. When I identified as a trans man and was presenting differently, there was comfort in the fact that no creeps were approaching me or harassing me.
Despite all that, I didn’t like he/him pronouns and I actually didn’t have gender dysphoria. I was so confused. Then pandemic hit and when I was sent home from college, I focused on my mental health.
It took a while and it certainly wasn’t an overnight revelation. I sought counseling and we’ll over a year later, here I am, learning to embrace my true self. What’s scary is I felt the urge and pressure to get on testosterone when I was a trans man. In hindsight I’m glad I didn’t. It would’ve led me down a darker path.
With that being said, not all of us are the same. We have different stories. The most common belief is that we detransition or desist because we don’t have a support system to accept us. But like I said, we’re all different.
Definitely, and it’s tragic.
There are good people in the trans community. But a large majority seem to be incredibly toxic. I’ve witnessed this first-hand and over the internet.
At the same time, I understand some of their views towards desisters and detransitioners. Our stories might scare them or lead them to doubt themselves. If they’ve already medically transitioned, the freak out will be worse. What I wish they’d understand is that we share our stories to normalize detransitioning because it’s considered “taboo” by the trans community. Nobody’s perfect, and some of us made mistakes for a number of reasons.
What I really don’t fucking like is how they under-report the number of detransitioners. I’ve seen people say the statistics are 0.002% to 1%. I can say with complete confidence, there are more of us than they realize. And if the statistics are low, it’s because we’re demonized for sharing our stories. As a result, other detransitioners don’t feel comfortable coming forward. Now wonder the statistics of detransitioners are so fucking lower.
We’re silenced…