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 suggesting it is a bot or an inauthentic user.
The comments display a consistent, deeply personal, and nuanced narrative of questioning, transitioning, and detransitioning. The user shares specific, vulnerable details about their therapy, medical consultations, internal conflicts, and coping mechanisms. The writing style is reflective, emotionally varied, and contains natural digressions and personal anecdotes (e.g., the memory of the Swiss Alps) that are difficult to fabricate consistently. The user also engages in supportive, community-focused dialogue, offering detailed advice (e.g., hair care tips) and empathy to others, which aligns with the behavior of a genuine member of a support community.
About me
I started questioning my gender at 17 because I was a masculine female who felt deep discomfort with societal labels and had past trauma. I found a lot of initial validation online and started testosterone, thinking being a man was the answer to my social struggles. After nearly a year, I realized I never actually wanted to be a man; I just wanted the freedom to be my masculine self. I decided to detransition, keeping my name and style but finally accepting that I am female. I'm now at peace as a masculine woman and believe medical intervention should be a last resort, not a first step.
My detransition story
My whole journey with gender started from a place of deep discomfort. I never really connected with being a girl or a woman, but I didn't feel like a man either. I was just me, a very masculine person who happened to be female. The idea of growing up to be a "female pilot" or a "female doctor" really bugged me; it felt like a label that would always separate me from just being a person.
I had a lot of trauma from my past and I struggled with anxiety and panic disorder, which made socializing hard. I think a lot of my initial feelings were wrapped up in that, and in the stress of dealing with other people's negative reactions to me being a tomboy. I was bullied for my voice, my clothes, and for not wearing makeup. I started to believe that the discomfort I felt was because I needed to be a man to match what I wanted to be on the outside.
I found a lot of validation and a clear path forward in online trans communities. They made it seem so simple: if you have these feelings, you are trans, and transitioning is the solution. My doubts were always silenced or explained away as a normal part of the process. I was told that "everyone feels weird on hormones" and to just wait it out. I was a textbook case for a gender dysphoria diagnosis, and my therapists agreed, so I moved forward.
I was on testosterone for almost a year. I liked some of the changes. I liked my deeper voice because I used to sound like a squeaky toy. I liked the muscle I gained and even the feeling of stubble on my face sometimes. But I also started to feel more and more confused. I couldn't point to a single thing that actually made me a man. The whole idea of what a "man" or "woman" even is started to completely break down for me. I realized I never actually wanted to be a man; I just wanted to be myself in a world that had rejected me for it.
I reached a point where I had to be honest with myself. I realized that even if I wanted it, it's physically impossible to change your sex. I saw studies showing that suicide rates and depression often don't improve after surgery, which confirmed my growing fears. I decided that the medical path wasn't for me.
Detransitioning was scary. I was worried about what everyone would think—my very left-leaning friends, my family. I was scared of losing the comfort I had found. But I learned that I could keep everything I liked—my name, my clothes, my haircut, my pronouns—and still acknowledge that I am female. That was the key for me. I found a way to deal with my dysphoria by focusing on the bigger picture. I’d think about being on a mountain, feeling the sun and the wind, and remember that my body is mine to experience the world with. Gender doesn't factor into that joy.
I don't regret exploring transition because it was a necessary step for me to figure out who I am. But I do have serious concerns about how quickly people are pushed toward medical intervention. I believe it should be an absolute last resort after years of therapy, not a first step. For me, my struggles were more about internalized issues and societal pressure than an innate identity. I benefited from stepping back and working through those things without permanently altering my body.
I’m now just a masculine woman, and I'm finally at peace with that.
| Age | Event |
|---|---|
| 17 | Started questioning my gender identity due to social discomfort and past trauma. |
| 18 | Began identifying as transgender and started testosterone therapy. |
| 18 | After almost a year on testosterone, began to detransition after realizing I didn't want to be a man, just a masculine woman. |
| 19 | Socially detransitioned, telling friends and family. Kept my masculine name and presentation. |
Top Comments by /u/rajaa_:
Johns Hopkins, one of the leading university hospitals in the United States, recently stopped doing sex reassignment surgeries because no long-term, large-sample study following patients has ever shown that quality of life improves after SRS, in fact what they found is that the rates of suicide and depression stay the same or increase.
It's something that is near medical fact, but you'd be hard-pressed to find a doctor who is politically left leaning who will tell you this. It's a shame and a travesty that so many people are led to suffering because some groups have a political motivation to mould others to. Even one case of regret is too many.
What you've been through hasn't been easy and my heart goes out to you, and I'm very sorry this is something you had to go through. I can only hope that you find the strength you need to keep going because there's still a lot out there worth living for. Things will get better someday.
This really hit me. I spent some time trying to say "transition is the right choice for some people" so I don't commit social suicide but I can't believe that anymore. Don't have much to add because you summed it all up pretty well... it's like watching a horror movie and trying to tell the protagonists not to go into the clearly haunted house.
She just told me "I'm actually relieved because I didn't want you to have a hard life and I'm happy for you. Mama bear loves you very much. Can't wait to hug you." And I'll admit I cried a little but I was the only one out of everyone who got very emotional. I think it'll be okay with you too. Parents have rough days but the vast majority really love their children unconditionally.
And the only reason I think one friend might be okay with it is because she sent me a sticker on snapchat that said "I love you" >o< Despite everything I keep up my streaks!!!
It affected me in the way you described, and in these ways:
- instant validation for being openly trans and a subtle implication that being cis was wrong
- vague or wrong information about what dysphoria is (e.x. listing symptoms of depression or anxiety as criterion for sex dysphoria)
- whenever I had doubts they were silenced or I was told they were part of the experience -- "everyone feels weird on hormones, let it wait"
I think I'm going to tell her I don't want medication anymore and see how it goes... and thank you. Maybe we won't need to have a conversation at all, even. I'm really hoping for the best because it's all stress now. It's only just striking me as sad that I got rid of so much of my closet but it can't be helped. Needed a style update anyway.
I don't know what else to say than thank you for this and I agree that the modern trans movement has gone way too far. They tell you that detransition is so exceedingly rare that it must not be considered, or that nobody except someone who's trans would ever consider being another gender, or so on. It's manipulative because evidence suggests more and more that neither of these things are true.
I think the worst thing is telling parents of children that not allowing transition risks their lives ["do you want a dead son/daughter or a live daughter/son?"]. But anywhere from 70-90% of children who think they are trans desist or detransition after or during puberty. Pretending that hormones or blockers are harmless is almost as bad.
I fear that in a few years when the trend dies down we'll have an all new wave of suicides and public health crises on our hands.
Yes. I had and still had gender dysphoria. I was a textbook case for it, in fact. I think all but one diagnostic criterion I could check off. And still can. I even showed all the "signs" as a kid. I was not confused, nor were my mental health professionals confused.
After transitioning for about a year, I found that my GD was alleviated but at a cost. I did like my changes but I realized that I did not want to be the opposite gender, just a very masculine girl.
I also realized that even if I did want it, it is physically impossible regardless of medical, social, or legal interventions, to change one's gender. It just is.
I deal with my dysphoria now by doing this type of thought experiment: imagine yourself on top of a mountain at sunrise. The wind is blowing through your hair, the sky is a perfect shade of pink, the birds are waking up and calling to each other, the sun is warming your skin, the trees are rustling gently. The vast peaks all around you cast long, dark shadows over the land. You can see for miles. You are sitting on top of a tall church spire and can hear cow's bells ringing in the distance as they graze. It seems like you're the only person awake in the whole world.
I've been on the Swiss Alps at this time so this is a memory that is very dear to me. I remember that my body is mine, always and forever, and that I will have experiences like this in my body no matter what.
The wind will always blow through my hair regardless of what I call myself and what other people call me. As long as I have eyes, I will always see beautiful things. As long as I have ears, I will hear them. Until I die, I will feel sunlight on my skin. Gender doesn't even come close to the equation. It's not needed to live my life however I want. Not transitioning wouldn't kill me and it wouldn't keep me from these things.
I also like to remember that the vast majority of people don't care about my gender. And the ones who do, are misogynists and will burn in hell so I shouldn't care what they think anyway.
And finally, I deal with GD by telling myself that I can still call myself a guy and have a guy's name and wear guy's clothes and make people call me "he" and do everything I want... while still being a girl and being myself. As long as I acknowledge that one reality, I allow myself freedom to be me, and it works great because I no longer worry about "presentation" or "passing" or silly things like that.
I really wish there was a better word for it too because I can't connect to being a girl/woman either. But "tomboy" sounds childish (to me at least), "butch" has specifically lesbian connotations, and terms like "stud", "crossdresser", or "transvestite" imply that it's a fetish instead of who you are as a person. New ones like "person with ovaries"/etc are just weird and alienating. I like "female" because it's sterile and medical. But I digress.
It trips me up a lot because in the trans community there's a lot of talk about "trans men/women ARE men/women, biologically and otherwise" which I never got because... if that's was true, then what's the point of transitioning at all? I can't say for certain to what extent I see/saw myself as a man, but it definitely wasn't to that extreme.
I had the same views as you for the longest time--I knew that none of this would change me fundamentally as a person. I guess where we differ is that I never really thought that transitioning wasn't worth it or too important because of that, but now I feel stuck between two worlds. Mostly I'm scared of losing my newfound comfort with myself if I detrans. I guess I need to remember that I can keep my wardrobe, name, haircut, pronouns, and gym routine if I do. Nobody's ever said I have to be permanently in a sundress if I stop hrt, after all.
I definitely don't have all the answers. But it's been very nice to hear from you. There's so much comfort in knowing I'm not alone in this.
I was traumatized at an early age and all the trans community had to say about it was "well that doesn't have anything to do with your struggles with identity"... yeah.
If your hair doesn't grow back then you can get glue in extensions/weave. I know it's not a perfect solution but when it's done right it can look really natural.
There's always been overlap between these communities. I'm still questioning my sexuality but my whole life I've been extremely masculine for a lady. Cargo shorts, short hair, unshaved legs, powerlifting, insisting on being the dominant partner, and all. And I did like a lot of things I got from testosterone! I even like my new voice because I used to sound like a squeaky toy (though I do get paranoid about sounding like a man sometimes this is just conflict with myself and others' expectations, not my own).
I decided to detransition when I realized that I could still have everything I wanted while staying true to my birth sex. There came a time in my transition where all notions of gender broke down for me. I didn't know what a "man" or "woman" was or what makes someone one or the other or which I wanted to be. I realized that I never wanted to be a man, but I wanted to be myself in a world that so harshly rejected me for it.
Aside from that there were always little doubts. Every time I did something transition related, I was nervous and scared of "going back" but I pushed those feelings down. I was always hyperaware of the irreversible nature of things and thought it was just needless worrying.