My journey with gender started when I was a teenager, feeling deeply uncomfortable with my body during puberty. I was born female, and as I developed, I began to hate my breasts intensely. This wasn't just normal teenage awkwardness; it felt like a profound wrongness. At the same time, I was struggling with depression, anxiety, and very low self-esteem. I felt like I didn't fit in anywhere.

I found a lot of my initial support and ideas online. I joined communities where people talked about these feelings and called it gender dysphoria. It was a relief to have a name for what I was feeling and to find people who seemed to understand. Looking back, I think I was heavily influenced by these online spaces. I was searching for validation and a place to belong, and I found it in the trans community. It became like a new ideology or even a religion for me; it gave me an identity and a group that accepted me.

I started my transition by identifying as non-binary. It felt like a safer first step. But eventually, I became convinced that I was a trans man and that medical transition was the only way to fix the discomfort I felt. I took testosterone for several years. I also got top surgery to remove my breasts. I was absolutely sure this was what I needed to be happy.

For a while, it felt like it was working. The initial high of making a change and the positive reinforcement from my community made me feel like I was on the right path. But the underlying issues—the depression, the anxiety, the feeling of being an outsider—never really went away. I started to realize that I had been using transition as a form of escapism. Instead of dealing with my deep-seated problems, I had put all my focus on changing my body. I also began to understand that some of my discomfort might have been related to body dysmorphia rather than gender dysphoria; I was focusing on my body as the source of all my problems.

The turning point for me was when I stepped back from the community. I saw how, when you're inside it, it's all about validating one specific narrative. Any doubt is seen as a threat. Leaving that mindset felt like committing apostasy. I started to explore my issues through non-affirming therapy, like CBT, which helped me untangle the reasons behind my feelings. I began to see how my low self-esteem and past trauma had shaped my belief that my body was the problem.

I have serious regrets about my transition. The top surgery is permanent, and I have to live with that. I am now infertile because of the hormones, which is a difficult reality to face. I mourn the person I could have been if I had addressed my mental health issues directly instead of being led down the medical path. My thoughts on gender now are that it's a very complex issue, and for some people, like me, medical transition was a drastic solution that didn't solve the root psychological problems. I don't think I'm truly trans; I think I was a confused person who was led to believe that was the answer.

Here is a timeline of my journey based on what I remember: