My whole journey with gender started when I was really young, around seven or eight years old. I remember feeling a deep discomfort with my body, specifically with the idea of developing female secondary sex characteristics. This feeling never really went away; it just grew as I did. By the time I was a teenager, this discomfort had solidified into what I called dysphoria. It was a constant, distressing feeling that my body was wrong.

I spent eight years in therapy and tried a bunch of different antidepressants, trying to get my mind to align with my body. Nothing really made a lasting difference. The dysphoria stayed at an unbearable level. I even found that the side effects of testosterone, which I would later take, were more manageable for me than the side effects of all those psychiatric medications. Weed helped me cope sometimes, but I couldn't use it and still function for school or work.

I was always aware of the arguments against transition. I considered myself gender critical and I firmly believed that transition shouldn't be the first option for anyone. But after so many years of trying everything else, I felt I had run out of options. I was nearly 21 and I figured that if I could make my life even a little more comfortable, why wouldn't I? My desire to transition wasn't about wanting to be a man; it was about wanting to be a masculinized version of myself. I just wanted the distress around my female characteristics to stop.

I started to connect with other people online who felt similarly. I found a lot of meaning in the stories of butch lesbians, seeing it as a powerful homosexual female identity. I appreciated people like Leslie Feinberg and the idea of reclaiming that space.

Eventually, I did start taking testosterone. For a while, it did help lessen the intense distress I felt. But my perspective began to shift again. I came to a crucial understanding: that my inability to relate to other women, that feeling of being on the outside looking in, is actually a nearly universal female experience. Most women struggle to find their place. I realized that having dysphoria didn't make me a man. Dysphoria is real and it sucks, but it doesn't change the fact that I am female.

Now, I'm detransitioning. I don't regret trying transition because I felt I had exhausted all other avenues at the time, and it did provide a temporary relief from a very real pain. But my regret is that I didn't have this broader understanding of womanhood sooner. I regret that I didn't have access to spaces that could affirm me as a masculine female without pushing me toward a medical path. I benefited from non-affirming therapy in the long run because it eventually helped me confront these truths.

My thoughts on gender now are that it can be a trap for people who don't fit neatly into stereotypes for their sex. For me, it was an escape from the discomfort of puberty and the pressure to be a certain kind of woman. I don't believe in an internal gender identity anymore. I think we are our bodies, and our job is to find peace with that, however we can, without making permanent changes we might later regret.

Here is a timeline of my journey: