This story is from the comments listed below, summarised by AI.
Authenticity Assessment: Not Suspicious
Based on the provided comments, this user account appears authentic. There are no serious red flags suggesting it is a bot or an inauthentic detransitioner/desister.
The comments display a highly specific, emotionally raw, and internally consistent narrative of a traumatic therapeutic experience leading to unwanted medical transition. The user expresses complex, nuanced emotions (grief, anger, confusion) and provides extensive personal details about their body, mental health history, and the long-term psychological impact, which is not typical of bot behavior. The passion and anger present are consistent with someone who has experienced significant harm, as warned in the prompt. The account does not raise any suspicion of being inauthentic.
About me
My journey started when a therapist fixated on my gender after I changed my name, which planted a seed of doubt in me. I was pressured into identifying as male and felt I had no choice but to medically transition to survive my suicidal thoughts. I was on testosterone for five years and had surgery, all while knowing deep down I desperately wanted to remain a woman. I am now detransitioned and my body is a daily reminder of the trauma I endured from therapists who failed to help me. I am working to reclaim my voice and my life, grieving the woman I never got to be.
My detransition story
My journey started with trauma and a desperate search for help. I was struggling with my mental health and went to therapy, but the therapist I saw fixated on gender when it wasn't my main issue. I had changed my name to something neutral, and she immediately latched onto that as a sign I was a trans man. It freaked me out, and I stopped seeing her.
But the seed was planted. When I saw a psychiatrist to get a referral for a new therapist, I mentioned I wanted someone who could talk about gender respectfully. He immediately asked if I identified as male, which shocked me. I said no, but from that point on, everyone seemed to think my problem was gender.
I was then referred to a counselor who wasn't very good, and he sent me to a woman he called a gender "expert." By this time, I had started binding my chest and using he/him pronouns, but I didn't really know why. I had always loved being pretty and feminine and hated being seen as butch. Yet, I kept cutting my hair short in a style I didn't even like. I became obsessive about it, which I now recognize might be related to OCD.
I knew deep down I didn't want to medically transition. I was terrified of it. I started to believe my mental health problems were because my body was "wrong," even though I'd never wanted to be male. I was afraid everything pointed to me having to be male, but I desperately wanted to be a woman. I thought this new expert therapist would see that I wasn't trans and tell me it was okay to just be a girl. I needed someone to tell me I didn't have to do this.
Instead, she made it worse. At our first meeting, she gave me the code to the men's bathroom without even asking, and I felt like I was in way too deep. Using he/him pronouns felt separate from actually being male to me, but she made it about maleness. I tried to talk about my real problems, like a traumatic psych hospitalization and a difficult relationship with my mother, but she just dismissed them. She never helped me work through my trauma.
The longer I saw her, the worse I got. I became incredibly suicidal. I told her through tears that I wanted to be a woman, that I didn't want to be trans, and that if I was trans, I didn't want to be the kind that had to medically transition. I told her I didn't like men and didn't want to be one. I told her I was vain and didn't want to become ugly or masculine. I loved my singing voice and told her I was afraid to lose it. She coldly challenged me, asking why I couldn't sing on testosterone. She made me feel like my joy didn't matter.
I was so suicidal I emailed her saying hospitalization felt inevitable, which was a huge deal because of my past trauma with hospitals. Her advice was to "eat nutritious fruits and vegetables." She should have gotten me real help. Six days before I started testosterone, I emailed her saying that thinking about T gave me no relief, that I referred to it as "that shit," and that I felt like a broken woman. I said that between death and testosterone, death felt like the less scary choice. I clearly did not want to do this.
But she had convinced me. She compared testosterone to insulin for diabetes, making it sound like a diagnosis I had to accept. I felt I had no control. I started testosterone because I believed it was that or death. The clinic even injected me with a double dose for my first two shots. I remember thinking after my first shot that I could just kill myself in a few years if I lost my singing voice.
I was on testosterone for five years and got top surgery. I remember telling my mom before the surgery that it didn't make sense for someone like me to have to do this. The whole time, I was binding and cutting my hair because I felt like I had to follow these "rules."
For years, I blocked out most of the memories of that therapy. It all came rushing back to me about a year after I stopped testosterone. I realized my therapist never cared about my trauma. She saw my binding and pronouns as my true identity and my desire to be a woman as internalized transphobia. A new therapist I saw recognized my life-long trauma and suspected I have OCD, which can have gender-themed obsessions.
I am now extremely traumatized by what happened. My body feels like trauma itself. I spend a lot of time disconnected, lost in my phone, unable to connect with people or myself. Losing my voice was devastating; it was my connection to the world. Waking up with a deep voice, a flat chest, and a receding hairline is confusing and painful every day. I don’t get to be the amazing, beautiful, talented gay woman I wanted to be.
I stopped testosterone in August 2018. My hormones returned to normal quickly. I’ve been working with a speech therapist to try to feminize my voice, which is a huge struggle. I use Rogaine for my hairline and have had some electrolysis for facial hair. I’m considering breast reconstruction surgery, but I’m being very cautious.
I don’t regret transitioning because I never wanted it in the first place. I regret that a therapist abused her power and failed to help me when I was mentally ill and vulnerable. She took advantage of the fact that I was excessively agreeable and had trouble saying no. My transition was an act of survival under coercion, not an expression of my identity.
My thoughts on gender are complex. For me, it was never about an internal identity. It was about trauma, OCD, and a therapist who misread my distress. I just wanted to be okay in my own body as a woman.
| Age | Date (Approx.) | Event |
|---|---|---|
| 22 | Early 2015 | Saw first therapist who fixated on gender after I changed my name to something neutral. |
| 22 | Mid 2015 | Referred to a gender "expert" therapist. Began binding and using he/him pronouns out of confusion. |
| 23 | Late 2015 | Expressed deep desire to remain a woman and not transition to therapist, who dismissed my concerns. |
| 23 | Early 2016 | Started testosterone, believing it was a medical necessity to survive. |
| 24-28 | 2016-2018 | Lived on testosterone for 5 years, resenting the changes (voice, body hair, hairline). |
| 27 | 2018 | Had top surgery, feeling it didn't make sense for me. |
| 28 | Aug 2018 | Stopped testosterone. |
| 29 | 2019 | Memories of therapeutic coercion returned. Began speech therapy and started Rogaine for hairline. Understood the experience as trauma and OCD-related. |
Top Comments by /u/xyz-roygbiv:
So my journey onto T, etc. is largely documented in this sub, but what I have shared otherwise I guess is a little scattered... although I don' t know that there is much to say. I stopped T in August 2018 and immediately went on NuvaRing for a few months because I was nervous about... everything? I had gotten super thin on T and wasn't sure things would be working properly, but my hormones ended up getting back to normal very quickly. I have had a ton of psychotherapy because coming to realize what had happened to me has been extraordinarily painful. Additionally, working with a speech language pathologist has been SO important for me (both speech- and singing-wise)! I used to be a singer and one of the last things I thought before begrudgingly starting T was that I could just kill myself in a couple years if I couldn't sing so, as you might imagine, vocal stuff has been hugely disturbing over the past several years. I'm hoping I can reclaim the identity of singer/musician.
I have my ovaries in tact and they seem to be in good shape which is a blessing. My hair has grown out nicely and is now sort of blonde and wavy when before it had been brown and straight. I still have increased body hair and have only had 2 electrolysis treatments on my face, but I have plenty more to come. I started spironolactone in August and also started using Rogaine shortly thereafter to fill in my hairline -- spiro doesn't seem to have done much if anything yet (I didn't anticipate it would, but I figured I'd give it a shot). Rogaine has been my savior as I was overly insecure about my modified/receding hairline. I bought new clothes recently and recycled a bunch of old ones and it felt like a really good and necessary fresh start.
This is a meandering answer, but you're welcome to ask questions.
You may very well not be read as male forever. Just after I stopped T, I was convinced that I would be forever be misgendered and unable to use any gendered restroom comfortably, but that has not been the case. That said, it's possible you will continue to be misgendered forever or for a while. It is absolutely fine and good for you to offer a quick little "she, actually" AND you definitely do not owe anyone an explanation or justification of your pronouns or femaleness. No one is entitled to your medical history and you certainly don't need to try to make people feel better by doing a sort of "I understand why you may have misgendered me because I am confusing and masculine in a specific way but actually..." Oftentimes people really do just want to be respectful and, while they may be confused, will be fairly receptive to guidance as to how to do that.
If there are situations in which you think trying it out would be/feel safer to try offering a quick correction, consider starting there and see what happens.
Thank you, I'm trying. It can feel reassuring but can also give rise to some unpleasant feelings about how amazing I was before and how badly I didn't want to have to change. At least I have recovered a lot. Even my mother was saying how she feels like I am back to my old self, voice and all. I'll do my best to hang on to the light.
I had told her I was wondering if T would make me feel better but not because I wanted to look masculine (I definitely did not and was terrified of becoming masc/ugly/unlike myself). I had been hoping she would release me from the craziness that was consuming me because, for a while, I could still understand at least parts of what was happening with me as crazy, but she just pushed and pushed. I remember saying how it was going to suck to not look pretty anymore and hoping that she would respond to tell me I didn't have to do all this. I remember telling her about how my mom would confront me and tell me how feminine I'd been and I'd recount how I would respond to her with things like "why would anyone want to have to do this??" ... and my therapist treated it all as if it were normal. She believed T would make me feel better and I really really wanted to feel better. I just didn't fully understand that trying to learn to be trans was what was making me so suicidal... but I did email her 6 days before starting T explicitly stating that "thinking about starting T provides me with no relief whatsoever" .... so I really don't know what her problem was. At no point was I enthusiastic about the effects of testosterone; I just feared I would die without my singing voice, but she didn't care (me: I don''t want to take T because of my singing voice. her: Why wouldn't you be able to sing on T?! me: But !! My voice is important to me! As it is now! It's about how it makes me feel! Other people don't take T because of their singing voices??) I was losing both my mind and my will to live and she just kept pushing me down.
I will never understand. I really don't think it's comprehensible. The therapist I worked with more recently who sees a lot of trans folks has consistently been astonished, appalled, and essentially devastated on my behalf when she hears about how I was treated.
I appreciated your reflection on my post so please bear with me as I respond in a somewhat scattered way to yours.
First: No apologies necessary -- you can vent and reflect and share as much as you need. I'm really glad you have. You've read much of my story and while we have some differences, I can certainly hear echos of many of my struggles in what you've shared. I was both neglected and abused by the system. I asked for help and assumed that those I turned to were capable of providing me with the appropriate help. Those "helpers" get to walk away and feel happy about doing good and we're here trying to figure out how to pick up the pieces.
It can be hard to see almost anything at all when you feel like parts of you have been destroyed or that you've been severely cheated. It is painful to feel the tug of an alternate reality or what could have been. None of it is fair or right or just and yet it is what we must live with. Once I started waking up and remembering how it felt to be me, I started feeling incredibly suicidal. For me, pain has often been ignited and intensified by memories of my wonderful past self and who I wanted to be. I can sense her, but so much of her resided in my body and voice and those things feel unfamiliar to me now. Like you, I was afraid of medication and the like so that amplifies my confusion about what happened to me. What you said about that really resonated with me. I know if anyone had truly been paying attention to me and my mental illness, I'd not have needed to exit my body and make room for hormones. It makes sense that you feel so desperate and suicidal. You've gone through so much. You tried to survive and you have survived. You're here. And that's really important.
I don't know what your life is going to look like, but I know it doesn't have to end here or because of this. There can be joy and love and beauty in ways you never would have expected even if right now it feels like there's no room for it or no reason to put up with what you have gone through. I get that. Every day I wonder about how to navigate the world in this body and every day I think about what happened. Somehow, it's gotten a little easier. I didn't think I would be alive to see my birthday, but that was almost three months ago and I'm still here. I'm feeling increasingly confident that I'll be around for the next one too.
Sorry to ramble, but I'll end on this:
When I was particularly suicidal earlier this year, my therapist told me to let her hold onto the hope for me. She said that it was OK that I couldn't feel it and that I needed to let her hold it. I hope that you will allow me and others here to hold that hope for you. I know that the pain can be unbearable and that the confusion can feel impossible to process. It's hard. And still, there is hope. I have hope for you just as I try now to maintain hope for myself.
I just read a book about hope (Hope in the Dark by Rebecca Solnit); I'm just going to leave a few quotes from that book here for you. They may not speak to you now or ever, but something in each of them hit me.
- "To hope is to give yourself to the future, and that commitment to the future makes the present inhabitable." (4)
- "Hope is not a door, but a sense that there might be a door at some point, some way out of the problems of the present moment even before that way is found or followed." (22)
- "I believe in hope as an act of defiance, or rather as the foundation for an ongoing series of acts of defiance, those acts necessary to bring about some of what we hope for while we live by principle in the meantime. There is no alternative, except surrender. And surrender not only abandons the future, it abandons the soul." (110)
Please know I'm sending you love and healing energy.
Sooo psychotherapy before transition is actually what led to my medical transition. I was dealing with some shitty mental illness and was really scared that I was trans and had to medically transition even though I wanted to be a woman (???!). My therapist, instead of talking through it all and letting me see that I could be a woman if that's what I wanted, encouraged me to transition and shot down every reason I had for not wanting to transition. Presumably, she thought she was liberating me. It was just the opposite.
For years, I buried my memories of therapy and everything that had gone along with it. It was during the time I was in therapy at my university in 2018 (I was in grad school 2017-2019) that I came to fully realize what had happened to me and became very suicidal and depressed. The therapy services offered at school are limited (students are each allotted 10 appointments and then they have to go to an outside provider), but my therapist at school took really good care of me and saw me a total of 25 times until he was certain I was settled with a new provider. Things got complicated from there and I ended up eventually going inpatient and then spending 6+ months in an intensive outpatient program (both of these were not the best choices for my care but I was hell-bent on staying with my therapist who required it of me -- she actually primarily does trans/gender stuff). My new therapist (I had to switch because of insurance) is really great and I feel safe with him. Because of the weirdness of my illness and the despicable nature of what happened with the therapist I had years ago, therapy tends to be a really weird place for me, but it's getting better.
Rogaine has definitely helped me. I didn't start using it until I'd been off T for a year and it's made a very noticeable difference. I didn't have significant hairloss, but my hairline was a huge insecurity for me and it's really been filling it over the past few months. I just ordered off-brand Rogaine online and hoped for the best. They say you're not supposed to use it on your hairline, but it works just fine there (but if/when it drips onto your forehead you may get some peach fuzz! but that's easily removable).
ughhhh this shit is so exhausting and honestly really inexcusable. People should be expressing curiosity, asking questions, wanting to learn about and with you instead of making statements or guiding you in a certain way. When I learned that everything I was dealing with was internalized transphobia all that meant to me was that nothing I wanted or felt mattered and that was destructive in many ways. I had to be strong and get the treatment I needed no matter how horrible it felt -- not a good thing to teach a person. It would not have been so difficult for my therapist to have talked to me about the specific effects of testosterone, for instance, and done a little weighing of pros and cons. She'd have clearly seen it was all cons. But she just didn't care, honestly. I became very suicidal in her "care" and somehow it didn't even matter to her when I told her I was less afraid of choosing death than I was of taking testosterone. What a piece of garbage.
Basically, to actually get at your question:
My therapist didn't give a fuck about my trauma and I was even actively using the word "trauma" in reference to certain parts of my life. Instead of questioning why I was binding, cutting my hair, and trying out he/him pronouns, she assumed that that was my true identity and that my desire to be a woman, etc, was internalized transphobia. I still don't know why she had no interest in my trauma and seemed never to consider helping me find someone who could actually help me.
Needless to say, I am extremely traumatized from all of this. I blocked out most of our therapy for several years until it all started coming back to me last year. At that point I'd been on T for about 5 years and had had my breasts removed. Suddenly I could remember parts of the above and eventually all the pieces came back and I have fit them together. The therapist I saw over the past year (and to whom I hope to return once I have the requisite insurance) has had no trouble recognizing trauma throughout my life. She has suspected that I have OCD (turns out there can be trans/gender-related themes in OCD -- one would hope a gender ~expert~ would have even a modicum of awareness of such a thing). I think about the shitty therapist every single day and wonder how she did not see the ways in which I was actively being traumatized and destroyed by her. I wonder how she was able to watch me suffer and how she was so easily able to keep her mouth shut or agree with me when I cried about having to do all of this to myself.
My body is a difficult thing to inhabit these days. I spend a lot of my time kind of checked out, being sucked into YouTube or my phone, not connecting with people, and unable to connect with myself. My voice was my connection to the world, other people, and to myself. Envisioning a life in this body is difficult and it never becomes less confusing to wake up with a deep voice, flat chest, and receding hairline. To know that I do not get to fully and genuinely be the amazing, beautiful, talented gay girl I'd wanted to be is really devastating.
In a way, I see my body as trauma itself now.
Me, giving my old therapist reasons I didn't want to transition: But having to pay for everything??? And just trust that I will always have insurance??
Her: Testosterone is really not so expensive and surgery may be covered by your insurance.
lol but lady, I didn't want to transition. I wish she could pay for voice lessons, reconstructive surgery, hair removal, etc now that she fucked me up!! This has been the most expensive and painful disaster of my life and she's gotten away scot-free.