If You Aren’t Detransitioned Yourself, You Don’t Get To Tell People The “reasons” For Detransition

You are someone. You may not know where you fit in, what your future holds, but you are someone. You will always matter.

It perturbs me when I see people write that detransitioners “were just confused cis women”. At best, it’s a stunning lack of empathy or understanding of our experiences. But often than not, it’s an attempt to neutralize and silence women who are getting too loud or causing trouble.

At no point during my transition or detransition was I “confused”. I was many things, but confusion wasn’t part of the equation. If I had to only one word, it would probably be something like, “deliberate”, “driven”, or “ambitious”.

The insistence that detransitioners are helpless or confused is a two-pronged attack, both a shutdown and a theft. If a detransitioned woman is painted as confused, it implies that she is unable to make a sound choice, and/or can be easily manipulated by an outside force as a result of her confusion. It removes her agency from her story, and casts her in a secondary, inactive role in her own experiences. It renders her story open to reinterpretation by ideologically motivated parties of all kinds (be it conservatives, ROGD moms, doctors/surgeons/psychiatrists, trans activists, people across all parts of the political and moral compass). It’s an old trick; it has been used against women for ages.

Every step of the way, I was doing my best to make careful decisions that were in my best interest. I had a boatload of problems, and when presented with my options, I used what I knew at the time to address those problems as best I could.

I made lifechanging decisions at a young age, with limited information, incomplete knowledge, like all people do. Many of those decisions are not ones that I’d repeat or recommend to anyone else. Many of those decisions led to outcomes that I am not satisfied with, even if other people are satisfied with similar results. I’m especially dissatisfied by the parts of these experiences where I enlisted the aid of outside experts, who ended up causing me more harm than help – real harm, real physical and mental and financial harm. I’m especially dissatisfied by the broader social context I made these decisions in – I’m dissatisfied by things that were outside of my control, and sometimes beyond of my awareness. None of this means that I was “confused” or unable to think critically.

Both then and now, I’ve wanted the very best for myself and those on similar paths. I yelled back then, and I yell now, because we deserve better!

We aren’t confused. We have demands. We want freedom, agency, safety, respect. We want quality medical care. We want improved, honest information made available to people. We want people to listen and actually incorporate our experiences into their workflows, learn from the things that have harmed us, so that they don’t keep happening. We want apologies from those who have caused us harm. We want peer support, actual allies, not just people looking to indoctrinate and use us. We want to be taken seriously. We want these things and more. We want so many things. We wanted these things then, and we still want them now. We haven’t stoped wanting, and therein lies the problem. Nobody likes an unsatisfied woman.

Enduring a trip to hell and back doesn’t make a woman confused, it makes her resilient and pissed off.

I hear, “you don’t have to have dysphoria to be trans” a lot but I never hear the equally true, “you can have dysphoria without being trans.”

the dialogue around detrans people online right now is so fucking awful lmao…. seen threads full of people talking about how they literally do not give a fuck about the struggles of detrans people whatsoever bc we’re “too small of a group” or are “cis so it doesn’t matter”. it’s just like….. so fucked because we literally have all the exact same struggles as trans people? 100% of the same shit? the only line between the groups is one largely of labelling and choices we make w our bodies (which isn’t entirely true, not every trans person medically transitions or stays on hormones and not every detrans person medically detransitions or goes off hormones)

almost every detrans person i know and have talked to struggles with transphobia from strangers on a daily basis. a lot of us are coming out from having been stealth which i have to say has felt exactly the same as coming out the first time. we need the same kind of healthcare that any trans person might need and struggle to receive it for the same reasons. we need the same kind of legal assistance that any trans person might need and often have to go through the same lengthy headache process of getting all our identification changed. we’re at the same risk of violence and harassment for the ways that we look and move through the world. what is the legitimate empathetic reasoning for not giving a fuck about us? and no, “you did this to yourself so you deserve it” is not a legitimate empathetic reason. imo everyone who struggles with gender and presentation socially and/or medically and/or legally is in the exact same boat and we should all be supporting eachother. its kind of hard dealing with knowing that there are tons of people out there actively declaring that they don’t give a shit about me or anyone like me. it makes it difficult feeling comfortable or safe or cared about anywhere 

that reblog saying ‘If you don’t want to be a girl you probably aren’t one’ like.. if you don’t enjoy feeling like a sex object aged 10 you’re probably not a woman like WHAT. I think you guys need to like.. talk to more women :(

Either I genuinely have good ideas in the shower or the lack of ventilation deprives my brain of oxygen to the point where anything seems profound, but I feel like I’ve finally figured out the root of my dysphoria. 

The gap between the way I want to look, act, talk, and be perceived and the way society expects those things of me is huge. Large enough for me to never feel comfortable in my “assigned role”. But at the same time, uncomfortably small. Too small for the expectations to ever be fully out of reach. My deviation from the norm is often seen as unacceptable, but never unfixable. I am still female, I am still a woman, and even if I need to learn absolutely everything about how to woman right, people refuse to give up on trying to teach me. And until two years ago when I came out as a trans man, I largely refused to give up on trying to teach myself. 

I was always confident that my dysphoria was the real, innate, unfixable-without-transition kind, because I genuinely wanted to be male. The idea of getting to be masculine as a woman offered me absolutely no relief from the unbearable discomfort I felt existing inside my own skin. The idea of getting to be male did. Men don’t suffer from this pressure, masculine women do. And while I won’t claim the pressure ever fully disappeared while identifying as a trans man (feeling it very strongly over the past few months is the only reason I’ve managed to come to this realisation), at the very least I was chasing the promise of relief. And the distress when I didn’t fully get it - when I still had to face my body and realise that it looked like something that could fill the role I was and am so deeply uncomfortable with. 

I feel almost stupid for coming to this realisation after being told over and over and over again that trans men are just trying to escape gender roles. But the difference for me is that the way it was talked about from either side never made the dysphoria that could come from this seem real. I’ve attempted suicide over my dysphoria, over the distress at the idea of never being able to become male. I’ve taken a knife to my chest before. I’ve never seen myself smile as wide as I did the first time I saw myself in a binder. I cried from happiness when I got my first packer because my body finally felt right. Everyone around me has told me how big of a change they’ve seen in me since I came out, how much happier I seem. With how dismissive people sound when they bring up transitioning as the result of gender roles, I never could’ve imagined it to be the root of my dysphoria. Mine was real, and severe, and had been with me for as long as I could remember. Any suggestion that seemed to invalidate that was not only offensive, but painful. 

This realisation doesn’t fix my dysphoria and there is very little I as an individual can do to fix the underlying causes, neither for myself nor anyone else. But I wanted to share and maybe get some people to reconsider how they view dysphoria, whether their own or other people’s. I honestly think the way it’s currently talked about is harmful to a lot of people. 

I often see more gatekeeping presented as a way to prevent detransition. And while this wouldn’t necessarily be useless, it’s a bandaid solution. Working harder to root out the “right” people to transition from the “wrong” people to transition isn’t going to eliminate transition regret. To get at why we have to ask, who are the “right” people? Are they the ones are suffering the most or who have been suffering the longest? Are they the most gender non-conforming ones? Are they the ones persistent enough to pass through checkpoint after checkpoint? None of these things insure that transitioning is going to work for someone: that it’s going to improve their quality of life.

When I walked into gender therapy I was suicidal and had been off and on since I was old enough to understand what death was. I was already being regularly mistaken for a boy. I was adamant that I needed this. My therapist called me a “classic case” and still we talked for almost a year before I socially transitioned. I then spent another year living “full time” before starting testosterone and spent my first six months of testosterone on a low dose prescribed by a fairly paranoid pediatric endocrinologist. I met every requirement. I passed every checkpoint. I didn’t take any shortcuts. And still, here I am: a woman, a butch dyke, further from normality than ever, bitter about what happened to me. Because none of those measures addressed my underlying problem.

What we really need if we want potential regretters to not be certain that they need this is a shift in culture. We need environments without misogyny that are affirming of lesbianism and gender non-conformity. We need girls to grow up free from abuse, supported in their mental health and knowing that they can be anything they want to be and anything they are. We need to encourage them to love and live in their bodies and provide immediate solutions if they find that they can’t. Because by the time that many girls step into a gender therapist’s office they’ve already made up their minds, for good reason, that they can’t live this way. 

This may be the oldest known drawing of a supernova, found in the disputed Kashmir region between India and Pakistan. Scholars found this odd rock art with two “suns,” and dated it to 3600 BCE, which roughly coincides with supernova HB9’s explosion.

I saw that you mentioned butch dysphoria ... can you please post resources or just any knowledge that you have? Im trying to figure out who I am.

Hey there, that’s a huge question, but I’ll share a little of what I’ve learned as a dysphoric butch person myself. I know that plenty of butches experience dysphoria to varying degrees, including women who readily identify themselves as cis — it’s way more common among non-trans people than I think most people realize, especially among gay people (but certainly not limited to them)! You are definitely not alone, and you’re also not doing gender “wrong” if you experience discomfort with social roles or gendered aspects of your body but don’t identify as trans. And if you do determine that describing yourself as trans is the best and most accurate way to frame your experience in the world, that’s an ethically neutral decision despite The Discourse™️ suggesting otherwise. Feeling dysphoric also doesn’t mean you need to commit to any one specific course of action to alleviate your discomfort, whether that means binding, using HRT, or getting top surgery, and it also doesn’t mean that you’ve just got some internalized misogyny/homophobia to unpack and once you do your dysphoria will magically vanish overnight with sufficient therapy. It’s complicated and none of have the one “right answer” for what to do about dysphoria and how it shapes our concepts of ourselves!

It definitely does help to do some serious thinking about your dysphoria — what tends to make it flare up, what body parts or social situations it seems to be attached to, how it impacts your daily life — and then work from there to address it a step at a time. I’m dysphoric about my chest, and don’t bind regularly any more due to compression-induced nerve pain (which can and does happen even with high-quality binders), but I’ve done a lot of mental/emotional work on body image to push back against negative self-talk, wear clothing that conceals my chest without actively compressing it (hence that post on 80s fashion, though I dress like a Winchester brother rather than Marty McFly), and do physical activities that help me refocus on what my body can do rather than what it looks like, such as hiking and swimming. Friends with dysphoria (of various gender identities!) report that this combination of mental reframing of your body as Not A Bad or Wrong Thing, distracting yourself from your image on bad days, and doing positive and enjoyable body-oriented activities helps a lot, even when they’ve had surgery, taken HRT, or otherwise mitigated dysphoria physically. Hang in there! You don’t have to have the answers yet (or ever, honestly), but it helps to remember that you are you, fundamentally, and that any realizations you have and decisions you make about how you occupy your body and the language you use to describe it is just part of your continuing evolution as a human being.

i think it's so funny we invented dogs to do so many specific chores (hunting, herding, tracking, etc). i couldn't imagine looking at my cat and being like what if your granddaughters could fold my laundry...