For anyone considering detransitioning, it’s important to understand that it’s not just about stopping hormones, undergoing surgery, or changing your outward appearance. Detransitioning is a complex, emotional process that involves much more than simply “going back” to the way you previously lived.

This is especially true for those who pursued a more medicalized approach to transition. After living a transitioned life, reversing physical changes won’t address the deeper issues that led you to transition in the first place. If these issues remain unaddressed, there’s a risk of history repeating itself, potentially with even more serious consequences.
My own experience has taught me that healing is essential—for me, this means therapy, self-reflection, and support. Much of my self-work involves unpacking the various reasons that led me to transition. A significant part of my healing process has been connecting with others who’ve walked a similar path, where conversations have proven invaluable to my journey.
In one such conversation, someone uncertain about detransitioning asked me,
“How can you be sure detransitioning is the right choice?”
At first, the question caught me off guard. It had been years since anyone had questioned my choices, and it reminded me of the doubts some people expressed when I first decided to transition—concerns that, in hindsight, I now wish I had taken into consideration.
I explained that, for me, the decision to detransition wasn’t clear-cut at first. I shared that I, too, had lived a male-to-female-to-male transitioned life. I spent years on hormones and underwent surgeries in an attempt to pass as female, believing these changes would bring me closer to happiness and a true sense of self.
To further describe my situation, I shared how I had watched an interview with a detransitioner about a year prior, initially with a critical mindset. I even questioned whether this person was truly transgender. Surely this person was trans-trender1 or some prostitute, I thought. But the more I listened, the more I heard my own story. By the end of the interview, I recognized so much of my own journey in his. I found myself sitting alone in front of the television, in tears, as I felt the illusion I had built around myself begin to crack.
I came to the realization that my transition wasn’t the path to self-acceptance I had been promised. My life long issues had nothing to do with identity. Instead, in reality, I was masking symptoms of severe trauma. It was a way to escape the shame and trauma I had carried for so long. I recognized how much of my decision to transition had been driven by shame, and rather than resolving my issues, I found myself even further from peace, burdened by an added layer of complexity that hadn’t been there before.
I explained to him that even after this realization, I still wasn’t sure whether I wanted to detransition. Coming to terms with the fact that I had been wrong about something as significant as my gender identity was, as they say, a tough pill to swallow. It took a full year of soul-searching and slipping into depression before I felt ready to fully embrace the journey ahead of me. The decision to detransition wasn’t easy, especially after I had invested so much of myself and energy into transitioning. But ultimately, I realized that realigning with my biological self wasn’t just healthier for me—it was a step toward living a more authentic life.
Six months into my detransition, I can say with 100% complete confidence that I made the right decision. I feel happier, more grounded, and more comfortable in my own skin. Clothes feel comfortable again; I no longer feel like I’m in drag every day just to keep up an image. My relationships with others have grown stronger, and most importantly, I feel at peace with myself as a man. For the first time, I actually feel connected to my masculinity—a part of myself I had buried for so long—and embracing it feels natural, grounding, and real.
Are You Questioning Detransition?
If you're questioning whether detransition is the right choice for you, taking some time to reflect on your feelings and priorities would be greatly beneficial to you well being. One simple but effective exercise that helped me early on was creating a pros and cons list. Write down your thoughts and emotions about both staying transitioned and detransitioning. Be honest with yourself about what each path might look like and how it makes you feel. When I did this, it allowed me to confront the truths I had been avoiding—truths that I needed to face in order to move forward. This practice helped me untangle the complicated emotions surrounding my decision and gave me clarity in the midst of uncertainty.
Detransitioning can be an incredibly slow and challenging process, often testing your patience and emotional resilience. It requires you to unpack deeply held beliefs, confront your past decisions, and readjust to reality. But at its core, as I understand it, is about moving forward toward a more authentic version of yourself. The path isn’t easy, but for me, every step has been worth it. I’ve found a sense of connection to myself that I never thought possible, and my journey isn’t over yet. For anyone considering detransition, my hope is that you find the support and clarity you need to make the best decision for yourself.
"Trans-Trender" is a term used to describe individuals perceived as adopting a transgender identity for social validation or attention, rather than due to genuine gender dysphoria