🤔📝 Rethinking Making a Complaint 😤📢
Everyone's Story Matters, Taking Action Makes a Difference.
Between distress and detransition lies a wide range of experiences or stages many detransitioners navigate—often moving back and forth between them. Hope, belonging, euphoria, expectation, disappointment, feeling lost, regret, and anger each bring their own lessons and challenges.
Psychotherapist and author Stella O’Mally describes this as “The Arc of Detransition.” Recently Stella helped me understand the importance of recognizing each of these experiences as valid, common experiences among detransitioners on their path toward detransition. Each stage an opportunity for growth not just a step toward the “end goal,” but as opportunities to grow and emerge from detransition as a more focused, authentic individual.
With these stages in mind, I realize I’ve been vacillating between many of them as the full impact of gender-affirming care on my life becomes more and more apparent over time. Rage and regret are stages I have visited on more than one occasion. During one of these moments, I came across a blog post written by a therapist about making your voice heard and complaining.
It struck a chord, the thought of this had been lingering in the back of my mind. However, as I examined the lengthy template that accompanied it, struggled with broken links to licensing boards, questioned its structure, and began to wonder if I could even piece together the information of my past.
Frustration set in, and I found myself thinking: How could someone looking at this issue from the outside not even maintain a post with such a powerful call to action? How could I trust that they understood the complexity of the situation? I thought; Was this just another therapist cashing in on Trans / Detrans issues? With that, I disregarded the blog post for the next few months.
You see my trust level with therapist’s has become severely compromised.
The therapist I sought out in 2016 diagnosed me with gender dysphoria after just two one-hour sessions. With no gatekeeping in mind, she never explored my history of trauma, internalized homophobia or administered any type of screening to come to a closer sense of rational.
Instead, she affirmed my belief that I was transgender—an idea shaped during a time of heavy dissociation that was also influenced by gender ideology that acted as a contagion in my environment; one that portrayed transition as an answer to my problems. A way to be normal. She provided a letter recommending transition, which other doctors accepted without question, fast-tracking me into medical transition.
A couple of months later, I found myself back in the anger stage, but this time it felt different. I reflected more on the recent insight Stella had offered and realized there was something in that anger worth investigating. Naturally, it was my hostility regarding said “therapist” which led my thoughts back to that blog post, this time prompting me to explore things deeper with one key question:
Do I have a case?
Relocating from Florida, where my transition began, added a layer of complexity. As I reached out to various attorneys, I was met with unanswered emails, miscommunications, and outright rejections. The process of retelling my story to strangers—who may or may not care and may or may not connect me with someone who could help—was beyond intimidating and stressful.
Eventually, I discovered Transition Justice, an organization that connects detransitioners with legal resources. Through them, I met with an attorney who listened to my story and confirmed that I had a valid case. Unfortunately, I learned that the statute of limitations had expired, leaving me unable to pursue legal action.
Of course that was a bitter pill to swallow—especially knowing that a group of professionals profited from blatant disregard for my well-being. But honestly, just exploring this option and being heard by a professional that does care was cathartic.
Reflecting on Stella’s advice, I believe investigating this portion of my anger—to be heard, figure out how to take action, and advocate for myself, was another step toward a more authentic self. It brought things full circle so to speak.
Why File a Complaint? 🤔
Change begins with our stories—sharing them openly and raising awareness isn’t always easy. Thats why we have to do it among the right people. If you are a detransitioner, I encourage you to pause and ask yourself:
🌟 Have you thought about taking action?
📅 Are you within the statute of limitations?
⚖️ Have you consulted an attorney?
📝 If you are not within the limitations, have you considered making a complaint?
🧠 Have you considered the possible mental benefits of making your grievances known?
💪 Did you know that you’re worth making a complaint?
It took me awhile, but I know I’m worth it and is why I filed my complaint.
The truth is unethical and harmful care demands accountability. Filing a complaint is a way to find closure and at the same time shine a light on the system's failures. It’s a way to use your voice —it’s about making sure our stories are heard and showing licensing boards that these unethical practices have real, devastating consequences.
Licensing boards need to hear from detransitioners—the people who have experienced the real consequences of unethical practices. They don’t need more meaningless statistics from LGBTQ+ centers or other “well meaning” organizations that have other agendas. They need to hear OUR stories—raw, personal, and unfiltered.
If we don’t speak up, the only voices they’ll continue to hear will be the unending drone of loud TQ+ activists in their incessant search for validation. Our voices will remain drowned out, our experiences overlooked, and the system will never change.
Making our voices heard is a necessary step toward accountability and reform. This isn’t just about seeking justice for ourselves—it’s about making sure the truth reaches those who need to hear it most. It’s about ensuring no one else has to endure the harm that we’ve experienced.
What’s the Worst That Can Happen? 🤔
The idea of filing a complaint might seem scary. Society often teaches us not to complain, and there are fears of retaliation or judgment. But honestly:
🔒 You’re not filing a lawsuit. As a consumer of a service, this being mental health service, you have rights. Be assured, complaints made to licensing boards are confidential.
🛡️ You won’t face harassment. While waiting for a response might cause you some tension, that’s the extent of the risk. Licensing boards are not in the business of harassing or disrespecting people.
🔄 The outcome is change. Your report underlines that there is a problem and can help influence how these cases are managed, potentially preventing future harm to others.
How to File a Complaint 📝
Each state has its own licensing board for mental health professionals. These boards handle complaints, issue licenses, and enforce regulations. The process might seem daunting, but it’s not impossible.
Here’s what you’ll need to do:
📂 Gather Your Records. Collect any relevant documentation, such as treatment notes, emails, or billing records, and any correspondences that might help jog your memory.
🔍 Find Your State’s Licensing Board. Considering board websites do change, it's not feasible to provide an up-to-date list of all state mental health board websites. I recommend simply searching online for the licensing board in your therapist's state. These websites typically include a section that will guide you through the complaint process.
✍️ Write Your Letter. Take your time. This isn’t something to rush through. Writing your complaint is a deeply personal and reflective process, so it’s important to approach it with care. I’ve adapted the original template from Stephanie Winn, LMFT, titled How to File a Complaint About the Fraudulent ‘Gender-Affirming’ Therapy That Harmed You to suit my needs and provided. I encourage you to make the necessary adjustments you need to ensure it reflects your unique experience.
Im grateful to Stephanie for making such a wonderful tool for detransitioners. Here is how I used it:
Moving Forward ➡️
Filing a complaint can be cathartic. It’s an opportunity to take back your power, stand up for yourself, and demand better for others. Speaking up about what isn't working is a sign of courage and a positive step toward healing.
If the process stirs up difficult feelings, I hope you’ll reach out—for support, advice, or just to share your own story. You are not alone.
Disclaimer: I am not a licensed therapist or attorney, and the information in this article is based on my personal experiences and reflections. While you don’t need a therapist or lawyer to file a complaint with a licensing board, I strongly encourage you to seek guidance and support from licensed professionals if you are in distress or struggling. This article is not medical or legal advice and should not be considered a substitute for professional treatment or consultation.
Awesome writing! So very important and I know very difficult to relive but in doing so you are making such a difference!! I fully believe as more detransitioners speak out their voices can overpower the transgender community!! Currently they always say detransitioning is extremely low but I don’t buy that! Thank you for being brave!!
Thank you so much for writing this. The Licensing Board or Medical Board complaint process should be utilized as much as possible. Until we can change the laws to impose a much longer statute of limitations for "gender affirming care" (which is actually sex-denying harm), this is one of the ways detransitioners can make an impact and hopefully get unethical therapists and physicians disciplined.