Watson

I was a 24-year-old woman when I walked into the gender clinic. I had a history of mental health problems, but I was physically healthy and fit. Why did they let me inject testosterone and surgically remove my breasts? Because I said I wanted it. Why didn’t they challenge me?

I got hormones after a few appointments. When doubt set in late 2017-18 I stopped attending the clinic. It’s now 2020 and I haven't heard from them – they don’t even know I’ve detransitioned. When were they going say, since I haven’t had a hysterectomy, I may experience atrophy?

I'm happy for other trans people I really am. I’m happy they’re happy. I wish I could’ve been happy as a transman. I was, for a while. But now? I’m staring reality in the face and I’m miserable. I’m a hormonally and surgically altered woman and I’m not even 30. My body's a mess.

It’s too late for what I want. I want to hug my younger self and assure her she’s fine as she is. All I can do is watch as transition continues to be glorified. Watch these kids as they lap up gender ideology. I bare the scars of it but even I can’t reach them. I'm sorry.

While I’m drunk I’m going to say some uncomfortable truths. Transition has SO much to do with appearing “cool.” The historical figures I respected, fictional characters I liked, people I envied in my life – they were male. I wanted to be like them. I wanted to *be* them. Male.

I hated womanhood. From my core, I despised it. I loathed being a woman so much. So, I transitioned, and all was grand. I felt free? But no, I was still female. I can’t escape that. I had psychological issues that needed addressing – no, not gender affirmation.