As a child, I don't think I could say I was particularly gender nonconforming. I hated wearing dresses to school, but that was because I wanted to run around and goof off, and frilly dresses got in the way. I loved my barbies (though I also liked to rip their heads off) -
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- and I liked to sit around and plan what my wedding dress would look like. I also got super embarrassed whenever someone pointed out a really pretty girl. I didn't know why. I conformed to the gender expectations put on me, but I tried very hard to conform to everything.
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I was always torn between my shyness and insecurity, and my LOVE of friendship and desire to be accepted. English is technically my second language, and though I speak it perfectly now, as a young child I was always kind of alienated for not speaking like other kids.
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Up until 8th grade, I loved school, and I had so many friends. Sometime near the end of 8th grade though, I began to feel depressed. My family put a lot of expectations on me at times, and they were not at all very emotionally supportive or affectionate. I felt alone.
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Around the time I turned 12 and started seeing other girls dating boys, wearing makeup, getting popular, it started to sink in that I was not like them. I couldnt stop thinking about a cute girl in my English class. I couldnt name a top 40 song. I was pudgy. My hands were sweaty.
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I liked some things other girls liked, like One Direction or Justin Bieber, but it was always to an extreme, so I was once again, a weirdo. Not like the other girls. I always felt everything to an extreme. I wish I knew other girls did too.
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Around the time I turned 13 I began to develop an eating disorder. I began to self harm. I have scars to this day on every limb of my body. I still can't go one day - one hour - without thinking about my weight or calories or purgeing.
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My parents didn't take my problems very seriously. Theyre older (almost 60) and my mom is a Polish immigrant, so they view things like that a little differently. At this point, I had no friends, and thought about suicide every day. The summer before high school, I found Tumblr.
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Tumblr changed my life. When I opened my laptop, or unlocked my phone, I was whisked to a world that wasn't mine. A world where I could talk about classic rock or my favorite things and not go red in the face. A world where no one could see my body or face unless I wanted them to
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At first, I dove deep into "Pro-Ana" eating disorder culture on tumblr. We all told each other we were valid and how to hide it around our parents, who wanted us to be fat. We told each other how to get diet medications off the dark web. We told each other how to lie to doctors.
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I HATED my body. My body was and still is my greatest enemy. I could never be enough. I didn't understand why the universe chose me to feel like this. No matter what I put my body through the feelings didn't go away, there had to be something - ANYTHING - that could save me.
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In October of 2013, the beginning of my 10th grade year, EVERYTHING changed. I know this because a couple months ago I went through my old Tumblr archive. I was so shocked.
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Over the span of two weeks that October, the posts on my blog had gone from fandoms, depressive posts about my life, and the OCCASIONAL feminist opinion, to queer, trans, genderfluid, nonbinary, demiboy, valid, problematic, cishets, gender. Every last word. Like a virus.
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I remember it being a roller coaster. At first (for like, a week) I was a "cis ally". But something was building inside of me. I watched Skylar Kergil on youtube. Skylar said he knew he was a boy when he had a crush on a girl and felt gross imagining being with her as two girls.
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Trans boys always hated wearing dresses, and would scream until they were off. So did I. But these kids had always known... I couldn't possibly be trans. But I'm an intelligent person. I overanalyzed every thought and action and word in my life until I made it make sense.
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At first it wasn't "Im a boy", it was "Im anything besides a girl." As if it was a dirty word. The way boys say it on the playground. I imagined how I would feel if my body was a boys. CORRECTION: I imagined how Id feel if my chubby, acne covered body was a tall, lanky, boy body.
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The trans boys in those videos.. They showed before pictures of their old selves with scene bangs and acne and curves in all the "wrong" places. They looked like me then. Now they looked like the result when you google "hot tumblr boys." They laughed at those before pictures.
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If I could never become one of the black and white faceless thigh gaps, then maybe I could become the beaming boy with the swooping hair who say's his muscles really started showing up after T. He used to be a girl like me. I was meant to be a boy. I have always been a boy.
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After "coming out" on tumblr, my followers skyrocketed. I was never super popular, but had around 3,000 at one point. Before, I couldn't have had over 600. I created a queer Harry Potter network. It amassed hundreds of members, mostly trans. We didn't take too kindly to cisgays.
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My goal went from diet pills to testosterone. From UGW (ultimate goal weight) to transition goals. From fantasies about slicing off my thigh fat to slicing off my breasts. I bound them with duct tape. I couldn't breathe. It made me panic, but I felt brave.
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For the 1st time my parents couldnt tell me I didnt know what I was talking about, or that I was too young, or that I had to be a certain way, because the world was backing me up. Teenage defiance became a revolution. I was the Robespierre, and call out posts were the guillotine.
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The stage of Tumblr discourse was where I acted out my most primal urges, purged my deepest insecurities. At least now it wasn't a toilet. I was invigorated. I had a purpose, an identity, a community, a goal. I had salvation. I had found. Fucking. Salvation.
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And so it went on for three years, until just weeks after my 18th birthday, I managed to get testosterone. "Hmmmm," I thought, "way easier and less gatekeep-y than I expected..." After 15 months, a changed body, a broken family, and a twisted mind, I detransitioned February 2018.
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And that is my experience with
#ROGD. How it happened and what I was thinking. Believe it or not, this is a simplified account. There is no shame in admitting this happened to you. It was both painful and invigorating. I still felt suicidal throughout most of it. It. Is. Real.Show this thread
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detrans gender apostate | there’s a 3% chance ill answer your question