I stopped identifying as transgender after initially coming out, but not for the expected reason.

The bathroom incident damaged my remaining self-esteem.

October 6th 2024.

I stopped identifying as transgender after initially coming out, but not for the expected reason.
The journey of coming out as transgender is often portrayed as a clear and straightforward path, but that couldn't be further from the truth. For me, it has been a winding and unpredictable journey, and this year in particular, I found myself taking a step back in order to move forward.

Detransitioning, a process where one reverts to their gender assigned at birth both socially and medically, has played a crucial role in my transgender journey. It has given me the space to do the emotional and mental work needed to live my life authentically, work that I didn't even know I needed until I came out for the first time.

There wasn't one specific moment that led to my decision to detransition. It was a combination of factors, both internal and external, that pushed me into a corner. Although I had been aware of my trans identity since I was a child, and eventually came out to myself at 18, it wasn't until I turned 31 last year that I fully came out to my friends, family, and coworkers. By then, I had already started my social transition, wearing women's clothing and growing out my hair for four years.

The days following my coming out were filled with joy and relief. My family, who I thought would reject me, embraced me with open arms and unconditional love. I had also joined a private healthcare provider and soon after, I started hormone replacement therapy (HRT).

For the first time in my life, I felt like I was truly myself. HRT had a profound effect on my mind, and I finally felt emotionally and mentally aligned. However, this high didn't last long before reality set in.

One incident in particular, last April, still haunts me. I was in the women's bathroom and a cis woman gave me a dirty look that made me feel completely exposed, like an intruder. It was clear that she didn't think I belonged there, and in that moment, I realized that I had also started to believe that about myself.

Each smirk, stare, and hurtful comment from strangers felt amplified in my mind, and I started to feel like a joke to others. I lacked the strength to overcome it, and these incidents slowly chipped away at my self-worth, leading me into a deeper state of depression.

Living in a remote area, I didn't have access to an offline trans community, aside from my partner. With my anxiety and internalized transphobia growing, I felt like I was just trying to survive and hold on to the hope that I could exist on my own terms. But in June, an unexpected disruption to my HRT forced me to medically detransition.

In that moment, I knew what I had to do. I started presenting as male again, trying to numb the pain and distance myself from my trans identity. I saw my decision as a silver lining, thinking that it would be years before I could come out as trans again, especially with the lack of access to HRT and rising transphobia in the UK.

But as time went on, I realized that I needed to confront and heal from my emotional struggles. I started keeping a diary, meditating, and actively working on my fear responses and internalized shame. And most importantly, I knew I needed to build a community. I threw myself into online groups and started attending meetups for local trans women. I even went to my first Pride event recently.

Now, I see myself as half in and half out of the closet. While I've asked my family to use my true name, I still go by my birth name in my professional life. But I no longer hide my trans identity. I'm trying to embrace it. I've started wearing women's clothing again, and although I still face insults and stares, I can feel my resilience and pride growing every day.

I've also been able to start HRT again, thanks to my local NHS GP unexpectedly agreeing to prescribe it to me. I cried tears of joy and couldn't stop smiling at this unexpected gift. Now, I can let my body re-emerge behind closed doors and let my mind find balance.

No one's journey is a straight line, especially when you're transgender. I was guilty of assuming that I had a clear path ahead, but I now know that detransitioning was a necessary part of my journey. I am trans, and I will always be trans. And when I'm ready, I will come back and live my best life, on my own terms.

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