Here is the complete, if condensed, history of my #detransition - grab a cup of tea and sit somewhere comfy, my intent is to entertain and enlighten as I regale you with the follies and wisdoms of my youth. 1/25

The seeds of my transition began in the murky depths of my childhood. By 14/15 I *knew*. At 17 my Mum left Dad to be a lesbian - cue Lorelei the homophobe. Then my bro came out gay. By 21-ish I was certain. At 23 my transition began in earnest following my divorce... 2/25

I continued to have doubts. Part of this was knowing, deep down, transition for me would likely mean vaginoplasty but it was WAY beyond my means at the time. When I went on to HRT, I "sensibly" decided to give it 2 years and thoroughly review the situation 3/25

After 1 year, while studying physiology/pathology and learning exactly how Spiro worked, I got spooked - my Aunt died of nephritis/botched kidney transplant, and my Dad had also had a brief nephritis when I was kid. No kidney stuff for me. Cypro was also out, so went E alone 4/25

E alone did not work well. My T levels steadily rose. My original endo got cancer and I moved to a new clinic. That GP took leave. As the year closed a replacement GP, looking at my results, asked me if maybe my body didn't *want* to transition 5/25

It was a poignant question at a time when ideas of "sacred body" were hitting hard. It was right on 2 years. Coincidentally, hormones also vanished from local chemists for a few weeks. I got really spooked. I did my 2 year review, I was less than 100%, so I stopped HRT 6/25

In that year, as my T rose, my body became less feminine. Semen came back in vast quantities. My breasts were paused at a meagre almost-A cup Tanner 3-ish. When I stopped E, it took about 2-4 weeks for almost all my femininity to vanish. I had a tiny menopause. 7/25

Although I stopped HRT I didn't detrans. I continued to live as a woman for another 3 years until my masculinity made it too wearisome and awkward. I kept female pronouns around friends but got a new driver's license. It was also around this time my Beloved fell pregnant 8/25

It was a planned pregnancy. My beloved had relatively severe endometriosis. With my history of HRT and her endo we figured fertility was a LONG shot.

As it turned out, it took one time. ONE TIME. Potential parents be warned... 9/25

With the arrival of my daughter I became conflicted. I was growing a beard. My voice was lowering. I took the title "Mema" because I wanted to be at least gender-neutral as a parent. I still used female pronouns among friends but my role as a "father" was wearing me down 10/25

We moved to Melbourne to be with Beloved's family. I left my family and friends behind. I had a few people here but they were across the city and I had little time or money to galavant. I grew quite lonely but dove into various home projects, like building a chicken coop 11/25

As Daughter Prime approached pre-school age I declared I would now be "Dad". I didn't want to constantly explain my titles and gender history to parents and teachers. I didn't want my daughter to be "that kid". Beloved fell pregnant again (it took 2 goes this time) 12/25

My desires and my reality were swiftly parting ways. I was starting to get angsty. I had 2 friends transition and, while I was publicly supportive, inside I was bitter. "You'll regret this one day" I would say to myself. "You'll wish you were happy like I learned to be." 13/25

Somewhere here I went Gender Critical - or close to it. I didn't join the "movement" but I had seen enough of the edges to adopt it a little. Maybe I was a product of abuse? Maybe I was delusional? My desire to transition was depressing me so it must be an unhealthy desire 14/25

I would sit up at night writing long essays that contradicted themselves, all about how enlightened I was and glad to have "beaten transness", how trans people would come to regret it, while also explaining how much I yearned to point of physical nausea to be back on HRT 15/25

Daughter 2 came. We moved house. We began planning marriage and I was planning my dress. My desire to transition grew. I started randomly lopping at my long hair and beard. At the time I was "sick of being scruffy" but I later learned it was a sign of deepening depression 16/25

We got married & I was not in a dress. I was miserable. We had a "reception" at a folk festival amongst fellow Morris Dancing friends which was great. My Hair was the shortest it had been in over a decade.

I became withdrawn. I started looking up stuff like "trans married" 17/25

I came across an article by @MavenOfMayhem and, seeing the photos of their vowel renewal, something in me broke. I wondered, what if Transition was at least "on the table" again, just an option to ponder. I snapped. I felt like someone flicked a huge rubber band in my brain 18/25

The change in my character was so swift and so complete I genuinely thought I had gone insane. The level of joy was staggering. Somewhere in years of depression I had forgotten what happiness felt like. Even having it as an "option" brought me a new emotional kaleidoscope 19/25

That was June 2019. It would be another 6 months of internal struggle and "I'm too ugly now" "it'll never work" "what about the kids" and seeing a counsellor who I wanted to talk me out of it before I finally said "yes, I need this to happen". By Jan 2020 I was back on HRT 20/25

My memories of 2017-2019 are actually quite fuzzy. I don't recall a lot of detail. I think maybe I was dissociating pretty hard?

At some point, "no HRT" became "no female identity". The conflict left me vulnerable to some of the GC nonsense I had seen. 21/25

Beloved was so relieved when I took up transition again. She'd been waiting for me for years but I think she knew deep down I couldn't be pushed. I had to find my way out of the darkness alone. Luckily I did.

Beloved and many old friends welcomed me back 22/25

While I lament the lost years, I also relish that I went "male" in a way I never had before. Long beard. Assertive in sex. Deep booming voice. Being "Dad". It wasn't *me*, though sometimes it was genuinely fulfilling, yet it burned up all my doubts about who I really was 23/25

Now I'm back in full force. My body is feeling "right" again. My social life is improving. My general happiness is up and up and up. Gender is a weird, crooked thing. Some of us need to take the long way. Some also need to dabble in transition to learn it is not their thing 24/25

I don't think I have a moral to this tale. It's just my story so far - take or leave what you will. But #detrans is a hot GC selling point and not always hugely understood- so I am always willing to talk openly about my "8 years" and the things I learned.

Love to all xxx

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