FTM Detransition꞉ How I Confused Tomboy With Transgender 🤷🏼♀️
Tomboys aren’t broken. Ten years of testosterone erased the cowgirl in me—proof that medical transition can destroy the very identity it claims to save.
Επισκόπηση
After ten years on testosterone, Chance detransitioned and now unpacks how childhood tomboy traits—baseball with boys, toy guns, declaring “I’m a cowboy”—were mislabeled as proof she was trans. She shows old photos and writings, explains how transition erased the very identity that made her feel special, and argues clinicians rushed her onto hormones without exploring other causes.
Πλήρης Περίληψη Βίντεο
Chance, the host of the YouTube channel “Detransioi,” opens the video by introducing herself as a detransitioned woman who spent ten years on hormone-replacement therapy (HRT). Framing the episode as part of “bringing the joy back to detransists,” she explains that she will revisit her childhood as a tomboy, show artifacts that once seemed like “proof” she was transgender, and then describe how she untangled that interpretation. She promises to close with brief remarks on the concept of gender dysphoria. To illustrate how easily tomboyish behavior can be misread, Chance displays three items. First, a snapshot of her at about seven standing with an all-boys baseball team labeled “Boys Club,” chosen not out of pity, she insists, but because “I have an awesome arm.” Second, a photo of six-year-old Chance gripping a toy gun while her best friend stands nearby. Third, an excerpt from a sixth-grade autobiography in which she wrote, “When I was three … I decided I had to be a boy and a cowboy,” recounting how she told her mother she refused to be a girl. She pauses after each artifact to ask rhetorically, “Is this proof I’m trans?”—clearly signaling that she now answers no. Chance then narrates the arc from tomboy to transition and back. She recalls refusing girls’ clothes, running shirtless through the neighborhood until age eight, and being constantly misgendered. Puberty felt alienating, but meeting lesbians in college allowed her to “be myself” for a while. Nevertheless, she later transitioned, an experience she now describes as erasing the “most important part of me”—the cowboy identity that had made her feel special. She says the attempt to live as a man “just fucked me up,” and while recovery took work, she now asserts that “tomboy is not eco-transgender at all.” Identifying again as a lesbian, she reports feeling comfortable in her female body despite ordinary insecurities about weight and breast size, and she denies ever having had gender dysphoria as clinicians define it. In closing, Chance argues that true gender dysphoria is a lifelong, persistent condition that should be diagnosed only after every other avenue has been explored. She criticizes the “gender dysphoria therapist who didn’t ask me the right questions” and laments how easily people are “put on the transgender train.” Her takeaway message is that being a cowboy—or any unique childhood persona—is what makes a person special, not evidence of being born in the wrong body.