A Story of Detransition and the Journey That Followed
Self-medicated hormones at 19, chasing belonging. Five years later I’m detransitioned, cancelled, and still undoing the damage. No one warns you the ‘community’ vanishes when the fantasy ends.
Overview
Calvin Lunt shares his experience of living as a trans woman for three and a half years, including nine months of self-medicating hormones after enduring a long wait at a clinic. He reflects on how drag and seeking validation online evolved into a desire to "blend in," the emotional moment of coming out to his mother on camera, and the fallout when detransitioning led to rejection by the same community that once embraced him. Now five years free from hormone use, he has found self-acceptance by focusing inward rather than altering his body.
Full Video Summary
Calvin Lunt begins the video visibly overwhelmed—breathless, shaking, legs raised to the camera—before composing himself to recount the three-and-a-half-year period he lived as a trans woman. Nine of those months were spent self-medicating with hormones after facing a “long, long waiting list” for a gender-identity clinic; he researched dosages, consulted his GP, and documented every step on social media. Calvin explains that his earliest sense of “difference” stemmed from being a mixed-race, notably feminine boy in a predominantly white community. Drag became his first refuge: “the biggest mask ever,” a space where he could be “as gay as possible, as loud as possible” while still hiding. The thrill of performance evolved into questioning his gender; the wigs, corsets, and exaggerated femininity he wore on stage gradually softened into an everyday goal of “blending into society” as a woman. The public announcement to his mother—filmed without her knowledge—captures the confusion Calvin now finds painful to revisit. In the clip, he tells her, “I just want boobs,” and admits, “I haven’t got a clue what I’m saying.” He recalls being praised online for his openness while privately feeling like “a confused kid … putting myself out there to the world … for not having a clue.” The validation felt intoxicating: strangers praised him, men found him attractive, and for the first time, he “belonged.” Yet the euphoria proved fleeting; the expectations he had of womanhood “didn’t fulfill in those ways.” Five years ago, he quietly stopped hormones, erased much of his digital footprint, and “went public” with detransition. The same community that once celebrated him, he says, “cancelled” him: venues closed their doors, trans friends disappeared, and he found himself exiled from the identity that had promised a fresh start. Since then, Calvin’s focus has turned inward. Standing at his mirror now, he can “see the beauty of myself” without wigs or filters. Therapy, reading, and solitary reflection have helped him separate childhood wounds—racism, gay-shame, family dynamics—from the belief that he was literally female. He no longer interprets every non-conforming trait as proof of an inner woman or man; instead, he frames them as “conditions put on me as a child.” The healing journey is ongoing—“it’s always about going within”—but the urgency to reinvent himself has been replaced by a steadier desire simply to understand and accept Calvin.