Venus Rising with Mary: My Detransition Story
I lost my breasts, my health, and my friends after a 15-minute conversation led me to testosterone. No questions asked, no way back. This isn’t care—it’s harm.
Overview
Mary, a lesbian who experienced no childhood dysphoria, was influenced by social media to believe that identifying as "non-binary" aligned with her aversion to makeup. A gender therapist quickly affirmed her identity; within a year of taking testosterone—solely to qualify for an insurance-covered mastectomy—she underwent irreversible surgery. She now lives with chronic pain, permanent hair loss, a deeper voice, and requires lifelong heart medication, cautioning others that transitioning was "the worst mistake of my life."
Full Video Summary
Mary, a lesbian who had never experienced childhood gender dysphoria, traces her path into medical transition to the moment Facebook rolled out 144 gender options. Curious, she looked up “non-binary,” decided the label fit because she disliked makeup and girly clothes, and found a gender therapist. After socially transitioning for two years and dressing as a man for one—an idea she says she got from a TV show—she entered the clinic and, in a first appointment that lasted minutes, was told “yes, you’re trans,” asked for pronouns and a new name, and left with the male-leaning alias “Mare.” Although she initially vowed never to take testosterone, Mary learned her insurance required a year on the drug before it would approve a double mastectomy. Suicidal and desperate for top surgery, she went to an informed-consent clinic, reported her suicidal thoughts, and still left the same day with a testosterone prescription. Within a year and two months she had the mastectomy; the surgeon warned her nipples would lose all sensation, but she proceeded. Mary describes testosterone as “gross”: constant sweating, body pain from fat redistribution, emotional flat-lining, hair loss, and ultimately high blood pressure and cholesterol that left her on lifelong medication. She also developed urinary problems and says her voice is permanently lower. Mary’s regret surfaced almost immediately after surgery. While the dysphoria and suicidal thoughts did vanish, she now believes they were never properly explored in therapy; the relief felt “like a poof” and was quickly replaced by the realization that “there was no going back.” She wanted to stop testosterone two years earlier, but her gender therapist discouraged her, insisting it “calms you down.” Only after cutting ties with that therapist, reading detransition accounts on Reddit and Twitter, and reflecting during COVID lockdowns did she taper off testosterone; she has now been hormone-free for about a year. Detransitioning cost Mary her trans-identified friends—most called her a transphobe and disappeared—and she now faces online accusations of being a “plant” or a man. Yet she finds broad support among detransitioners and uses her Twitter handle @FANDAFLAMES to warn others, especially young women, not to “become victims of the trans cult.” She urges anyone questioning transition to stay off social media, seek therapists who will push back rather than affirm, and research puberty blockers, which she calls irreversible and harmful. Her greatest hope is that sharing the physical and emotional price she paid will stop at least one person from starting testosterone or pursuing surgery.