"I'm Trans, But Regret My Penis Inversion Surgery" : Male To Female Detrans Speaks Out

Penile-inversion vaginoplasty left me numb, in pain and catheterised for life. The ‘highway with no rules’ sold me irreversible harm while ignoring my OCD. Teens deserve warnings, not cheerleaders.

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Ritchie, 26, began transition in 2014 and underwent penile-inversion vaginoplasty in 2018. He now lives with numbness, hypersensitivity, urinary strictures requiring repeated dilations every 3–4 years, and no libido. He says clinicians dismissed his OCD, pushed him toward surgery, and warns that complications like necrosis, prolapse and total loss of sensation are common yet hidden.

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Ritchie, a 26-year-old who began medical transition in 2014 and underwent penile-inversion vaginoplasty in 2018, describes to Arielle Scarcella the severe, lasting physical complications that followed his bottom surgery. He now experiences alternating patches of total numbness and excruciating hypersensitivity in the neovaginal area, making any kind of sex “very difficult.” Urinary problems have been even more disabling: after catheter removal he discovered his urethra had become severely constricted, producing months of agony and the need for repeated follow-up surgeries. Every three-to-four years he must undergo another urethral dilation, and he still lacks libido. Ritchie emphasizes that these outcomes are not rare; he knows many trans women who have “zero sensation down there” and believes the community downplays the risks. Ritchie says he began speaking out because he saw virtually no male detransitioners willing to go public. He felt insulated from online harassment and therefore obligated to warn others, especially since mainstream narratives “prop up trans women” while ignoring detrans men. He recounts how, even while in therapy, clinicians framed surgery as the logical next step and threatened to discharge him when he expressed reluctance. After the operation went badly, he realized that physical transition—particularly surgery—was “fucking stupid” and “definitely not” the right path for him. He now believes short-term social transition may have helped, but long-term medical interventions did not. To illustrate how little prospective patients are told, Ritchie lists complications rarely discussed publicly: routine post-surgical infections, necrosis (tissue death), vaginal prolapse (“about one in 50”), and the extremely common loss of erotic sensation. He also notes that he entered the gender clinic with an OCD diagnosis, begged for help with it, yet was fast-tracked to surgery while OCD treatment was deferred. Ritchie urges anyone considering transition to dissect their dysphoria into smaller pieces—asking whether distress might instead stem from OCD, depression, neurodivergence, attachment issues, bullying, or same-sex attraction—rather than accepting a single “gender dysphoria” label. He likens the current system to “a highway with no rules” and advocates guardrails, clearer warnings, and professionals who will help people “break down” their symptoms before irreversible medical steps are taken.