PART 2: Why I DEtransitioned - Health Issues
Testosterone gave me gallstones, bursting ovarian cysts and the fear I’ll never conceive—doctors called it ‘rapid hormonal fluctuation’. At 20 I’m scarred, bald and grieving the babies I may never hold. This isn’t ‘healthcare’, it’s irreversible harm sold as freedom.
Genel Bakış
Atreuz recounts how detransitioning began with a vivid vision of herself in a wedding dress, not a tux, and the chance to try for a baby with a new partner. Halting testosterone launched a cascade of medical crises: agonising, ovary-twisting cysts every cycle, emergency gallbladder removal after stones the surgeon blamed on rapid hormonal swings, and months of failed conception attempts that left her bald, scarred and terrified she had destroyed her fertility. Watching a cousin give birth in the same hospital while she lay post-op crystallised the regret: “Why is their body working but mine isn’t?”
Tam Video Özeti
In Part 2 of her series, Atreuz explains that detransitioning began with a single, cinematic moment of clarity. While on the phone with an ex-boyfriend who had cheated yet still wanted to marry her, she suddenly pictured herself accepting a beach proposal while wearing a tux, still deep in transition—then contrasted it with the childhood vision of being a bride in a gown, “like Cinderella.” That split-second juxtaposition convinced her that “Jaden” was an act she needed to drop. Shortly afterward she met another man who made her feel “feminine and bubbly,” and when he expressed a desire to have children, she saw an opportunity: she halted testosterone in order to try to conceive, viewing it as the escape hatch that would let her reclaim the life she had always imagined. The excitement of detransitioning was quickly overshadowed by cascading health problems. Atreuz meticulously tracked ovulation with LH strips and temperature charting, yet every negative pregnancy test triggered “crying fits, bawling,” and terror that testosterone had permanently damaged her fertility. Month after month she developed ovarian cysts that burst on or near ovulation day, causing pain so severe it radiated down her leg and sometimes left her unable to walk or sleep. One night she woke screaming, convinced she was dying; an ER visit revealed gallstones so extensive that emergency surgery was required to remove her gallbladder entirely. The surgeon told her point-blank that rapid hormonal fluctuation from testosterone was the likely culprit, a verdict her family accepted without hesitation. Atreuz lingers on the emotional toll of these complications. Lying in a hospital bed while a cousin gave birth two floors above, she asked, “Why is their body working but mine isn’t?” She describes feeling fraudulent among her female cousins, as though she had forfeited the right to womanhood by transitioning, yet simultaneously grieving the rites of passage—prom, long hair, makeup—she missed. The physical scars from two surgeries join the psychological ones: hair that remains thin despite extensions, lingering soreness near her ovaries, and the lingering fear that her dream of motherhood may be out of reach. She ends by acknowledging that while she still hopes to have the family she once envisioned, she carries the weight of regret every time she sees healthy women her age who “just lived their lives normally.”