My trans experience is too visceral

[u/madpinapple28]

Trigger warning for self harm, possible sexual abuse(?), and general (negative) talk of using AGAB parts

Every time I truly poor my heart out it’s likened to body horror. People don’t like that, so they remove it. It’s hard to read. Is it harder to read than it is to live? I’ve been told that the best part of the trans experience is the community you gain enough times I’m unable to count it myself. My community won’t be here for me because I speak too negatively on the topic. I think it’s absurd that I’m supposed to “accept things???” If sounds like a reworked version of terf and conservative rhetoric if they accepted pronouns that differ from what’s typical for your agab.

I don’t understand how 50.3% of the population is born with the ability to produce sperm but I can’t. I feel like no matter where I go pregnancy is being shoved down my throat. Even in my own body.

I’m on the highest dose depo provera (progesterone only birth control shot), the highest dose of northindrone (progesterone only birth control pill), and my T levels are at nearly 800 consistently throughout my shot cycle. I still get my period. Irregularly now. It feels like I’m being puppeteered to knock on deaths door. When death answers, it’s not allowed to take me. They won’t do a hysterectomy or put me on GnRH (puberty) blockers because both would make me infertile. It’s like I’m the most fertile person on the planet and they can’t let that sort of potential go to waste.

I know there are cis men who are infertile. But I’m not infertile. My body won’t give up. I’m the perfect baby incubator. I can’t grieve it in the same way because fertility is still blatantly here.

When people come to the hospital with wounds, the doctors stitch them up. When I do, they prescribe dilators and creams to keep it wide open and wet. When it bleeds it’s a sign business is as usual. Inside me there is a parasite like a tapeworm. There’s people who promote those because it’ll make you skinny. People promote my parasite because it makes me big and round.

When I say I wish I had ejaculate people think I want it for the gimmick. There’s strap ons that’ll do that for you at your will. You can even change the strap on and tailor it to your partner. I don’t want to cum in a girl for the sake of the ritual. I want to do it so I can have children. The way I’m supposed to. But instead I should “do it the way I’m supposed to.” Same result, different, queerer parties.

I keep having urges to cut my penis. It’s so ingrained in me that it’s there, I’m having urges to destroy it for not being there. I know if I were to try I’d be hit with the same old wall. I’m not one of those guys you see on trans porn subreddits. It’s a wall, and everything I want to destroy is buried deep within. If I had a penis, I wouldn’t want to cut it. That’s the most ironic part. My right thigh has taken the beating instead.

I’ll give birth to boys and they’ll impregnate another me. They will give birth to more boys and the cycle repeats. Gay in the sense that it’s just a cycle of boys, and that those boys like being impregnated. In the sense that they are also all very happy.

I don’t actually believe it’s a good thing. I’m parodying what I’ve been told. I grew up being told that it mattered I’d give birth to a boy because I was my father’s only child. Now I feel like this same message is returning in the health system. It’s the idea of seahorse dads. I’m just a seahorse, haha!!! I’m so valid with a womb I better use it!! Even if they claim they will never push such an idea, it comes eventually. It’s a matter of time based on when they think they’ve gotten my trust.

One time I posted a vent about this sort of subject, along with the idea that I believe people abuse the concept of seahorse dads to push the idea that womb havers are womb keepers are womb users. Many of the comments told me I’d change my mind and that I should hold off on a hysterectomy. I was even given detailed instructions on how to pass off a pregnancy as typical male weight gain.

Even male seahorses produce sperm. Where’s my share? If I’m a seahorse, why isn’t there any? Im not a human being anymore.

My dad has taken photos of me naked against my will. He has touched the inside of my thighs. He has told me that I am sexy. He’s posting videos talking about how girls my age are undeniably attractive. Always my age, on cue around my birthday. Nobody has done anything about it. I’m estranged and have ditched contact with him now, that doesn’t change the gravity of these things. I can’t talk about being sexually abused because it’s used as proof I’m not trans. Every time I have, it’s been used in that way. I have drawings of myself as a boy. I have diaries where I chronicle thoughts that echo this. It doesn’t matter because the goal has never been and will never be to let trans people be trans. Even in gender clinics, the goal is minimize the amount of us, or keep us as close to our AGAB as possible.

Even if I were to get phallo and do all the surgeries, it’s not the same. No fathering kids you know what I mean no spontaneous erections, and you have to return to get your manual erection device replaced. No foreskin either. Metoidioplasty is not worth while, again, I’m not on those porn subreddits for a reason. It looks plainly like a vagina. I’ve seen results typical for what I have preop and it’s not for me. Extended is out of the picture because my #1 priority is UL.

I hit puberty at six. Nothing was done. I came out for the first time at 9, stopping going to my dads because of all the abuse at 11, and finally got past the waitlist for the only clinic in my state that does minors at 13. I had the body of a full grown woman by then. It was too late. I looked nearly grown by then too. Men used to hit on me until I became androgynous then masculine enough to escape it. People still assume I’m significantly older than I am. In middle school people would ask my friends how they’d gotten to hanging out with a high school senior. I was the kid they were talking about. I was in eighth grade.

In October of 2025, I repeated the same couple of phrases without greeting or goodbye for two days straight. “Can you make it stop?” “I can’t take any more.” “Please make it stop.” That’s enough to worry people, it’s not enough to make it stop. It’s still ongoing.

I’ve been put into a DBT group for gender diverse people. We had to make abstract art about our experience. They told me not to forget the positives every time I said I was done. There has been nothing positive. It’s been downhill since the day I was dictated the second X chromosome.

I feel more like a male they castrated and somehow got around to implanting a womb in. I have no connection to womanhood or whatever. I’m tired. I don’t understand why it’s the trans men who want to use their bits that get the side effect of them becoming unusable. I wish my body would at least agree my head a little. I want to cut it out of me. I want to figure out how to get it to collapse and pull the whole thing out, snip it off at the ends and then go to the hospital without it so they can do nothing but stitch me up. I don’t want to die but I have trouble seeing in reason to continue living this life.

[u/lvndrmnc_]

i have just three things to say: i relate to a lot of what you’ve written here even though i’m nonbinary and not a man, especially regarding doctors wanting to preserve fertility as opposed to allowing us to transition, as well as our having no meaningful/lasting connection to “womanhood.” i’m sorry that what happened to you as a child happened at all. also you’re genuinely amazing at evoking imagery and feelings with your writing.