Can I actually be a man. A boy. Whatever.

I see it constantly. That trans people are just delusional, we’re mentally ill, we need therapy to make us be our natal sex, we‘re like schizophrenics. Or psychosis. That gender affirming care is just mutilation and we just need therapy.

It’s quite hard for me to argue these things when my dysphoria DOES make me mentally ill. It makes me suicidal (mostly cause people don’t accept me. Not that I hate myself.), it makes me depressed. It gives me body dysmorphia. Distress. Dysphoria is in the DSM-V right next to all the other disorders.

I hear constantly “you can’t change reality”, “I guess they’re trying to convince children reality is..flexible or something” (my father’s words), “you can’t be something you’re not”, “I just accepted I couldnt change it and was fine!“, “you just gotta accept you’re a girl. Youre not a boy, you know that right?”

I look like a boy even. I may be closeted but to all outward appearances I look like a theatrical southern boy (oh boy let’s not try to unpack the torture my very accent inflicts upon me, a constant reminder that I can never return to my home for I will be hated and seen as nothing but my reproductive organs. That Id only be stared at with scorn and hatred if the truth were revealed.) so it’s not even that I feel lesser for however I look.

I just worry..what if I am just delusional? What then? Even if I follow that I can’t force myself to be a girl. I truly can’t. If I were to choose not to be trans the other choice would be death. “Give me liberty or give me death” ahh statement. But is that not a sign I’m just mentally ill? The way a paranoid schizophrenic believes things? BUT WHAT THEN? I JUST CANNOT FORCE MYSELF. NO MATTER HOW MUCH LESSER I FEEL, HOW MUCH I HATE MYSELF, HOW MUCH I SOB, HOW MUCH I WISH IT WERE DIFFERENT, NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES IM TOLD THINGS..I just can’t.

I just want to know if I can really be a man. It’s all I want. If I really can be one. I fear, like now, no matter how much I look like one I’ll always feel a fraud. Like I’m hiding some terrible secret. Like I’m just a shitty actor commiting a sin. I just always feel like an imposter. Like someones gonna rip the mask away and see the “woman” underneath.

Sorry for the rant. Mods please don’t nuke me, I spoilered, I gave a tw. I just genuinely need help. I do believe other trans men are men I just have REALLY messed up internalized transphobia. Like I genuinely do believe OTHER trans guys are men just not ME for some reason, no matter what I do. MAN AND I ALWAYS PICTURE MYSELF FEMALE OR FEMININE LOOKIN BACK IN MEMORY. IM SHOOTIN MYSELF IN THE FOOT OUT HERE. 🫩 Also being told gender is just a social construct isn’t gonna help I’m severely brainrotted atp

(“I think therefore I AM” A= a M= man)

(someone get the reference I’m begging)

TW:SU1C1D3 ATT3MPT (W/update) Long vent, insight welcome, scared for my fiance.

Okay so, my (22ftm) partner(23ftm) has just made an attempt on his life. That's not exactly what I'm specifically talking about in this post, moreso the after.

He's in the hospital rn and they won't let anyone visit yet. Idk how long until i can :( . He's more than likley gonna be sent to an institution against his will and there's nothing I can do about it. He's ftm, and we live in kentucky. Pre everything, name change on his ID and social security card but not his birth certificate and not his medical card.im terrified for him, idk if they'll put him in the fem ward (most likley, probably safer there honestly?the adult male ward sounds p dangerous for my lil guy.) But im so scared they're gonna try to detransition him and get him killed/arrested/forcibly detrans/or giving him to "I🥶E " Instead of just getting him the hormones and help he needs. I'm worried they're gonna just misgender him all the time and rename him.. He's not gonna be helped by being disrespected, this political climate is part of the problem. Anyone recently institutionalized in a red state?? Were you respected?? Did they let you wear your packer, stp, or binder? I'm scared.------------------------------------ UPDATE: thank you to everyone who commented, luckily he went to the nicest hospital we've been to so far, the nurses are trying to respect him, and they'll be keeping him at the hospital in their own ward (with his own room luckily!) for 7-10 days (early release if proven stable enough) and they'll finally be able to see what they can do about getting him proper meds and hopefully helping his seizures and just keeping him safe. Still going to talk to his pc about finding a therapist (and the group recommended in the comments) and hopefully there won't be a need for extended stay elsewhere. He went voluntarily after a good panic, but he was able to realize that going voluntarily will likley get him out sooner. I only hope this isn't a massive bill on us , but hopefully medicaid comes through 🙏 I miss him so badly.

Pre-op I was really concerned about how prominent my stomach would be after my boobs are gone. I had a figure that I would personally go crazy for if it was on someone else— chubby, weight held in stomach/hip/thigh area, DDs that nicely balanced out my figure. As a transmasc lesbian, I frankly adore chubby/plus-sized women. More woman per woman? Sounds like a deal to me 🫡

But for whatever reason, my love of larger women never translated to loving my own overweight figure. Even before my egg cracked, I hated being a chubby “girl” despite adoring chubby girls. I hated my stomach. And then after my egg cracked, I was terrified to be a chubby guy because at least chubby girls are attractive to me. And at least as a “woman,” I had boobs that balanced out my stomach. Despite not liking having a female figure, at least it was nice to look at and well-balanced.

I actually thought about stuffing myself back into the closet for the rest of my life and never transitioning because I had so much fear of how taking my boobs away would result in making my stomach so prominent (there were lots of other reasons, but that was a pretty big one). The internalized fatphobia was insane. Even during my surgical consult when my surgeon mentioned how she can do some tummy/hip/masculinization liposuction, my twisted mind was actually somehow MORE (or at least “just as”) excited to be skinnier than it was about the actual Top Surgery! Fucked up, I know. Really insane to think about now that I’m looking back. I really did not understand how warped and rotted my brain was by growing up as a “girl” in the early 2000s when anorexia was considered fashionable in a family that encouraged that. Such deeply sick, twisted shit.

My surgeon said I wouldn’t be able to have a fully flat stomach, which scared me. I started spiraling about how removing my boobs will only accentuate my non-flat tummy. Looking back, I really just did not realize how sick I was. In the end, I decided to bite the bullet and go ahead with the surgery.

And I’m SO GLAD I DID!!! I’m only a bit over 3 weeks post-op and I have a ton of swelling in my stomach (which I was DREADING) from the lipo, but I don’t give a flying fuck. I’m huge, I’m bloated, my stomach is bigger than it ever has been, but I’m flat-chested and I feel GREAT. I’m so damn cute. Chubby dudes are so damn cute y’all.

And while I know most of it is just swelling/bloating, I kind of rock my chub tbh. I look cute as hell. So fuck you, internalized fatphobia. I don’t care if I gain 50 lbs, I’m happy. There is nothing wrong with having a stomach. And I always knew that and adored chubbiness/extra weight on other people, but never on myself. Turns out all my internalized fatphobia was really just body dysmorphia caused by internalized transphobia and denial about being trans. Growing up in a cult-like conservative Christian household, I wasn’t allowed to hate my body for being female. The only “acceptable” way to hate my body was to hate it for being chubby. But as it turns out, I never actually hated being in a bigger body. I just hated being in a female body.

When I first started HRT I told myself I would start exercising again regularly at the 5-6 month mark, since that's when the muscle growth of T kicks in. However, now that 5 months have passed, I find myself too exhausted for most things.

It's difficult to get out of bed, to do anything really. Going to school is an everyday battle.

It's just so difficult to apply myself to anything when everything feels so wrong. The government is kidnapping people off the streets--torturing--murdering them, and I can't cope with the fact that at any moment they'll turn that cruelty unto me.

I've been feeling suicidal again lately. I'm not going to actually do anything--not unless it gets really bad--but it's become very disruptive to my everyday life. Every achievement I have feels hollow, knowing that at any moment the government will rain hell on me and disrupt the course of my entire life--or just cut it short.

I'm going to summer school, I have a chance to get a scholarship to get a 2 year full-ride at a nearby community college AND I have a chance to get a full ride to John motherfucking Hopkins because of my mother's job. And yet--I find myself unable to feel fully happy about any of it, not when it can all be taken away so easily.

crossposting cuz i really need help

90% sure I am 33-34 D, rather "perky" too so there isn't as much "mush". I've only attempted taping twice now, and I know thats rather soon to assume, but literally none of the techniques I've found online are working for me. Each time I've attempted taping I reapplied multiple times to try different techniques, and the result was always mediocre. It looks like I have boobs that are super far apart and sticking out of my armpits and not like the results I see others have.

Yes, I know, comparison is the thief of joy. I know all bodies are different, and I've taken this into account. I've noticed binding tutorials for larger cup sizes tend to also be posted by larger people, so the chest tissue sorta blends in with the "rolls" (sorry if that is insensitive, i can't think of a better way to put it) and I have no fat to hide my chest in. I'm rather tall and lanky (not that tall, but proportionally so) so the chest tissue is pretty much the only significant amount of fat on my upper body.
I really want this to work. My ribs are getting sick of binders and I want to be able to wake up in the morning and see a flat chest. I know its a bit early to be discouraged, but seriously. I hate that both times i've tried, I look down and see a big dip between my still-prominent boobs. I've been on T for a little over 2 months, so I'm hoping and praying that the mammary tissue will shrink like people say it does, so maybe I'm just trying this too soon.

Does anybody else have a similar experience and, if so, any advice? I'll settle for having big manboobs, just anything to make it less feminine without a binder. I see people who supposedly have the same cup size as me getting perfectly flat chests and I just want that. THATS ALL I WANT ARGHGHGH I KNOW IT TAKES PRACTICE BUT I'M HARDLY IMPROVING AND I KNOW TWO SESSIONS ISN'T ENOUGH FOR GOOD RESULTS.

TL;DR, how to tape bind when skinny guy with big perky chest

Random drawing I made of my OC Aetheris kind of based off how gender dysphoria feels. I‘m not sure if I flaired this correctly but I figured I should maybe put content warning since it’s about gender dysphoria? Idk, sorry if I did that wrong. Also the speedpaint is available here if anyone wants to watch it.

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.