Back in January, a TiF named
earthso complained about how her vaginal canal was becoming dryer than the kind of ancient cave you'd spot Indiana Jones adventuring into. Well, she's back after enduring regular cramping every time she climaxed (
and sometimes when she abstained from any kind of orgasmic activity at all), and now she's gotten herself a course of estrogen suppositories to try and combat the issue in the hopes that everything would be easily resolved. But vulvas are a fickle organ as whenever she tries to take less estrogen, she's viciously reminded by her vagina that she's making a terrible mistake by transitioning. "I hate my life now ... Am I going to have to take these pills daily forever?" She writes nervously, apparently clueless to the fact that she's willfully chosen to become a pharmaceutical pay pig for a long, long time. F in the chat, lads.
Last Post (Story Five)
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I was prescribed topical E pills because after a year on T I started getting post-coital severe cramping that progressed to general excruciating pain that would happen randomly. I was first prescribed for 2 weeks of daily pills then to taper off, but the pain continued to be intense until I took pills for another 2 weeks daily.
After 4 weeks I finally was pain free pretty much, so I thought I could begin to taper off. My original prescription said daily for 2 weeks, then reduce to twice weekly.
I tried to reduce to simply every other day, but immediately the pain has begun to return. Am I going to have to take these pills daily forever? That’s so incredibly depressing. Does anyone else have experience with this?
An autistic man so deep in the closet he's auditioning to be Mr. Tumnus longs to be one of the girls but is always painfully reminded of his biology every time he tries to voice an opinion on fashion. Unbeknownst to them, each casual remark in which they brush off his input is another brutal dagger through his tender heart, which leads to his moods swinging like a pendulum between bitter longing and a nagging feeling that their rejection is justified towards a "predator" like him. I like that a commenter said OP had "
a bad case of the girl brains" because judging by how OP writes I would actually diagnose him with a bad case of "no brains." Here's hoping he also gets diagnosed with a case of "no balls" before any of these girls find themselves alone in a locked room with him, a knife and a Party City wig affixed lopsidedly to his fontanelle.
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TW for dysphoria....maybe? Just to be safe.
I know its not malicious, and i dont genuinely loathe them, but there are SO many situations with women where they will tell me about some new makeup/dress/hairstyle they are considering, and if my opinion isnt up to mark, theyll scoff and say " Ugh, of course youd say that, youre a guy"
JUST KILL ME. JUST FUCKING SHOOT ME IN THE HEAD.
I dont even know if im trans or just feeling insecure about being a man, so im not rlly sure if i should post here, BUT IT HURTS SO FUCKING BAD when you get your opinion dismissed as "ugh, basic male opinion".
I know its not personal, BUT
GOD I WOULD RATHER IT BE PERSONAL. I WOULD RATHER THAT YOU JUST PERSONALLY DONT VALUE MY OPINION.
Also uk that thing, where if youre kinda close with some women, they start referring to you as "girl/girlie/sis".
FUCKIN HELL IT SHOULDNT FEEL THIS GOOD. IT RLLY SHOULDNT FEEL THIS AMAZING. WHY CANT YOU JUST STICK TO THAT. DONT REMIND ME THAT IM A MAN.
I cant even say i deserve to rant abt this, cuz
i dont ever try to learn about women's culture or experience past the bare minimum. IDK why, but
whenever i do try to explore that always gives me feelings of extreme happiness followed by hate...especially when it comes time for the inevitable "men are exhausting" part of those spaces...and FUCK..
.thats what i am....lurking like some fucking predator...fuck me...ill never be one of them.
Ok, phew, rant over, thanks for enduring.
EDIT:
In all fairness i have only come out to one...who is uh...iffy about it HAHAHAHAHA...
just finish me off
and i live in a pretty conservative place...needless to say im gonna die a man R.I.P.
While enjoying a rare instance of fresh air and natural daylight - typically kryptonic in its potency against mutant-to-"females" - a troon is left tongue-tied when two teenagers trek by and talk terribly about trannies. What kind of megafaunic gigahon do you think we're working with here that even when spotted at a distance and obscured by a porch screen that not only can these kids identify him as a man, but specifically an insane, crossdressing man?
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literally sitting on my own front porch and two high school boys walk by on their way home and start spewing tons of trans hate. meanwhile
i’m just speechless on how they could even tell through my porch screen and my hoodie. not the best feeling and i’m sure there’s more to come but yeah i just wanted to vent about it honestly.
A pooner shares some borderline toxic levels of copium when she tries to reframe all of the flaws found in your average phalloplasty as a good thing. I understand that to every cloud, there's a silver lining, but when writing statements such as "sex isn't simply "dick feel good = orgasm"," it really paints the image that OP wrote this through gritted teeth, tear-stained cheeks and a cold, limp rotdog on her lap that has long since passed over the Rainbow Bridge - which is fitting when you think of the pride flag.
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When I was first beginning phalloplasty, I had a lot of feelings surrounding perceived inadequacies related to phalloplasty outcomes that, the longer I've had time to sit with them, I've developed different perspectives on.
- "I want to have a 'natural' erection"
I think if you asked any cis man "Do you want to have 100% on-demand boners for as long as you're alive?" they'd give an enthusiastic yes.
Many cis men's worst sexual experiences are related to embarrassment due to erectile dysfunction. In my experience,
women do not care how I get my boners, either, and they would also prefer that I can stay hard for as long as I want (and have multiple orgasms without needing to reset for 25 minutes post-orgasm). Also,
so much of sex is related to catering to the boner, making sure it stays hard, being focused on the man's pleasure, etc., that I think it's probably refreshing for sex partners to have sex with a man who doesn't have that expectation or requirement.
- "I want to be able to ejaculate"
I personally am very happy with the fact that I don't have to deal with cum. One of my long-time friends said that any time she's been having sex with somebody, and they ask "where do you want it?" she just says "I don't want it" lmao.
I am glad I never have to have a cum stain on my sheets, or a cum sock, or a trash can filled with cum-soaked tissues. Gross.
Also, no pregnancy scares, ever.
- "I'm worried about loss of sensation"
I don't want to minimize this concern, because obviously it's a real risk of this surgery that you should be prepared for going into it.
However, as somebody who has very little sensation, this has not been a big drawback in terms of sexual satisfaction. I can still orgasm, no problem, despite the fact that my sensation is reduced. Your mind CAN adjust. And sex isn't simply "dick feel good = orgasm", it's the mind-body connection, the thrill of being with a partner, giving somebody else that pleasure. Would I prefer that I have more sensation? Of course, but
I'd also prefer having phalloplasty with minimal sensation over my original plumbing with excellent sensation, 100% of the time.
TL;DR: "different" does not equal "worse", and changing your perspective may help you work through your inadequacies about phalloplasty.
Own Worst Enemy: a schizotroon can't stop jamming sticks in the spokes of his own bike wheels in pursuit of getting his dickchop, which has now finally ended in him having to cancel his surgery completely. What were the kinds of things he did to get in his own way, you may ask? Nothing too impressive - just botched electrolysis that destroyed the elasticity of his scrotal skin, overdosing on
glucocorticoids as a method of hair loss treatment and
multiple suicide attempts resulting in permanent cognitive impairment that has left him unable to speak clearly and coherently. Left bereft but still bedicked, OP laments that suicide programs like MAiD are not available in the UK and that he instead has to forge ahead in life until the light of his candle is blown out by his final breath. Imagine being one of the few trannies that's actually
bad at suicide! Now
that's an L for the ages.
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As of writing this I will likely have to cancel my surgery in May with the Suporn clinic. I want this post to kind of be a reflection on what has happened. The reasons for this are many.
1)Tissue:
I was ill advised on getting electrolysis all over my scrotum before surgery. Or at least it was not carried out in a suitable way. The skin was held far too tight for far too long during the sessions and it has been permanently stretched with no elasticity. It looks like an old mans scrotum even after a year of healing and cologne supplements.
2) My mental health:
Due to unfixable hair loss my mental state for the past two years has collapsed. In February 2025 I attempted suicide and was left slurring my speech. I have never really recovered from that incident and the relentless head bashing I have done since. I am cognitively impaired.
3) Drugs:
In my despair to try to stop my hair loss I started taking some very stupid and dangerous drugs. I started taking Glucocorticoids to try to suppress my adrenal androgen's hoping that this would help.....It did not. Now even after stopping them I still have symptoms of adrenal insufficiency. (Nausia, vomiting, diahrea etc).
This issue has been compounded by the trauma and damage cause by my multiple attempts at suicide over the last year. (Nearly a dozen attempts.). I get sick so easily now.
4) Schizophrenia and ability:
My father was schizophrenic and although I have never been diagnosed I likely have the same problems as he did. The last year has taken my mind from me. I am no longer the confident woman I once was. I have detransitioned and collapsed into delusions and chaos. I struggle even with basic self care like brushing my teeth and taking my meds regularly.
5) Living arrangements:
I got evicted from my last house due to my erratic behaviour and constant screaming. I now share a house with two other guy that smoke constantly. The place is disgusting and I just can't keep up with cleaning. One of them is constantly vomiting into the toilet (like every night, he never tells me why. Something to do with his meds probably) and shaving in the bath. I have to bleach out the shower everytime I want to wash since it's disgusting and the shower drain is faulty. I can stay with family but those arrangements are not much better since there is no proper bed I can sleep in.
I'm so sad that I'm going to be in pain now for the rest of my life like the other mental patients I live with. I'm so sad the UK doesn't have assisted dying at least that would be one small mercy. But I just couldn't stop failing at everything I did even suicide.
I think the best I can do now is pay for a private orchiectomy so that at least that pain can be taken away. I was taken off the NHS trans services because I was planning to go to Thailand.
All this humble HSTS (i.e., crossdressing homosexual) wants is the simple dream of a happily ever after, but it seems that such a fate isn't in the cards for him - at least until he has his privates pulverized and he can attempt to trick straight men into sticking their dicks into inverted, unnatural flesh. Yet despite his whining, OP surprisingly realizes that the long con won't con for long as trying to get his family to keep up the charade is "unreasonable" even to him, and thus, he weeps quietly into the good night at the notion that he may have to shack up with a dude who turns his stomach just so his bed won't be cold. I hope you all imagined a violin solo played by mice as you read this post, because I sure did.
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From all my experiences dating / chatting with men,
they will never love a trans person. Fuck them sure but never love. They’re interested in a long-term relationship until the moment I out myself.
I never get to meet their friends and family. They say they’re “confused” and “not emotionally ready” … whatever
I get it I suppose.
I’m barren. I can’t give them the family they want. They’d be ashamed for friends to know what I am. But I’m so lonely
I’m still waiting for SRS, my plan has always been to just not tell men that I’m trans ever but I haven’t really thought it through. I’m still close with my family who of course all know I’m trans. Like am I expecting them to all keep up this lie for me? That’s unreasonable
I could tell them a few months into the relationship or something but does that actually work? Feels like a massive risk that they would break up wasting my time or worse try to hurt me
I don’t know.
Maybe I just need to accept that I’ll never have a husband who I will be truly attracted to
Limb-ited: a FTM is so completely haunted by the phantom of a penis she never had that she can't imagine going through the rest of her life donglessly, depressed to the point of rotting from the inside out because she'll never have a twig and berries that were grown naturally from her own bush. I honestly find the constant focus on ejaculation to be both baffling and extremely porn-brained; the way you read troons 'n' poons write about sex, you'd be forgiven for assuming it must be like
getting slimed on Nickelodeon for hours on end, and if that's your first impression of sex then not only would identifying as asexual make sense, but it would also arguably be the only correct stance to take.
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(talking about male genitals/internal female reproductive organs and bottom dysphoria + this is kind of negative haha)
I can't handle it. It's not even dysphoria at this point,
it's full on grief that NEVER goes away. It jumps between all the stages except the last one.
I can't accept the fact I'll never get a real penis and testicles, I just CANT. I really need a way to get to the acceptance stage because it's impossible to deal with lately as my other parts of physical dysphoria slowly get alleviated and I think about this more.
I want to have the ability to ejaculate, have a normal penis, no extra holes, no weird parts, being able to have my own children without using ovaries that I get nauseous about just thinking of.
I need some help. I can't do this, it's weighing on me, even though I'm trying to let it go.
It genuinely feels like I lost something like a limb, but I never even had it. It's become really severe and barely manageable, even though I always had that.
Please help, I can't do anything and feel helpless and demotivated to just go through life.
Savage, vandalized: the graffiti of God's hand has marked this tranny forevermore, cursing him to hulk and hover over everyone around him even though buried beneath his bristly bosom lies the dainty soul of a girl who could swim in a teacup. Judging by how badly he wrote this, of all the cave bears to come out of this clan, he's definitely no
Vandal Savage - but hey, maybe we've accidentally stumbled upon a missing link!
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"I will make a person.
IT will be 6 feet tall despite her parents are small so she will tower people
IT will have broad shoulder so nobody will ignore her
IT will have huge calves who give her night cramp because they're strong
IT will have a big face so she could intimidate Her hair will be weird and untamed so she would look like a savage
IT will have huge feet so everybody would see her and be in awe.
Everything in ITS would be huge, nothing would be small because IT has to be seen"
God after seing all of that what contempt but one last things was missing and after a little time, he say
"IT will be a SHE"
And there be life
Hey god, it you exist...
Fuck you.
One of my favorite genres of Ls is when genderbread people realize that allies have become thin on the ground due to their downright odious reputation as political poison and, for some reason, never stop to blame themselves for being the least deserving of any kind of help for literal fucking years. This li'l dood is especially wounded by the abandoment of the fair-weather freedom fighters she thought she knew so well, putting her in a state of anxiety so great that she comments in passing that she hopes to die before the end of the decade. Such heartwrenching melodrama; you'd think we were fortifying all of our cereals with tranny bones or some shit with the way they all write about the merciless, draconic ruling of "No part of your identity should be forged or misrepresentative of who you are on official documentation."
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Somehow everyone was the most passionate ally when we weren't under constant legal attacks from every single direction, but once we are being completely excluded from public life, being tortured and experimented on in prison, having our licenses revoked, etc. Not a single cis person gives a fuck. I have only seen maybe three of them care enough to even repost a single thing about trans people and what's happening to us.
They truly do not care at all. We are disposable to them, they don't see us as fully human, even if they're your best friend, even if they're LGB themselves. We were just another talking point for them to use in politics.
I am so tired of the only people who can actually do something going completely silent right when we need them
. I wish I was hopeful and I could say that trans people can do it on our own, but we can't. The government is all cis people, society is all cis people, we have to bend over backwards for them all while working 3x harder on everything in life just to exist. And they still don't fucking care that their richer counterparts are trying to kill us.
Even other trans people don't seem to care. This all has been bothering me so much for months, but because
none of the trans people I personally know plan on even medically transitioning, they assume it won't affect them. Obviously it will, but I wish I had that type of ignorance, I wish I wasn't constantly so scared, trying to predict whatever will happen to me next. Whatever next hurdle I have to impossibly throw myself over. Nobody around me wants to organize and help each other, and even if they did, I don't have enough money for gas to go do anything anyway. I am so miserably broke. And I can't find a job. But that's off topic I guess.
For one of the few times in my life, I feel completely isolated and alone. My family is unsupportive, my friends don't care what will happen to me, and everything seems to just get worse for us here. I have no idea how I'm going to survive the next 10 years of the world. Part of me hopes that I don't. I mostly just want someone to care.
Lipstick on a squid: in an attempt to put a little pep in his step, a TiM dolls himself up at the vanity with a little bit of hodgepodge here and there only to draw back from the looking glass and see a visage he describes as "
Handsome Squidward with lipstick on" staring back at him rather than the cunty li'l Cthulhu he was likely hoping for. OP has not provided selfies, or else I would share them, but I feel as if some posters have an aura about them - a sort of sweaty, yeasty essence - that one need not eyes to see.
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(37, pre-everything) Hey y’all, I’m okay. I’m gonna talk about this in therapy this week, I just want to externalize it somewhere now.
Winter’s been hard. I struggle with seasonal depression every year, and being cold all the time makes it difficult to fit in time with affirming clothing.
The other evening I put on a dress I’d felt euphoria in before and tried a little makeup with it. I saw glimmers of her in the mirror, but
mostly I felt like Handsome Squidward with lipstick on.
I suppose it makes sense that when I’m boymoding my favorite features (the ones I feel lean “pretty”) stand out more, and when I dress femme my heavier features do.
Always a bummer when the dysphoria sneak-attacks when you’re devoting a little time specifically to feel a little affirmation.
Thanks for being here, means a lot!
