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When i was 11, I found a video on youtube called “How to bind safely.” I’d never even heard of binding before. I looked at what it was, and discovered the trans community. Around the same time, a new teacher came to my school who identified as non-binary and used they/them pronouns. It seemed perfect, so I changed my pronouns to that as well, because when I looked inside I “Didn’t feel like a girl”. I told my mom. She said no one does. I didn’t listen. I also started wearing a binder. Shortly after I moved to a new school and met multiple trans people around the same age as me, who encouraged me to want to transition. I started calling myself he/him. I became more dysphoric than ever and would obsess over the parts of me I didn’t like, and try to pass as male as much as possible.

It was basically the only thing I ever thought about, and I was meanwhile trying to like guys, because I didn’t wanna be a lesbian, and I was worried it would invalidate my supposed boyhood. Then, I don’t know exactly what happened but slowly, I stopped thinking about it as much. My parents were a big help. I’m finally at the point where i only think about it a few times a day, and i no longer identify myself as something i can never be. I had to want to not be trans before I could desist happily. My biggest regret was wearing the binder so much over those three years. I frequently have acute pains in my breasts and ribs now, and posture issues. It reminds me that I did that to myself. I'm so sorry to my body for what I did.



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