By: Cecil C.
Cecil C. is a detrans woman who began talking about their experiences with transitioning, detransitioning, and gender identity in late 2021. Their focus is on conceptualizing detrans identity free of anti-trans framing or weaponization. They post about their experiences on Twitter (@shabnaka).
Detransition has variable meanings, often varying depending on the context and space in which it is used. It is sometimes used to refer to those who come to re-identify with their birth sex after transitioning. In other cases, it refers to anyone who stops or reverses a gender transition, regardless of gender identity. The later definition is typically used in transgender communities, which may be applied to trans individuals who temporarily stop transitioning due to circumstantial reasons, such as financial issues, health complications, or anti-trans discrimination. The former definition is often used outside of the transgender community, including spaces which could be considered trans-hostile.
The trans-exclusionary radical feminist community was instrumental in laying the foundations for the current anti-trans detrans milieu. The detrans radfem community held that gender dysphoria arose due to women’s subjugation under patriarchy, and that transition was a means of coping with said dysphoria. This framework portrayed transgender identity and transition as forms of disassociating from womanhood that were harms in themselves, and that dysphoria could instead be mitigated via engagement with radical feminist consciousness raising. But while detrans radical feminist community did not have widespread appeal, the idea of “dysphoria as a form of trauma, transition as a form of dissociation,” was an appealing concept. It would carry into the current “gender critical” (GC) movement.
The GC movement would abandon the radfem principle against traditional therapy, instead heavily leaning into it, proposing the idea of rapid-onset gender dysphoria (ROGD). ROGD hypothesized that youth were not suffering from “true” gender dysphoria, but rather, a social contagion of transgender identification, generally linked to other issues. Thus, treatment would consist of finding the source of the discomfort and resolving those problems. Transition, it is argued, would be a harm that would not address the deeper causes. The notion that gender dysphoria and/or transgender identity is always the result of trauma acts as a form of ideologically-driven detransitioning/desistance. For those whose dysphoria, trans identity, or desire to transition persists, it is only a sign that more effort is needed to mitigate the underlying trauma.
For such individuals, detransition acts as a form of reparative therapy, a means of suppressing one’s transgender identity or dysphoria. Many transgender people and their allies have rightfully pointed out the similarities between this reparative gender therapy and the conversion therapy tactics used by some anti-gay groups. In some cases, this has led to some concluding that detransition and self-identified detransitioners/detrans people are themselves promoters of detransition/desistance for transgender people. Others may argue that while the exact motivations of individual detrans people may be unknown, the usage of “detransition” and derivative terms make it inherently problematic. “Detrans” in particular, used as an abbreviated form of “detransitioned,” is seen as inherently oppositional to “trans”– that is, that “detrans” is less about a person’s transition status and more about the negation of trans identity, fueling the idea of “detransition as conversion therapy.”
In response to the negative connotations and hostility to “detransition” language, some trans people and trans-positive detransitioners have attempted to find alternative terminology to describe the same experience. Some have used the terms “retransition/retrans” instead, meant to portray a reversal of an initial transition as a sort of “second transition,” as well as to promote more positive connotations of the experience, i.e. the continuation of a broader process of self-exploration rather than the revocation of trans identity. For some, this sentiment may ring true, but it is not universal. “Detransition” may actually be more accurate terminology for those who identify with their birth sex/gender or are trying to reverse aspects of their transition. Moreover, “retransition” can also refer to a transition that takes place some time after a detransition has already occurred, which muddles its precise meaning.
Others have opposed to identifying terminology whatsoever for people who undergo detransition, using the term’s history as justification, and additionally, arguing that detrans people are simply cisgender. This is a grossly reductive misunderstanding, as it implies that detransitioners will live no differently than a person who has never transitioned. Detransitioners, much like transgender people, can have a wide array of gender expression and may suffer from transphobic and anti-GNC discrimination. This is particularly so for those who transitioned medically and surgically, which mark them as visibly gender non-conforming, regardless of desired presentation.
Trying to reconfigure or police the language of detransitioners misses the true issue that detransition is simply used as a tool for conversion therapy, and is not inherently a form of conversion therapy. Rather than acknowledging that distinction, the onus is unfairly placed on all detransitioners to themselves modify the language of their experience, both worsening the tension between the trans and detrans communities, and ignoring that conversion therapy proponents are responsible for constructing the anti-trans connotations of detransition terminology.
Internalized transphobia is not the only reason for detransitioning, and even having detransition narratives that seem in-line with the claims of conversion therapists (gender dysphoria arising from sexism/homophobia, other mental health issues, trauma, etc.) are not themselves indicative of anti-transition motivations. The core of anti-trans conversion therapy is that it holds transgender identity and transitioning to be inherent wrongs or harms which must be avoided, even by means of continuous repression. While the many factors that go into detransition can be complex and difficult to navigate, it should ultimately be done for one’s own wellbeing, not for the sake of moral, political, or ideological purity.
The language of detransition is important precisely because it is through language that individuals are able to find support and build community. When anger, depression, or regret arise during detransition, it is critical that detrans people are able to find others that can help them navigate those feelings. It is used to find access to medical resources and information, and to simply have the words to describe our shared experiences. Detransition can be extremely difficult, even when it is the best choice available– detransitioners need the terminology to accurately and openly express what they are going through.
There is no detransition without transition–every detrans person has, at some point, navigated the same challenges that transgender people do. The common detransition issues of regret, substandard care, and discrimination for being gender-nonconforming are struggles shared by trans people. And ultimately, transition and detransition should both be means of finding self-actualization, of finding peace within our bodies and a gendered world. With so much commonality and overlap between us, trans and detrans communities, there is great potential for us to work together to find justice. For that to happen, we need to have mutual respect for how we talk about our identities and experiences.