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(If you don't like transgender regret stories, please leave 🙅🏻 This is not a story about me)

As much as I hate to have to write all this down, I have to let it all out. I was once a transgender girl named Natalie. Well, I still am a daughter in my mother's eyes but I'll get to that in a second. I always envisioned myself as a girl. I always wanted to wear a dress, heels, and makeup when nobody was home. I at one point lied to my parents, saying I wanted to go to church every Sunday when in all actuality I just went to my friend's house and played dress up. I managed to gain the courage to confess to my mother how I viewed myself and she was very accepting to my surprise. Being an only child, she was thrilled at the thought of finally having a daughter. I was able to go to prom in a dress after begging my principal, even though I was in fact medically transitioning so I should've been able to like any other girl. I wore the most beautiful pink ball gown. I felt like the princess I always wanted to be. Fast forward 3 years, I wasn't satisfied with the B cup breasts that the hormones produced. I asked my mother if I could get breast implants. She let me get DD cup breasts.. nothing higher which I was surprised she even let me go past C, let alone DDs. Everything was fine for awhile, until I started experiencing regret over it. My chest became a big pain in the ass, more like my back but you know what I mean. It was mostly because of all the harassment I would experience. But I also hated how they jiggled around 24/7. It was through me now hating my chest that I soon started taking a long look in the mirror, coming to the realization that I didn't feel like a girl anymore. I hated everything I became and everything I've done. My mother noticed that I wasn't taking my medications and she confronted me about it. The day beforehand confirmed everything because my mother kind of pressured me into wearing a dress to my cousin's wedding. It was because she was an hour late that I was just left focused solely on how I let this get so far, unable to distract myself from what I was wearing, my manicured nails, my shaved legs, my chest of course, and having to constantly check my makeup, having to stare at a woman I didn't even know anymore. It was during the ceremony that I started to cry. I lied to my mother, saying I was happy for Hailey when in all actuality, she lost her beloved daughter, her princess. That's when I broke down in tears and told her everything. She wasn't having it. She was so thrilled finally having a daughter. She didn't want all this money going to waste and that it would break her heart losing her daughter She said she didn't want her son back... because she never wanted one. As you can probably guess, I threw a fit, pleading for my old life back. I stood up to her saying that I wasn't a woman all this time. I was just a man in makeup. That when she slapped me. She now forces me to be her daughter. Everything remotely masculine was taken away from me. My closet is now filled to the brim with girly attire, mostly dresses and heels. Makeup bags fill my bathroom. All my video games were replaced with something even girlier. Big plush bunnies, bunny slippers, little purses, wall decor, and even having my prom dress on display next to my bed. My mother forces me to wear it at least once a week to "Show the world that you're a pretty princess". She not only wanted to keep her daughter, she wanted the little girl she never got to have. You think I'm joking? Just look at my room and you'll see.

images.app.goo.gl/jmbG7NCGH5gD…

I became haunted by the pictures in my room that showed me in my prom dress, pictures of me and my ex boyfriend, the day she practically threw me a Quinceanera despite me not being Hispanic, me showing off my new boobs after the surgery. I smashed all of them, only for my mother to replace them. She noticed that I had started covering the pictures up so it wouldn't make me cry all the time. Everytime I did so, she would take away my phone. I don't know why I was always on my phone, as it would always remind me of my pink nails that my mother takes me to the salon for. I followed my heart, I dealt with so much damage, and made the decision to turn my life around by living in my own image.. only for it to turn around and make things worse. I am not Natalie. I was never Natalie. I am Nate.

Description
(If you don't like transgender regret stories, please leave 🙅🏻 This is not a story about me)

As much as I hate to have to write all this down, I have to let it all out. I was once a transgender girl named Natalie. Well, I still am a daughter in my mother's eyes but I'll get to that in a second. I always envisioned myself as a girl. I always wanted to wear a dress, heels, and makeup when nobody was home. I at one point lied to my parents, saying I wanted to go to church every Sunday when in all actuality I just went to my friend's house and played dress up. I managed to gain the courage to confess to my mother how I viewed myself and she was very accepting to my surprise. Being an only child, she was thrilled at the thought of finally having a daughter. I was able to go to prom in a dress after begging my principal, even though I was in fact medically transitioning so I should've been able to like any other girl. I wore the most beautiful pink ball gown. I felt like the princess I always wanted to be. Fast forward 3 years, I wasn't satisfied with the B cup breasts that the hormones produced. I asked my mother if I could get breast implants. She let me get DD cup breasts.. nothing higher which I was surprised she even let me go past C, let alone DDs. Everything was fine for awhile, until I started experiencing regret over it. My chest became a big pain in the ass, more like my back but you know what I mean. It was mostly because of all the harassment I would experience. But I also hated how they jiggled around 24/7. It was through me now hating my chest that I soon started taking a long look in the mirror, coming to the realization that I didn't feel like a girl anymore. I hated everything I became and everything I've done. My mother noticed that I wasn't taking my medications and she confronted me about it. The day beforehand confirmed everything because my mother kind of pressured me into wearing a dress to my cousin's wedding. It was because she was an hour late that I was just left focused solely on how I let this get so far, unable to distract myself from what I was wearing, my manicured nails, my shaved legs, my chest of course, and having to constantly check my makeup, having to stare at a woman I didn't even know anymore. It was during the ceremony that I started to cry. I lied to my mother, saying I was happy for Hailey when in all actuality, she lost her beloved daughter, her princess. That's when I broke down in tears and told her everything. She wasn't having it. She was so thrilled finally having a daughter. She didn't want all this money going to waste and that it would break her heart losing her daughter She said she didn't want her son back... because she never wanted one. As you can probably guess, I threw a fit, pleading for my old life back. I stood up to her saying that I wasn't a woman all this time. I was just a man in makeup. That when she slapped me. She now forces me to be her daughter. Everything remotely masculine was taken away from me. My closet is now filled to the brim with girly attire, mostly dresses and heels. Makeup bags fill my bathroom. All my video games were replaced with something even girlier. Big plush bunnies, bunny slippers, little purses, wall decor, and even having my prom dress on display next to my bed. My mother forces me to wear it at least once a week to "Show the world that you're a pretty princess". She not only wanted to keep her daughter, she wanted the little girl she never got to have. You think I'm joking? Just look at my room and you'll see.

images.app.goo.gl/jmbG7NCGH5gD…

I became haunted by the pictures in my room that showed me in my prom dress, pictures of me and my ex boyfriend, the day she practically threw me a Quinceanera despite me not being Hispanic, me showing off my new boobs after the surgery. I smashed all of them, only for my mother to replace them. She noticed that I had started covering the pictures up so it wouldn't make me cry all the time. Everytime I did so, she would take away my phone. I don't know why I was always on my phone, as it would always remind me of my pink nails that my mother takes me to the salon for. I followed my heart, I dealt with so much damage, and made the decision to turn my life around by living in my own image.. only for it to turn around and make things worse. I am not Natalie. I was never Natalie. I am Nate.