But after eight years of living as a woman, my once-successful transition turned on me. I mean the exhilaration from the early days wore off, and I found myself reflecting on my transition. I came to realize that all the changes to my appearance, dramatic and effective as they were, were only cosmetic. All the changes to my identity documents—birth certificate, driver’s license, Social Security card—were in name only, simply words on the paper. If I only could have remained living in my delusional gender bubble all would have been good, perhaps.

The reality that I was not a woman was just too much for me. Unexpectedly, my emotions plunged downward and overwhelmed me. All the gender specialists I consulted assured me I was a true transgender. They encouraged me to stick with my female gender, but eight years was long enough. It was over.

The shame of being so narcissistic and self-absorbed as a transgender female and knowing I had hurt the ones I loved resulted in deep depression and regret. I started to consider suicide. That’s what I mean when I say my once successful transition turned on me. I discovered much too late that gender change surgery was not a medical necessity at all. I can admit that transition was the biggest mistake of my life.