Trans man regrets
My name is Tiger Reed. I am a 44-year-old librarian in St. Louis, Missouri. Since 2016, I have been married to Jamie Reed. She is the whistleblower who exposed the alarming effects of “gender-affirming” medical care given to minors at the Washington University Transgender Center at St. Louis Children’s Hospital in a 2023 article for The Free Press. Her story shocked the nation. I am also “Dad” to the five children we are raising together—two from Jamie’s previous marriage and three we have adopted.
And now, after 13 years of living as a man, I am in the process of tapering down my weekly testosterone injections to begin the process of becoming a woman again.
…
I realize the thing that threatened me the most about Jamie going public was something I didn’t want to face. This was the knowledge that my spouse and a growing chorus of knowledgeable critics were right. They were right that there was something fundamentally amiss with the message, especially to young people, that a swift gender transition was a safe, all-purpose solution to profound problems.
Especially to young people. I remember being a member of the young people community, and how swiftly and easily everything could change. I also remember being kind of stupid about a lot of things. I’m glad I didn’t indulge in any hasty amputations when I was a young person.
I want to speak out about adult gender medicine, and how people have been misled—sometimes unintentionally—by gender clinicians about its safety and effectiveness.
Note the sometimes unintentionally. Indicates that other times it was intentional.
I know there isn’t a lot of sympathy for those of us who transition as adults. People assume you made your choice, and you knew what you were signing up for. But in recent years we have been finding out that reliable research for transition, especially concerning its long-term effects, is virtually nonexistent. The comprehensive Cass Review showed the lack of scientific underpinning for the commonly accepted medical treatments for gender dysphoria—hormones and surgery—especially for kids.
In other words people don’t know what they’re signing up for, yet they’re hotly and passionately urged to sign up for it anyway. Why? Why are we doing this?
I knew that going on testosterone at age 31, and five years later having my breasts removed, would bring profound physical changes. But no one I consulted prepared me for the emotional consequences of transition—for how the hormones would change not only my appearance but how I felt about myself and the world.
Why not? Probably because the whole thing is so intensely politicized that people are afraid to do that kind of preparing. Probably because anything that’s not enthusiastic encouragement is branded transphobic. If you talk about the potential downsides and risks, you must be a monster who wants to hurt Members of the Trans Communinny. It’s safer not to. Not safer for the person transitioning, of course, but for the people enabling the “transition.”
Today, the harmful physical effects of over a decade on testosterone have started to make themselves known: high cholesterol, high blood pressure, type 2 diabetes, high triglycerides, sleep apnea, and issues with my kidneys. While some of these problems are hereditary, the testosterone in my system only exacerbates them.
That sounds like a lot.
I’m going public because I want people like me who have complex and nuanced reasons for their gender distress to be part of the conversation. I want people to know there are more options than medicalizing their bodies for the rest of their lives.
I hope there will be many more.