Imagine that is a thing- rapid onset gender dysphoria is a social contagion, as a teenager you take T and have chest masculinisation, and then only three or four years later you regret it. You are a woman. Except now you have thick facial and body hair, your voice is breaking, you may develop male pattern baldness and you have no breasts. You have mutilated yourself in pursuit of a poisonous fantasy.
Someone who reverted might believe that. It is a lie, a terrible trap for vulnerable teenage girls. Given time, you could have come to glory in being a woman, the power and freedom that being a woman brings, but you were trapped by your fears and fantasies into trying to escape. You rejected truth and beauty for something less. Your punishment is to have what you wanted.
And you are still stuck, between desire and reality, manhood and womanhood, fantasy, belief, all whirls around you ungraspable, incomprehensible, unreachable. The reverting trans person regrets the body they could have had and the damage they have done to it, and still you are not what you ought to be.
It is as it always was: desire to be what you are not, shame at not being what you ought to be. At some time you have to stop running, fleeing or pursuing. There is only acceptance of what you are now, with your history, the substances you have taken and the relationships you have broken, the bad choices, the fear and the failures will always be yours. You don’t understand metanoia, true repentance and amendment of life, until you achieve it, and that is acceptance.
You are yourself, your own powers and affections, and only yourself.
From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit moves
unless restored by that refining fire.
The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.
That is all there is. I will not revert. It would get me nothing I do not have now, just delay appreciating it.