A few years ago, I made the choice to pause my transition to have my sons. Three years ago, this was me again, living off T, trying to navigate a body that once felt like home but now felt like a temporary vessel. And this… this is me now. One year after restarting testosterone. The changes weren’t just about getting back what I’d lost. They weren’t some clinical checklist. I’m going to take you through the real experience, month by month, of what one year back on T actually did to my body, my head, and my sense of who I am.
I’ve known who I am for a long time. For me, starting testosterone years ago was about finally getting the outside to match the inside. But life is rarely a straight line. I made the decision to stop T to carry and have my two sons. After they were born, restarting T wasn’t just about changing my body back; it was about returning home. You can read all the medical pamphlets you want, but they don’t tell you about the jolt of waking up and smelling a familiar scent on your skin again, or the weird thrill of your voice cracking like it’s the second first time. My goal here is to share that reality—the messy, amazing, and sometimes super frustrating truth of this second journey. This is my story, a log of the evolution that brought me back home to myself.
The Beginning: Pre-T to Month 1
That first shot back felt like turning the lights on in a room I hadn’t been in for a while. I knew what to expect, but the wave of relief of finally starting again was so huge it felt physical. The first few weeks were all about the “invisible changes.” On the outside, nothing looked that different. But inside? The engine was firing up again.
The biggest shift in that first month was my energy. Living without T, I felt like I was always running on 20% battery. Suddenly, I was waking up feeling… ready. Not just awake, but charged up. The constant brain fog I’d been living with started to clear. Mentally, I felt more grounded than I had since before having my kids. The background static of dysphoria, that feeling of just being wrong that had crept back in, began to quiet down. I wasn’t more aggressive or angry; honestly, I was calmer. It was a kind of peace I had deeply missed. The first physical clue was tiny: my muscles weren’t as sore after a workout. It was the first sign that my body was getting the message and starting to remember how to run on the right fuel.
The First Few Months: Months 2-4
This is when things started to feel familiar, in the best way. Months two through four were a total whirlwind of “returns.” The first time my voice cracked again in the middle of a sentence was both completely mortifying and absolutely exhilarating. It was real. It was happening all over again. My voice wasn’t deep yet, but it was the undeniable sound of things changing back. This was my second puberty, take two. My skin got oily, and I had to deal with acne again.
And then, I started to notice my shape changing. It was subtle at first. My jeans felt looser in the hips but a little tighter in the shoulders. I was hungry all the time. I mean, ravenously hungry. My body was taking all that fuel and putting it to work. For the first time in years, I could actually see definition in my arms and back that wasn’t just from the gym—it was the T helping my body rebuild a masculine frame. I also started seeing more body hair returning—thicker on my arms and legs, and the very first traces of dark fuzz reappearing on my stomach.
Emotionally, this part was a mixed bag. The excitement was off the charts, but so was the impatience. Some days, I’d just stare at my reflection, frustrated that the changes weren’t happening as fast as I remembered. My emotions could be a little all over the place; I definitely found myself getting irritated more easily as my body got used to the hormones again. It was a huge lesson in trusting the process, even when you’ve been through it before.
The Mid-Point: Months 5-8
The middle of the year is when all the small things started to add up to something big again. The changes weren’t so subtle anymore. My voice, after months of cracking and wobbling, finally started to settle back into its lower, more steady range. Hearing a recording of myself no longer made me cringe with dysphoria; instead, I just heard… me. My old self. Around the six-month mark, my face started to change, too—it looked a little more angular, my jawline sharpening again.
This was also when my strength at the gym just exploded. I was hitting PRs I hadn’t touched since before I stopped T. The muscle I’d been slowly building now felt more solid. This change in my body’s shape was wild; fat kept shifting away from my hips and thighs and more toward my stomach, giving me a boxier frame. Feeling my body become a source of actual strength again was so empowering.
But this phase also had its own challenges. As my body kept changing, there were moments I felt like I was rapidly shedding the person I had been for the past couple of years. It was this weird feeling of being more myself than ever, but in a body I was still re-learning. And let’s not forget the constant sweating and having to get used to a much stronger body odor. But any frustration was totally eclipsed by how affirming it all was. Every new chest hair, every time my voice dropped a little lower, was just another sign I was back on the right path.
Approaching the Milestone: Months 9-11
Rounding the corner to the one-year mark, the changes were less about brand-new things appearing and more about everything maturing. The “peach fuzz” on my face started getting real again. More and more dark, coarse hairs popped up on my chin and sideburns. It wasn’t a full beard, not by a long shot, but it was definitely facial hair. Shaving became a normal part of my routine again, a small act that felt incredibly good and right.
My voice continued to drop and find its comfortable resting place. The emotional rollercoaster of the first few months finally smoothed out, replaced by this deep sense of stability. The irritability faded, and what was left was this quiet confidence that came from the inside. This is when it all really clicked. Looking in the mirror, the person staring back at me wasn’t a stranger anymore. The disconnect I had felt while off T was just… dissolving. I started to feel less like I was “re-transitioning” and more like I was just living, in a body that finally felt like it was mine again.
One Year: The Full Circle
And now, here we are. One year. 365 days of this wild, life-changing return journey. When I look at a picture from a year ago, I see a man who put his own needs on hold for his family. I see how tired he was from living a life that wasn’t quite his. Today, I see a man. And not just because my shoulders are broader or my jaw is more defined or my voice is deeper. I see a man who is comfortable in his own skin. A father who is whole.
The physical evolution has been huge. I’ve regained muscle and lost body fat; my whole physique has been reshaped. My face has changed, I have body hair, and my voice is totally different. But the biggest change is the one you can’t see in a before-and-after picture. It’s the internal shift. The feeling of waking up and not having to fight with your own reflection. It’s the quiet confidence that comes from your brain and your body finally being on the same page. This journey wasn’t just about adding testosterone; it was about subtracting the noise that had come back into my life, and proving I could have my family and myself. It was about coming home.
This year has been one of the hardest and, without a doubt, one of the best years of my life. It was a second puberty, and it came with all the awkwardness, the frustration, and the eventual wins. The medical timelines can give you a map, but they can’t prepare you for the feeling of truly becoming yourself, again. It’s a journey that takes so much patience, trust, and self-acceptance.
If you’re on this path, or any path that isn’t a straight line, please know that your journey is going to be yours alone. It’ll have its own timeline, its own victories, and its own challenges. But you are not alone in it.
I want this to be a place where we can share these experiences. So, I have a question for you: for anyone on a non-linear journey, what has been the most surprising change for you, physical or emotional? Drop it in the comments below. Your story matters, and sharing it helps every single one of us feel a little less on our own. If you want to see what year two brings, make sure to subscribe and join me for the next chapter. Thanks for letting me share my story with you.
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