For many transgender people, our social media history is a complicated time capsule. Long before we came out, before we had the language to describe ourselves, and before society became more open to gender diversity, we still lived and documented our lives online. For some of us, those years were filled with coded self-expression. For others, they were a blur of survival, masking, and trying to fit into expectations that never truly fit us.
I have been on social media since the very beginning. I still remember Myspace layouts and song lists, Friendster profiles with grainy selfies, and the thrill of getting onto Facebook back when you needed a .edu email address to sign up. I built entire digital worlds for myself in those spaces. I had my music playlists, my top friends, and an ever-growing archive of photos from my early 30s. I stayed active for years, right up until the day I started my transition a little over two years ago.
When I came out, I did not delete my old accounts. I did not even really think about them. Instead, I made new ones, clean slates where I could present myself as I truly am without having to dig through years of posts that felt disconnected from who I had become. These new accounts quickly became my online home.
Recently, curiosity got the better of me. I logged back into my old Facebook for the first time in years to see what had happened to old friends and family members I had lost contact with. I was expecting nostalgia. Instead, I was greeted with something else entirely: the infamous Facebook “Memories” feature. There I was, staring at photos and posts from nearly twenty years ago, snapshots of a version of me that no longer exists in the same way.
And here is the thing. It was not all bad. Yes, it was jarring. Yes, there was dysphoria. But there was also a deep, unexpected gratitude. The person in those photos, the one I sometimes have trouble recognizing as me, got me through some of the most hostile years for transgender people. She, or he as the world saw them then, played the role society demanded, kept me safe in an era when being out was dangerous, and somehow found a way to keep my core self alive until I could finally live authentically.
That realization was a turning point. My old accounts are not just a source of discomfort. They are also a record of survival.
In this article, I want to talk about how to navigate these pre-transition social media accounts, whether you keep them, delete them, archive them, or leave them to collect digital dust. This is not about prescribing the “right” choice. Every transgender person’s relationship with their past is unique. Instead, this is about understanding that these accounts hold complex emotional weight and exploring strategies for handling them in a way that protects your mental well-being.
Why Pre-Transition Social Media Feels So Heavy
For cisgender people, old photos can be embarrassing because of bad haircuts, questionable fashion choices, or outdated slang. For transgender people, those old images often carry an additional layer of meaning. They can feel like receipts from a time when we were forced to perform a version of ourselves that was not true, or like glimpses into a different chapter of life that we have worked hard to move beyond.
The emotional weight comes from several sources:
- Dysphoria Triggers: Seeing yourself before transition can bring up intense feelings of gender dysphoria. Even if you know intellectually that you were doing your best to survive, those images can still feel alien or disconnected.
- Lost Time Regret: Many transgender people feel sadness or frustration about not transitioning sooner. Old posts can highlight years spent in survival mode rather than living authentically.
- Complicated Memories: Your old accounts might also include people who misgendered you, invalidated your identity, or cut off contact after you came out. Revisiting that digital space can reopen wounds.
- Survival Gratitude: On the other hand, there can also be appreciation for the resilience of your pre-transition self. You may recognize that they navigated an often-hostile world and got you here.
Deciding What to Do With Old Accounts
The first thing to understand is that there is no universal “right” choice when it comes to pre-transition social media. The decision is deeply personal, and the correct answer is the one that brings you the most peace.
Keeping Them Active
Some transgender people choose to keep their old accounts open, either publicly or privately. This allows them to:
- Maintain connections with people from their past who still support them.
- Access old photos, messages, and life events without needing to download everything at once.
- Have a complete record of their life, including pre-transition years.
If you choose to keep your accounts active, consider updating your name and profile picture if you feel safe doing so. This can help reduce deadnaming and make it clear to anyone visiting your profile who you are now.
Archiving Them
For some, the healthiest approach is to keep old accounts but set them to private or inactive. This allows you to:
- Preserve your history without actively engaging with it daily.
- Log in when you feel ready, rather than being exposed to unexpected reminders.
- Store old content for potential future use, for example, sharing with a partner or child or for personal reflection.
Archiving can be a gentle middle ground between deleting and keeping an account fully active.
Deleting Them
Others find it best to delete old accounts entirely. This can be a form of closure, helping to:
- Reduce accidental exposure to triggering content.
- Avoid unexpected friend requests or comments from people from your past.
- Free yourself from the emotional burden of maintaining an identity that no longer fits.
Deleting is not erasing your history. It is choosing not to keep a public or private record that causes you distress. If you do delete, you might want to download a copy of your data first in case you ever want it later.
Revisiting Old Memories Without Overwhelm
If you decide to log back into your old accounts, it can be an emotional experience. Here are some tips to make it more manageable:
- Set Boundaries for Viewing Time: Give yourself a time limit so you do not spiral into hours of scrolling.
- Turn Off “Memories” Notifications: Many platforms allow you to disable reminders about past posts.
- View With Support: Consider sharing the experience with a trusted friend, partner, or therapist. They can help you process any emotions that come up.
- Look for Context, Not Just Images: Try to remember the circumstances and feelings around those posts. What was happening in your life at the time? What were you navigating?
- Acknowledge Your Past Self: Even if you feel disconnected from that person, recognize their role in your journey. They got you here.
The Role of Survival Personas
One of the most powerful realizations I had while scrolling through my old account was this: my pre-transition self was not a lie. They were a survival persona.
In a less accepting time, I learned how to present in a way that would keep me safe at work, in my community, and even within my family. That persona learned to navigate the cultural climate of the 2000s, when being openly transgender was rare and often dangerous. Without them, I might not have made it to this point.
That does not mean I want to live in that persona forever. But it does mean I can thank them for doing what they needed to do.
For some transgender people, reframing the pre-transition self as a protector rather than an imposter can make revisiting old accounts less painful.
When Old Friends Resurface
One thing that often happens when logging back into an old account is reconnecting with people you have not spoken to in years. This can be a mixed experience.
Some will surprise you with their support. Others may still hold outdated views or refuse to acknowledge your identity. It is important to set boundaries.
- Decide Ahead of Time How You Will Respond: Will you correct people who misgender you? Will you block them? Will you simply ignore? Knowing in advance helps you stay grounded.
- Remember You Are Not Obligated to Reconnect: Just because someone sends you a message does not mean you owe them a reply.
- Cherish the Positive Reunions: When an old friend greets you with acceptance, let yourself feel that joy. It is proof that some connections can survive change.
Protecting Your Mental Health
Old accounts can be emotional landmines. Protecting your mental health should be the top priority.
- Check Your Mood Before Logging In: If you are already feeling low, it might not be the right day to revisit.
- Practice Self-Compassion: It is normal to have complicated feelings about your pre-transition self. You are allowed to feel gratitude and grief at the same time.
- Seek Support if Needed: A therapist or support group can help you unpack difficult emotions.
The Beauty of Choice
Whether you delete your old accounts, keep them, or archive them, remember the choice is yours. You are not less real for deleting your digital past, and you are not living in the past for keeping it. Both decisions are valid.
Our lives are not defined solely by the images and words we left on the internet years ago. They are shaped by the choices we make today and the futures we build for ourselves.
The Bottom Line
Logging back into my old Facebook account reminded me that I am not just the woman I am today. I am also the sum of every version of myself that existed before this. The 20-something posting blurry photos from a flip phone. The one creating glittery Myspace layouts. The one smiling awkwardly in group pictures, hiding a truth too big to share at the time.
She got me here. And for that, I am grateful.
If you have pre-transition social media accounts, I hope you know this: you get to decide what to do with them. You can keep them, delete them, or just let them sit untouched. You can revisit them when you are ready or never again. Whatever you choose, it is not a measure of your authenticity. It is a reflection of what you need for your own peace.
The past is part of us, but it does not define us. The real power lies in how we choose to move forward.
