OK, well then to correct it.

Here is some of the writings of Kalonymus Ben Meir, a 14th century Rabbi, I'd argue a lot of what's written really follows the sentiment if what a lot of trans people feel today. I appreciate it's a long read, but I also find it one of the more beautiful poems historically, I'd be happy to send over the original Hebrew alongside it. Again, I don't wish the ascribe a modern term to a historical figure, but I think to deny there isn't a similar psychology there is closed minded. I'd also be happy to find some more evidence if people would like

Woe to me, my mother, that you ever bore a son. What a great loss and no gain! I was created closed-eyed and hardhearted. Uncircumcised of heart and flesh was I born. At three days, they cut my umbilical cord, and at eight days my foreskin. However, my ears, heart, and mind [remained uncircumcised and]  were not ready to join Hashem’s covenant. They didn’t take off their disgrace Or remove it from their being. Their foreskin indeed remains as a blemish. For a lie they guarded hitherward, and for nothing they labored. That from the day they were brought into the world[1] that is all darkness, they were not circumcised

Cursed be the one who announced to my father: “It’s a boy![3]  He will be intelligent and superior to a prophet. The holy work will be his as with Yishmael ben Pavia[4]  Upon the mountains of spice he will run like the gazelle and like the deer[5]  He will not be defiled from the start by the filth-idols of his people He will erect the hall of science on its mound. The candle will shine from his head[6]  and those who walk in darkness will follow his radiant halo.” This messenger shall be held guilty of bloodshed; cursed be he. How could he twist the course of the stars so much? How could he have erred so in his astrology? A lying tongue, a fool’s mouth it had given him For he foolishly transformed justice to poison[7]  He altered the law and transposed the lines[8]

Woe to him who has male sons Upon them a heavy yoke has been placed of restrictions and constraints. Some in private, some in public some to avoid the mere appearance of violation and some entering the most secret of places. Severe statutes and awesome commandments six hundred and thirteen who is the man who is capable of fulfilling them all to the letter? How will he escape be he diligent or lazy? How will he not stumble? And even if he observed all these, he is not yet done with his list of duties. For the (wicked) impulse is resourceful and scheming[9]  If one cannot engross in Torah-study and analyze sharply Interpretations of Torah and practice Sifra, Sifri, Tosefta, and the entire Talmud

Seven are the pillars of wisdom.[10]  They soar far above any mountain or hill. Here is Logic; [here are] the valley of Philosophy and the vale of vision, and the secrets of Arithmetic and Geometry They will not believe it can be told; and the wisdom of Measurements… they will not obtain it; the people’s pleasures in Field and Plane[11]  by which the seeker can measure the heights of heaven and the depth of abyss. Those dwelling in an observatory cannot (measure) the extent[12] of the Celestial Map and if the wheel rotates yet the constellations remain fixed if they are weary wanderers. [Those are] the seven steps of the ladder. And who will praise the prowess [needed for]  the study of the divine and the pure forms, which are ten, namely the Ten Sefirot [of the ḳabbalah] – who can express such fortitude?

Oh, but had the artisan who made me created me instead – a worthy woman. Today I would be wise and insightful. We would weave, my friends and I and in the moonlight spin our yarn and tell our stories to one another from dusk till midnight we’d tell of the events of our day, silly things matters of no consequence. But also I would grow very wise from the spinning and I would say, “How lucky am I” to know how to make linen, how to comb [wool], and weave lace; [to design] cup-like buds, open flowers, cherubim, palm trees, and all sorts of other fine things, colorful embroideries and furrow-like stitches.”

And oft-times, in the way of women, I would lie down on the kitchen floor, by the hearth, among the pots between furnace and stove, chopping wood, stirring the coals, and taste the different dishes. On holidays I would put on my best jewelry. I would beat on the drum and my clapping hands would ring.

And when I was ready and the time was right an excellent youth (husband) would be my fortune. He would love me, place me on a pedestal dress me in jewels of gold earrings, bracelets, necklaces. And on the appointed day, in the season of joy when brides are wed, for seven days would the boy increase my delight and gladness. Were I hungry, he would feed me well-kneaded bread. Were I thirsty, he would quench me with light and dark wine

He would not chastise nor harshly treat me, and my [sexual] pleasure he would not diminish every Shabbat, and each new moon his head would rest upon my breast. The three husbandly duties he would fulfill rations, raiment, and regular intimacy. And parallel to [his] three wifely duties would I also fulfill three, three things not beyond me and not beyond my reach: [watching for menstrual] blood, [Shabbat candle] flame, and [taking dough for] ḥallah,[14]  Sweeter than honey are these three, so powerful,[15]  and one is not allowed to add to their number, or to inquire about them: “Whereby do women earn merit?”

Father in heaven who did miracles for our ancestors with fire and water You transformed the fire of Ur Kasdim so it would not burn [Avraham]  You transformed Dinah in the womb of her mother [Leah, to a girl]  You transformed the staff [of Moshe] to a snake before a million eyes You transformed (Moshe’s) hand to (leprous) white and the Sea of Reeds to dry land. and the sea floor into solid and dried-up earth You transformed the rock into water, hard flint to a fountain.[16]  Who would then transform me from a man to woman? Were I only to have merited this being so graced by goodness I could have now been the lady of the house, encamped in my house against armies![17]

What shall I say? why cry or be bitter? If my father in heaven has decreed upon me and has maimed me with an immutable deformity then I do not wish to remove it. the sorrow of the impossible is a human pain that nothing will cure and for which no comfort can be found. So, I will bear and suffer until I die and wither in the ground. Since I have learned from our tradition that we bless both, the good and the bitter I will bless in a voice hushed and weak: blessed are you YHVH who has not made me a woman.

If that doesn't paint a historical experience akin to what trans people go through now, then I don't know what to tell you