Sorry if I am a little late to the discussion. For what it is worth, your situation has some parallels to mine. I've only recently come out to my partner as trans, and it has been a bit of a roller coaster. I pretty much agree with all of the advice above. The one thing I can add that might be helpful is to keep her perspective in mind.
We've been together for over 10 years. I'm getting a little older and our life is pretty established so my family is more important to me than my gender expression, and this influences how I am thinking about my transition. My self-understanding has been evolving ever since I came out to my partner last summer/spring. She had no clue about my gender, and her initial response was supportive. She says she believes me when I say I was in deep denial about my gender, and that in a sense I really did not know. (I was "cross-dressing" in secret periodically and saw it as a bad habit I was trying to give up. You know, like smoking!
We have talked a lot. We are very good at communicating with one another. We both have therapists skilled with gender issues. We do couples therapy with my therapist who is themselves nonbinary. We both also go to support groups for trans people and partners of trans people. So basically, we're doing everything "right."
Even given all of that and the best intentions, it is hard for my partner even though she is awesome and supportive. It is hard for her for several reasons. First, being the partner of a trans person forces someone to question their own identity. For years, my partner could easily identify as a cis heterosexual woman. Now she has to re-open those kinds of questions all over again. Is she really heterosexual if I am the person she chose to make a life with? What does it mean for her identity if we stay together? Given that these are questions that most people resolve in adolescence, it can be painful and frustrating to have these questions forced upon you once again. There might be some resentment there.
Second, because my own self-understanding is still evolving, she has to constantly re-think all of the above and our relationship every time I learn something new about my identity. So it's not just a one-time event; it's a continuing process over which she has no control but with which she must cope. Her reactions to my identity have changed over time, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse, because she is constantly re-thinking her own identity in response to mine. I don't expect that to end until I have a more stable self-understanding about my identity.
Third, she has no control over whom she can tell or who will know about this part of our relationship. I'm still not out publicly so she constantly has to monitor what she says and to whom she says it. It can feel bad keeping secrets from friends and loved ones. (Boy, do trans people understand that!) It can be stressful having to be careful about what one says. And it can be really hard to feel like you have no control over who does get to know. And this is the case even though I am mindful of her need to tell people so she can have support, and she has told a number of people whom I would not have chosen to share with on my own.
Fourth, while I was in denial, I did keep a very important secret from her. I can't imagine that even though she understands, she doesn't somewhere deep down feel sad, hurt, and a little mistrustful because I could not tell her something so fundamental to our relationship with one another. I would not blame her if the question, "What else haven't they told me?" haunts her mind in some way.
Fifth, as my self-understanding changed, my transition plans change. How out I want to be, the kinds of gender expression I want to show the world, and medical interventions I'm considering also force my partner to rethink how we will relate to each other and the people around us. Like my changing identity, my changing wants and needs about my gender expression force my partner to reflect on fundamental aspects of her life and does so in a way over which she feels like she has no control.
I think I had a sixth, but I think I've also written too much! The basic point is that transitioning is not a solitary act when you are already in a relationship. It is something that you do together. And the partner is always reacting to our needs, which is hard and so unlike the rest of our relationship. None of that means we should always defer to our partners' wants or that transitioning is not a legitimate need. It does mean that we should understand how complicated our partners' experience of transitioning will be and, for me at least, that I need to be clear in my own mind about the difference between what kind of transition I want and the kind I need. Transitions can be pretty diverse, and I am trying to find a path that meets both of our needs.
Jody
