My ex and I were pretty open with each other, although it took me something like eight or ten years to tell him about my other worlds--and somewhere in there, I found out that he had one, too. His wasn't a waking fantasy so much as a dream he had when he slept.
My inner life...well, I'll be honest, he never knew the half of it. Nobody did until I told my therapist. My ex didn't know, for example, that I spent whole days inside my head and even sometimes drove my car while I was in fantasy mode. It was the only way I could cope. So I definitely held out on him, but that was private stuff.
The trans thing killed our communication. In most ways, we were like two guys who were best friends--except with straight sex thrown in. Frankly, I think that my being trans was what he needed--except for the physical transition part. If he ever gets into another relationship, he'll need a girl who is very guy-ish in a lot of ways. Maybe a tomboy.
In the end, I learned how to share some of the deep stuff with him because I was talking about it in therapy and very much wanted the relationship to survive. But by then, my ex rarely shared his deepest feelings and fears with me. I tried to draw him out, but he went into cave mode and never came out. He saw a therapist once--after he had already decided to end the relationship.
I know that there was homophobia there. At least, he didn't want to be in a gay relationship, whereas that was the kind of relationship I'd always wanted, from childhood. Well before transition, I could see where my partner drew the line. If people "mistook" me for a guy but I wasn't really working at it, that was okay. If I was trying to be seen as male, that wasn't okay. So if we walked down the street hand in hand, and I was just being myself, and people yelled "->-bleeped-<-gots!" at us (which happened many times), he could laugh that off. But if I bound and went out to the opera with him and I tried to hold his hand, he became a stiff, uncomfortable stranger and either stood there frozen or actually pulled away. Not his finest hour, but at least I fully understand it now.
When we were still negotiating the terms of our relationship at the very end, he informed me, "I'm not gay. I won't be gay. That's your thing. I won't be a part of that world." I told him that he didn't have to socialize in gay circles and that I wouldn't expect him to come to the Center or go to Pride. In the last analysis, that wasn't enough for him. He really needed to be with a woman. I hope he finds one, and I hope she likes girl watching, science fiction, Jackie Chan, and The Evil Dead