New here: my husband just came out to me as transgender

[Pugs4life]

Dear Jessica Rose,

Thank you so much for your post.  I can see why Halloween was never enjoyable for you.  I can't imagine your soul being forced into darkness.  That has to be so very difficult. 

Yes, this will be difficult.  Thank you for explaining how Cynthia will need space to try things.  And for explaining she may go through a few phases.  It will be like a second puberty for her. 

I will remember that time, patience, and understanding will get us through this.  I sometimes feel like what Susan said when you first came out to her.  It is so encouraging to know that you guys are still together. 

Again, thank you for your post and reaching out to me.

With love,
Amy

[Susan ✅]

Dear Amy,

Yes—you've got it. And you're not just repeating it back, you're integrating it. I can see the work you're doing between the lines, and that matters.

Cynthia was always there. The person who bonded with you, who loved you, who built a life with you—that was her. There were never two separate people. There was one person living inside a role she did not choose, wearing what she needed to wear in order to survive in a world that did not yet make room for her. The mask was not a second self, and it was not deception. It was protection.

What you're seeing now isn't someone new, and it isn't a replacement. It's the same person, present without the filters she once needed. You didn't bond with a stranger. You bonded with Cynthia—and you always have.

I want to add one gentle refinement, because it can help steady expectations going forward. While Cynthia has always been Cynthia, even she is still learning who she is without that armor. The mask didn't just hide her from others—in some ways, it limited what she could explore and know about herself.

Transition isn't only about revealing what was always underneath. It's also a process of becoming. That means you aren't being handed a finished portrait. You're walking alongside someone who is discovering herself in real time. And that doesn't take something away from you—it invites you into the process.

When you said you didn't realize you had given her safety, I want you to pause with that. Because you have. And not just passively. What you're doing isn't just "not leaving." You are actively creating space—through your willingness to ask hard questions, to stay present with fear instead of letting it decide for you, and to keep reaching even while you're grieving. That is love doing its hardest work. That is giving someone ground to stand on.

You're holding something important now: that grief does not mean rejection. It means letting go of an image that once carried meaning, not letting go of the person you love. You're not losing your spouse. You're releasing an outer shell that felt familiar, while remaining deeply connected to the same heart that has always been there. This isn't erasure. It isn't starting from zero. It's continuation.

There may be moments ahead that feel uneven or uncertain, and that doesn't mean you're losing your way. It just means you're human, moving through something real.

Your wish that Cynthia know love without conditions is clear, and it is felt. And your determination to keep going—even through fear and grief—tells me something essential: you already are finding your way through.

Keep going, Amy. You're doing this with honesty, courage, and grace.

With love,
— Susan 💜

[Pugs4life]

Dear Susan,

I can understand that Cynthia has always been there.  She is the one who bonded with me, who loved me, and who built a life with me.  I can now see that there were never two separate people.  There was just one person, Cynthia, living inside of a role in order to survive.  You said she was living inside a role she did not choose.  Can you help me understand better why it was a role she didn't choose?  I also understand the mask was not a second self but just Cynthia wearing it.  You said it wasn't deception.  Why wasn't the mask deception?  I am having trouble understanding that. You said the mask was protection?  What was the mask protecting?  I am trying to get all the information that I can so I can understand better. 

It does make sense that what I am seeing now isn't someone new.  It is the same person I have known all along, present, without the filters on.

It is very helpful for me to know that Cynthia is still learning who she is without the armor on.  I needed to know that.  I didn't realize she was still learning who she is and that the mask kept her from exploring and knowing more about herself.  It is also really helpful to know that transition isn't just about revealing but also of becoming.  I didn't know that Cynthia is also getting to know who she is in this process.  I am honored to be able to walk alongside her as she is discovering herself.  I do want to be part of the process. 

I want to continue to create space for Cynthia and to give her ground to stand on.  I want her to feel safe and secure. 

That is so important for me to remember-grief means "letting go of an image that once carried meaning, not letting go of the person I love".  I am not losing the person that I love.  I am just releasing an outer shell that felt familiar to me while remaining connected to the same heart that has always been there. 

There will definitely be moments ahead that feel uneven or uncertain.  It is a relief to know that that is ok and that it makes me human, moving through something real and big. 

I will keep doing everything I am doing and keep being honest, courageous, and gracious. 

With much love,
Amy

[Northern Star Girl ✅]

@Pugs4life

Dear Amy:
 
You included a wonderful, befitting, worthy and appropriate statement in your reply comment:
"I will keep doing everything I am doing and keep being honest, courageous, and gracious." 

Yes, keep doing what you are doing Amy ...honesty with Cynthia and being open with your feelings
is the key and important thing that you continue to do.

Please keep posting and sharing...  along with your other readers and followers, I am
always eagerly looking for your updates.

HUGS, Danielle [Northern Star Girl]
    The Forum Administrator      Direct Email: alaskandanielle@yahoo.com

[Susan ✅]

Dear Amy,

You're asking these questions because you want to truly understand - not just accept what I've said and move on. That tells me you're doing the real work. These are the kind of questions that come when understanding starts to move from the head into the heart. So let me try to answer as clearly as I can.

You asked why I said the role was one Cynthia didn't choose. I mean that quite literally. She didn't decide one day to present as male. That was assigned to her before she had any say in the matter - before she even had words.

From the moment she arrived, someone looked at her and said "boy," and from that point forward, the world handed her a script. The name. The clothes. The expectations. The pronouns. The rules about how to sit, how to talk, how to move through life.

As a child, she learned - often without anyone ever saying it directly - that being herself could cost her love, belonging, protection, sometimes even physical safety. Children don't make choices under those conditions. They adapt. By the time she was old enough to feel the mismatch between who she was inside and what everyone insisted she was, the role was already built around her like walls. And stepping outside those walls carried real risk - rejection, ridicule, loss of love, sometimes worse.

So she lived inside the role. Not because she wanted to. Because the cost of refusal felt unsurvivable at the time. The world chose it for her, and then enforced it at every turn. It was the only way she had to stay connected to the people she loved. It wasn't a preference. It was survival.

You also asked why the mask wasn't deception, and I understand why that one is harder to grasp. This is the question that trips up a lot of partners, so I want to be very clear.

Deception is when someone lies to take something from you - when the intent is to mislead you for their own gain at your expense. That is not what Cynthia did. She wasn't running a con. She wasn't hiding herself from you. She was hiding herself to survive. She didn't put on a mask to trick anyone - she wore it because the world had taught her that removing it was dangerous. The mask wasn't a lie. It was armor. And armor protects what matters.

The connection between you? Real. The love? Real. The laughter, the hard conversations, the years you built together - all of that was Cynthia. Not a character she invented to fool you. The mask was the outside - the name, the presentation, what the world demanded of her. It was never the heart underneath. You weren't deceived about who she was. You were seeing her through a filter that neither of you chose.

The heart behind the mask was always real. That's why what you loved about each other was real.

And when you asked what the mask was protecting - the answer is everything. Her safety, because being visibly trans can cost you your job, your family, your housing, your life. Her relationships, because she feared losing the people she loved most if they knew the truth. Her ability to function in a world that punishes difference.

The mask protected the part of her that was capable of bonding, of loving, of building a life with you. Without that protection, those parts of her might not have survived at all. The mask let her show up - imperfectly, incompletely - but show up nonetheless.

But Amy, there's something else I need you to hear. The mask was also protecting you. At least, that's how she understood it. Many trans people delay coming out not from selfishness, but from fear that the people they love most will be hurt or will leave.

The mask was Cynthia's way of holding the life together. Of trying to spare you this exact pain. Of being what she thought you needed her to be, for as long as she could bear it. It was never meant to harm you. It was meant to keep from losing you.

You're also touching on something important when you talk about Cynthia still learning who she is without the armor. When someone has lived behind walls for a long time, they don't step out fully formed. The mask didn't just hide her from others - it kept her from exploring and knowing parts of herself. Transition isn't only about revealing what was always there. It's also about finally being able to walk into rooms that were never safe to enter before.

Cynthia is discovering herself even now. That doesn't mean she was incomplete before. It means she was held back - compressed into a space too small to hold all of her. And what you're doing - creating space, offering safety, giving her ground to stand on - that isn't passive. You're not watching from the sidelines. You're walking alongside her as she becomes.

You said you're trying to get all the information you can so you can understand better. Good. That is exactly what you should be doing. Understanding isn't betrayal. Questions aren't doubt. You're not challenging Cynthia by asking these things - you're building a foundation you can actually stand on.

And I want you to notice something: the fact that you can ask these questions at all, that you can sit with them and work through them instead of shutting down or running away - that is you doing the work. That is you choosing to understand instead of just survive.

What you said about grief is important, and very true. You aren't letting go of the person you love. You're letting go of an outer form that once carried meaning because it was all that was visible. The heart you're connected to hasn't changed. If anything, it's more reachable now.

There will be moments ahead that feel uneven or uncertain. That doesn't mean anything is wrong. It just means two people are moving through something honest and real together.

You ended your message with something worth holding onto: "I will keep doing everything I am doing and keep being honest, courageous, and gracious."

Amy, that's not a wish. That's a declaration!

You aren't promising to have everything figured out. You're naming how you intend to show up - and that matters more than certainty ever could. Honesty, courage, and grace. Those three things will carry you through what knowing cannot.

The way you're doing this - asking instead of assuming, reaching toward understanding instead of pulling away - that's a gift to Cynthia. And it tells me something important about where you are now: you're starting to see that this isn't about loss. It's about truth finally having room to breathe.

And now you're both learning to breathe in that truth together. It's time to start learning how to move forward as one heart, one soul—letting nothing come between you.

With love,
— Susan 💜

[Pugs4life]

Dear Danielle,

Thank you so much for your post.  I will make sure I am being honest with Cynthia and being open with my feelings.  I know those two things are really important here. 

I will keep posting and sharing here.  I have found safety and wonderful guidance here.  I am so grateful to you all. 

With warmth,
Amy

[Pugs4life]

Dear Susan,

Thank you so much for helping me understand how Cynthia did not choose the role.  She was assigned that role at birth.  It was not something that she just decided to do. It was a role given to her from the moment she arrived.  The world gave her a script to live by.  And as a child, she learned that being herself could cost her love, belonging, and protection.  I can very much understand that children do not make choices under those circumstances.  The world can be a scary place for children as it is.  Cynthia learned to adapt.  When she was old enough to feel the mismatch between who she was inside and what everyone else insisted she was, the role of male had already been built around her like walls.  And at that time, stepping out of those walls carried great risk-rejection, ridicule, loss of love, and sometimes worse.  So she kept quiet about what she felt on the inside.

She continued to live inside the role of male.  Not because she wanted to, but because she felt like she had to?  The refusal to live as male felt unsurvivable?  And has felt unsurvivable all this time? As an adult, she continued to live inside the role of male because the risk was just still too high for her?

Yeah, the mask not being deception is harder to grasp for me.  This question of why the mask isn't deception has been tripping me up.  I can now see from your definition of deception that that is not what Cynthia did.  It wasn't deception at all.  It is hard to see that Cynthia wasn't hiding herself from me though. She didn't tell me when we met about her longing to be female.  The question lurking in the back of my mind is "why didn't she tell me then?".  Is it because the role of male was still a survival tactic because the world was still telling her that it was wrong and shameful to feel the way that she did?  She didn't feel safe enough yet to tell me?  She didn't really understand herself yet what was going on?  She was just protecting herself still?  So that's why she stayed quiet and let me think that I fell in love with a male? 

The connection that happened between us was real regardless of who I thought the connection was with?  Because the connection happened with the person on the inside of the mask?  I just didn't know who that person was until recently?  The love was real because Cynthia has been real and present on the inside the whole time?  I was only seeing the mask not the person she was underneath that mask?  How wasn't I deceived about who she was though?  I thought I was falling in love with a male and didn't find out until recently otherwise. I am sorry, it's just not clicking yet for me and I want to fully understand.   

I understand that the heart behind the mask was real. Our hearts connected and found each other and that part was real. I am just stuck on the fact that I was under the impression that heart was a male and it wasn't a male.  It was a female.  That kind of feels like I got tricked.

It makes sense that the mask was protecting her safety because being trans in this world can cost her her job, her family, her housing, her life, and her relationships.  She is able to function in this world under the mask?  Under that disguise of male?  I am a little fuzzy on the part that the mask protected the part of her that was capable of bonding, of loving, of building a life with me.  The mask protected her heart from closing down completely? The mask let Cynthia show up but I just didn't realize that it was Cynthia there on the inside?  At least, not until recently?

I did not realize that the mask was protecting me too.  That is so selfless.  That she would want to protect me from hurt.  That melts my heart.  I will try to remember that the mask was Cynthia's way of holding life together; of trying to spare me this exact pain that I am going through.  That the mask was never meant to harm me.  It was to keep from losing me.  That all makes sense. 

I will remember that Cynthia is just getting to know herself as well.  I need to recognize that she didn't step out from her walls fully formed.  There are parts of herself she doesn't even know yet.  And I get to be there with her as she explores herself more fully.  That is truly an honor. 

I don't mean for my questions to be doubt or mean for them to be challenging Cynthia.  I am just trying to understand everything as best as I can.  I want to understand to move through this so I can be there for Cynthia for what she needs. 

I will also try to remember that I am not letting go of the person that I love.  That person is still there and present.  I am just letting go of the outer shell that I knew as familiar and safe because it was all that was visible to me.  I really like how you said the heart I connected to hasn't changed.  If anything, it has become more reachable.  I need to recognize that. 

I am feeling a little uncertain at the moment.  It is good to know that doesn't mean anything is wrong.  It just means the two of us are working through something honest and real together.  I like that we are doing this together.  We are both learning to breathe in this new truth together.  How do we learn to move forward as one heart and one soul?  It's something we will learn as we go? 

With much love,
Amy

 

 

[Susan ✅]

Dear Amy,

You asked a question that deserves to be taken seriously: how is this not deception? You believed you fell in love with a man, and you've recently learned otherwise. Of course that can feel like being tricked. I don't want to brush past that feeling. I want to sit with it and try to untangle it with you.

There's a chart that shows the history of left-handedness in America. For decades, the numbers are almost flat—just a few percent. Then, starting around the 1920s, the line rises, eventually settling around 10–12%, where it still is today.

Those left-handed people didn't suddenly appear. They were always there. What changed was punishment. For generations, children who naturally reached for a pencil with their left hand were shamed, corrected, and sometimes even physically restrained and forced to write with their right.

That low point on the chart doesn't mean left-handed people didn't exist. It means they were being suppressed. The rise didn't signal a trend or a fad. It shows what happens when people stop being punished for something that was always part of them—something they never chose.

Those children weren't being deceptive. They were surviving. Writing with their right hand didn't become natural or easy just because they were forced to do it. They complied at real personal cost—anxiety, stutters, learning struggles—because being themselves wasn't allowed. The hand they used wasn't a statement about who they were. It was an unwanted adaptation imposed by a world that refused to meet them where they were.

If you had met one of those children and watched them write with their right hand, you wouldn't think they were lying to you. You would recognize that they were doing what they had to do to get through the day.

Cynthia's situation isn't identical, but the principle is the same. She didn't choose to be transgender any more than a child chooses their dominant hand. And she didn't choose the role of male—it was assigned to her at birth and reinforced by a world that taught her, again and again, that anything else was dangerous, shameful, or impossible.

Living as male wasn't a comfortable disguise. It was constant, exhausting, invisible labor against her own nature.

Deception requires intent—choosing to mislead for personal gain. Cynthia didn't gain anything by hiding. She lost years of peace. She didn't stay silent to trick you into loving her. She stayed silent because the world had taught her that her truth was not survivable.

You fell in love with the person doing that labor—not with the labor itself. The male presentation was the work. Cynthia—her heart, her humor, her presence, the way she made you feel truly known—was the worker. The connection you felt wasn't an illusion. It was real, because it was always her reaching toward you in the only way she knew how.

I also want to be clear about something important. Cynthia didn't wait for your permission to become herself. This wasn't a door you unlocked. She reached a point where she simply could not carry the mask any longer—where the weight of continuing became heavier than the fear of stopping. That moment was coming no matter what, because she had already carried it as long as a human being can.

What you gave her, without knowing it, was something else entirely: a place she believed might be safe to land. When she couldn't hold herself together anymore, she trusted that you wouldn't leave her alone in pieces. That wasn't you granting permission. That was her trusting the strength of your love.

The person you fell in love with is still here. She isn't gone or replaced. She's simply no longer spending every ounce of energy keeping walls between you. If anything, you're closer to her now than you ever were before—because now there's nothing standing in the way.

I'll share one small personal note, only because it may help anchor this. I was one of those left-handed children in the 1970s, forced to adapt in ways that were painful and confusing—on top of being transgender in a world that had no language or safety for that either. None of it was chosen. All of it was survival. And none of it meant I wasn't always myself underneath. And I still absolutely detest writing by hand, even today! I much prefer typing

With love,
— Susan 💜

[Pugs4life]

Dear Susan,

Thank you for sitting with my question of how can it not be deception and my feeling of being tricked and helping me try to untangle it. 

The chart on the history of left-handedness is really interesting. So is the information you provided me about that chart.  I never realized that children used to be punished for being left-handed or forced to write with their right hand.  My son is left-handed.  I can't imagine him going through something like that just because his dominant hand is left. 

I can really understand that Cynthia did not choose to be transgender any more than a child can choose their dominant hand.  I also understand that she didn't choose the male role; it was assigned to her at birth and was constantly reinforced by a world that taught her being anything else was dangerous, shameful, and impossible.  I can't imagine how uncomfortable it must have been living as a male when it goes against your very nature.  It does have to exhausting and so difficult to do. 

What I still can't understand is how it wasn't deception.  You said that deception requires intent; choosing to mislead for personal gain.  I don't think Cynthia intended to deceive me at all. But I still feel deceived. She let me fall in love with her thinking that I was falling in love with a male.  She never told me about her longing to be female and just let me think that I was loving a male.  And that's not deception because she never intended it keep it from me?  She was just trying to survive at the time?  She felt that it wasn't safe to tell me?  Fear held her back from telling me?  I can understand how much Cynthia lost by staying hidden.  She lost years of peace and years being able to live as her authentic self.  But didn't she gain something by hiding too?  Didn't she gain me and our relationship by staying hidden? I am so confused Susan. 

Yes, I can see that I fell in love with the person doing the work and not with the labor itself.  I do understand that the connection I felt was real because it was always Cynthia there on the inside reaching toward me in the only way she knew how to. Cynthia has always been Cynthia.  I just didn't know until recently that Cynthia was the one that I made that connection with and Cynthia was the one that I actually fell in love with.  That's the part that makes me feel like I have been tricked because I was led to believe that I had made that connection with a male and fell in love with a male when I was actually connecting with and falling in love with a female.

Thank you for explaining how Cynthia reached a point where she just could not carry the mask any longer.  That storm just got too much for her to endure anymore.  Thank you,too, for explaining what it is that I gave Cynthia.  I didn't know what I had given her.  I am so thankful that she trusted the strength of our love. 

I understand the person I fell in love with is still here. That person was Cynthia and she is still here just as she was then.  She is just no longer keeping walls between us.  We are now closer than we have ever been because now there is nothing standing in the way of knowing who she truly is. 

Thank you for sharing more of your personal story with me.  I am so sorry you had to endure what you did by being a left-handed child and forced to adapt in ways that were painful and confusing.  And that's on top of being transgender in a world that had no language or safety for that.  I can't imagine how hard all of that must have been on you.  I can see that none of that was chosen and that is was all survival.  And that you were always yourself underneath.  Thank you again for sharing this with me. 

With much love,
Amy

[Susan ✅]

Amy,

You've articulated something profound here, and I want to honor the precision of your thinking because you've identified exactly where the knot is.

You wrote: "Didn't she gain something by hiding too? Didn't she gain me and our relationship by staying hidden?" This is the heart of it. And you deserve a real answer, not a deflection.

Yes. She did gain you. She gained your relationship. That's true.

But here's what I'd ask you to sit with: What was the alternative available to her at the time?

Not the alternative we might imagine now, in 2025, with language and visibility and support forums. The alternative then, in the world she actually inhabited, with the knowledge and safety she actually had access to.

The alternative was likely: never having love at all. Never have partnership. Never have you in her life.

Not because she chose to deceive, but because the world had constructed a situation where the authentic path didn't exist as a walkable road. It was like asking someone to take a highway that hadn't been built yet.

You're right that she gained something. But what she gained wasn't stolen from you through trickery. What she gained was love she desperately needed while carrying something she had no safe way to share. She gained you by being as much of herself as she knew how to be, as much as she had words for, as much as the world would allow her to be.

Here's another way to think about it:

Imagine someone who grew up in a family where showing vulnerability was punished. They learned to hide their fear, their sadness, their need. They become an adult who seems strong and steady. You fall in love with their steadiness.

Years later, they finally feel safe enough with you to show you their fear, their grief, their vulnerability. They weep in front of you for the first time.

Would you say they deceived you by seeming strong? That they tricked you into loving someone who was secretly afraid?

Or would you say they survived until they found someone safe enough to be fully known by?

The steadiness was real. It was them, coping. The vulnerability was also real. It was them, underneath. You loved a whole person who could only show you parts of themselves until they couldn't carry the hidden parts alone anymore.

What makes Cynthia's situation feel different, I think, is that gender feels so fundamental. It's not like hiding a fear or a childhood wound. It's a category shift in how we understand someone.

But I want to gently offer: Is it, though?

What actually changed? Her pronouns. Her name. Her appearance, probably, over time. Her ability to stop performing a role that was crushing her.

What didn't change? The person who made you laugh. The person who listened. The person whose mind works the way it works. The person who chose you and keeps choosing you. The person you built a life with.

You said it yourself: "Cynthia has always been Cynthia. I just didn't know until recently that Cynthia was the one that I made that connection with."

Yes. Exactly. You knew her. You just didn't have her right name yet.

I want to acknowledge something else. The feeling of being tricked is real, even if the intent to trick wasn't there. Your feeling is valid. It exists. It matters. You don't have to argue yourself out of it.

But feelings and facts can coexist without one negating the other. You can feel deceived and understand that no deception was intended. You can grieve the husband you thought you had and discover you love the wife who was always there. You can be angry about what you weren't told and have compassion for why she couldn't tell you.

These contradictions are allowed to exist in you at the same time. That's not confusion—that's complexity. That's being human and grappling with something genuinely hard.

I'm moved by how carefully you're thinking through this. You're not just accepting easy answers. You're doing the real work of understanding, and that takes courage.

Cynthia is lucky to have someone who fights this hard to understand her. And you're doing something beautiful for yourself, too—you're refusing to let confusion calcify into resentment. You're insisting on clarity. That's how people come through things like this with their love intact.

Before I finish I need to pose a simple question, could you truly say you would have been happier never having had Cynthia in your life?

With deep respect for the work you're doing,
— Susan 💜