Pugs4life - New here: my husband just came out to me as transgender

[Pugs4life]

Dear Danielle,

Thank you very much for your understanding why I would be experiencing uneasiness regarding the big changes that are about to take place in Cynthia's transition journey.  I am wondering how it will proceed and turn out for her and for me too. 

Yes, I am planning on going with Cynthia to her consultation appointment.  I think you are right-it may give me some reassurance knowing ore about her surgery plan and procedures.  So much is unknown for me right now. 

We are still both going to therapy. I will be sure to discuss these things and how I am feeling with my therapist at my next appointment. 

Thank you so much for rooting for our success and happiness as a couple. That really means alot.  You are correct-the impending surgery and other procedures is all a work in progress that will take some time to settle into. 

Thank you so much for your care and presence here Danielle.  It means so much to me. 

With love,
Amy

[Northern Star Girl ✅]

 @Pugs4life
Dear Amy:
I have now moved your thread to the Forum's
new Blog sub-forum  "Our Journeys"

"Our Journeys" is a place for Transition specific blogs.
Members can request staff assistance to move their qualifying
blog posts to the "Our Journeys" sub forum.
 
    Susan's Place Transgender Resources ► Blogs ► Our Journeys

Along with your avid Readers and Followers I am eager to read your
continuing story as you feel comfortable sharing.

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

[Susan ✅]

Amy,

Thank you for such a thoughtful, honest response. I want you to know first and foremost that I hear how hard this is for you right now. Nothing you wrote sounds wrong, selfish, or inadequate. It sounds like someone who is overwhelmed, scared, and still choosing to stay present anyway—and that matters more than you may realize.

I'm really glad you're continuing with therapy and that you already have your next appointment scheduled. The fact that you named this as "heavy to carry" is important, because it is. You're being asked to emotionally reorient yourself while also trying to hold onto a sense of stability, and that's not something anyone does effortlessly. Therapy isn't about fixing your feelings or making them disappear; it's about giving you room to have them without becoming stuck inside them. You deserve that support just as much as Cynthia does.

I want to gently reflect something back to you. You used the words "try" and "trying" several times in your post. I hear that not as uncertainty or weakness, but as effort. You're repeatedly choosing to stay present even when your nervous system is telling you to pull back. You're overriding fear responses to remain engaged in the relationship and in this process. That isn't small. That's real work, and it costs energy. "Trying" here doesn't mean you're failing—it means you're actively engaging with something difficult.

You've said more than once that you don't feel ready. I want to be very clear about something important: readiness is not a prerequisite for care, truth, or change to exist. Most people don't feel ready before something like this unfolds. Readiness usually comes later, shaped by lived experience rather than arriving as a feeling of confidence in advance. You are not failing because you don't feel ready. You are responding normally to something that challenges your sense of safety and continuity.

When you say you don't want anything to change, that tells me you're grieving—not just future fears, but the comfort of what felt known and stable. That grief doesn't mean you don't love Cynthia or support her. It means you're human. Something foundational feels uncertain right now, and that deserves acknowledgment, not guilt.

I'm really glad you noticed how your fear is being pulled forward into the future rather than anchored in the present. That insight matters. Right now, what is actually happening is still relatively contained: conversations, therapy, information gathering, small physical changes, community connections. None of this requires you to have everything figured out today. You are allowed to take this one step, one feeling, one conversation at a time.

About the surgical consultation specifically: it makes sense that it feels like such a big step. What often happens in moments like this is that the mind collapses the timeline—consultation becomes a stand-in for everything that might come later. But a consultation is a conversation. No decisions are made, no commitments are locked in, no dates are set. It's information gathering, not a point of no return. Even if Cynthia eventually decides surgery is right for her, there are clear medical timelines and requirements that place that well down the road. This isn't next month, and it isn't even imminent. That time isn't about whether this will happen—it's time for you to find your footing as the changes unfold.

It's okay that you don't feel emotionally ready for that step yet. Letting it happen doesn't mean you're endorsing an outcome you can't imagine. It simply allows information to exist, and information tends to reduce fear over time rather than increase it.

You also named something important when you said things feel like they're moving too fast, even though you know logically that they may not be. That tells me you're already holding two truths at once: the objective pace, and your subjective experience of overwhelm. Both are real. Neither cancels out the other. This is a really good place to work with your therapist—especially around the gap between what you know intellectually and what you feel emotionally.

When you go to therapy on February 4th, it may help to bring that tension with you—how to work with the gap between knowing and feeling, how to sit with fear about pacing without needing to control it, and how to hold space for your own feelings without turning them into a problem. Those are exactly the kinds of things therapy is meant to support.

I'm glad you're staying in communication with Cynthia and that you're being honest about struggling while still showing up. That combination—honesty without withdrawal—is the most important thing happening here. You don't have to feel strong. You don't have to feel settled. You just have to keep bringing your fear into the open where it can be talked about instead of silently driving everything.

One last thing I want to reinforce: Cynthia's medical care can move forward on its own timeline while your emotional processing continues on yours. These don't have to be synchronized for both to be valid. Neither has to wait for the other to be "finished" before it's allowed to continue.

This is hard right now. I won't minimize that. But hard does not mean impossible, and it does not mean you're doing this wrong. Keep using your support systems. Keep naming what you're feeling. Keep taking this in pieces rather than as one overwhelming whole.

You are already showing up. That matters. And I'm here with you.

With care, 
— Susan 💜

[Pugs4life]

Dear Susan,

Thank you for hearing how hard this is for me right now.  I do feel scared and overwhelmed.  I need to try to remember when overwhelm hits, to pause and ground myself.  It is my goal to keep choosing to stay present even with the things that I am feeling.  I really am trying to put forth my best effort.  Thank you for pointing out that trying does not mean I am failing but that I am actively engaging with something difficult. 

It is good to hear that it is also not failing because I don't feel ready yet.  I needed to know that I am responding normally to something that challenges my sense of safety and continuity.  The steps that Cynthia wants to take to move forward are real reminders that this isn't theoretical anymore.  It suddenly makes the future very close and very real. 

I had lost sight of the fact that I could still be grieving.  I am grieving the comfort of what felt known and stable.  Grieving the familiar form of my spouse, the plans I had pictured, and for the visual cues that used to signal "home" to my nervous system.  I am also grieving the shape of the future I had expected, the familiar version of Cynthia that I have known, and the life that I imagined for the two of us. 

I really appreciate you helping me to see that my fear is being pulled forward into the future rather than being anchored in the present.  When fear rises, I need to remember to ask myself "Is this something happening now, or is this an old hurt trying to predict the future?".  Thank you as well for helping me to see that what is actually happening right now is relatively contained.  I don't have to have everything figured out today.  I really needed to know that is okay to take this one step at at time, one feeling at a time, and one conversation at a time.  Small steps are the way through. 

It does help to know that consultation is a conversation.  It is information gathering and not a point of no return.  I will try to remember that this is something that will happen down the road and not next month.  I do need to find my footing as the changes unfold. 

I will make sure that I mention to my therapist about the gap between what I  know intellectually and what I feel emotionally.  I have a list of things to go over with the therapist at my next appointment.  I will make sure to put everything on my list that you  mentioned. 

Thank you for showing me that honesty without withdrawal is an important thing happening.  I can certainly try to keep bringing my fear out into the open where it can be talked about instead of silently driving everything. 

I will remember that Cynthia's medical care can move forward on its own timeline and my emotional processing can also continue on my timeline.  Both can be valid.  Cynthia and I are staring at different emotional places.  She is stepping into freedom and I am stepping into unexpected change. 

You are absolutely right-hard does not mean impossible.  That is something important I need to tell myself.  Even though it is hard for me right now, it can be doable.  I will keep using my support systems, keep naming what I am feeling, and try to remember to take this in pieces rather than as one overwhelming whole.  I forget that one bite at at a time is how overwhelming things become survivable. 

I will continue to keep showing because that matters.  I am so grateful that you and everyone here is here with me. 

With love,
Amy

[Susan ✅]

Amy,

I want to point something out, because I don't want you to miss it.

Three months ago, you wrote: *"I don't even know how to begin to process this."*

Today, you just gave yourself this tool: *"When fear rises, I need to remember to ask myself, 'Is this something happening now, or is this an old hurt trying to predict the future?'"*

Do you see what you did there? You took everything we've talked about—grounding in the present, separating fear from reality, giving one thought your full attention—and you built yourself a *real coping tool*. One that actually works when your nervous system is firing and everything feels overwhelming.

And you didn't stop there. Look at what else you're already using:

• "Small steps are the way through. One step at a time, one feeling at a time, one conversation at a time."
• What is the next small, kind thing I can do today?"
• Anchoring new changes to things that haven't moved (her laugh, making coffee together, the ordinary constants)
• Understanding that consultation is information gathering, not a point of no return
• Recognizing that Cynthia's timeline and yours can both be valid without matching

Those aren't just phrases you're repeating back to me. Those are tools you've *picked up and made work* while still scared, still grieving, still unsure.

And then you wrote this: *"Cynthia and I are starting at different emotional places. She is stepping into freedom and I am stepping into unexpected change."*

Amy, that's clarity. You're holding two truths at once—her relief and your grief—without making either one wrong. That takes real strength.

The grief you named—the familiar form, the plans you pictured, the visual cues that used to signal "home"—you're not just feeling that. You're locating it. You're naming it. You're separating it from panic. That's the work.

I need you to hear this: having these tools doesn't mean the fear goes away. It doesn't mean you won't still get overwhelmed. It just means you have a way back when you do. Progress isn't about feeling settled every day—it's about finding your footing as the changes continue to unfold.

I've watched you move from *"I don't want anything to change"* to *"small steps are the way through."* From paralysis to movement. From *"I don't know if I can do this"* to *"hard does not mean impossible."* You're not passively receiving support—you're actively building capacity.

When you go to therapy on February 4th, bring this with you. Show your therapist not just what you're struggling with, but what you've built. The tools you're using. The clarity you're developing. The way you're staying present without demanding readiness from yourself. She'll see it.

You're not behind. You're not failing. You're doing something genuinely difficult with honesty and courage while Cynthia's transition moves forward on its own necessary timeline.

Keep bringing your fear into the open. Keep taking it one step, one feeling, one conversation at a time. Keep using what works.

You're doing this, Amy. Not perfectly. Not without pain. But you're doing it.

I'm here for both you and Cynthia!

With love and care, 
— Susan 💜