I hope you don't mind comments, and others sharing.
The bit about having one outfit while vicariously shopping for the wife, whooooah does that ever hit, haha.
Looking back, I can't help but be struck at just how... neutral I tried to be. How I fought so hard to blend in as male, to be as nondescript as possible, to be the most safely generic male possible so that no one would notice how different I was. And I accepted that as normal!
And you know, it worked. But there was always that part of me hiding, that part of me that - as Mae says - you can't share because then everyone will know how WEIRD you are. I think the real start of my journey was my divorce, because my ex-wife couldn't handle that part of me, and at the very least, I needed my partner to accept it. I made sure that was the case with my next partner (now married), and that really allowed things to flow.
That said, I still didn't have the thunderstrike moment until this summer, and you're right... once you name it, once you know... you can't go back. As much as I do like the safety of my extremely neutral masculine life, I know it's not true. You can't unsee what you've seen, can't unknow what you've come to know. Once the black box is open, even if you close it, you still know the truths inside.
This is me, too, although without the panic response, thankfully. I was reading the comic in real time, getting one page a day and processing it, and very quickly hitting the stage where I couldn't wait for the next. By the time Mae woke up from the dream, I was having my own sleepless nights, and finally at 5am on day noticed my wife stirring and told her "I need to tell you something..."
And so much with the wardrobe. Two pairs of plain jeans for winter and two pairs of cargo shorts for summer. Ten or so shirts in an even mix between solid color pocket-T shirts and collared polo-style. Always jealous that girls got such interesting clothes and men got nothing. (Occasionally I would see a man in something interesting and very quickly block it from my mind because clearly I couldn't wear what he was wearing. Why? Not sure ...) My wife hates clothes shopping but occasionally would be forced to buy new clothes and I would excitedly accompany her so I could help pick things out and give opinions as she tried them on. It's as if I didn't know the word "vicarious" :-)
I never liked "Real Man (tm)" stuff, and thankfully my wife appreciated that fact. She would proudly tell her friends how awesome it was to have married someone who wasn't a "Real Man (tm)", and it made my happy for her to do it.
And all of that is to say "Thank you for sharing". I look forward to reading your story because every trans woman's story I read helps me to articulate mine better.
Aug 6, 2023·edited Aug 6, 2023Liked by Doc Impossible
I revisited this post tonight to re-read Mae's comic in light of everything that has changed in the last... three days! It's hard to believe it's only been three days since I started to realize that my chosen identity of "pretty much male" was barely dipping my toe in the ocean, and wasn't fair to the anxious girl who's knocking on the inside of my brain, wanting to come out more.
I thought I had come to a point of equilibrium earlier when I commented on another post about my course of action, but I've realized that my egg hasn't quite burst open yet; it's cracked pretty seriously, but I haven't managed to loosen my grip enough to let it hatch. Sorry, geobeckie, it's not quite time yet. But I've signed up for a trans support group in the city, and I'm going to ask my doctor for a referral to... I'm not sure who. I have a lot of information I still need to absorb.
There's one thing that struck me about the last panel of the comic this time. The final panels, where Greg fades away, leaving Mae by herself, feel very sad, and give me a feeling of lonliness. The way I imagine myself in that comic, the hug would result in a merging of the two personas: masculine and feminine, together as one complete being.* In three days I've gone from being "pretty much male" to feeling a happy glow when I think of myself as nonbinary.
I can only imagine where I'll be in three weeks. Or three months...
*Edit: After writing this, I realized that the phrasing in my last paragraph might not clearly express what I want it to. I don't mean that an identity that's only masculine or only feminine is incomplete, but that my identity needs that combination to be complete for me.
Oh goodness there’s so much here that’s so relatable.
When my wife was pregnant with our first child I remember reading the advice to give the baby a name I’d want to have. I effortlessly made a list two dozen lines long of feminine names I’d love to have, and came up with about three masculine names I felt meh about. My name is from that first list.
That same thing with clothes, just not caring about how I looked or what was on me.
That same feeling that I couldn’t possibly be trans because I didn’t already feel female. That the curiosity that ached and pained me was something so weird and shameful that I had to make sure no one would see it.
I remember that same wild energy that pulsed in me when my egg cracked. I felt like I’d been asleep for years and was suddenly wide awake. I don’t know why but I didn’t really feel the panic part, not at first at least. I was just so overjoyed that I might really, finally, be able to do something that I had this overwhelming feeling that things would work out somehow. Which might have been a bit naive in retrospect.
When I started talking to a trans acquaintance for the first time after my egg cracked, sussing out whether I was having some sort of real moment of insight or going cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, she commented that our stories weren’t the same, but they rhymed. It’s wonderful reading stories like yours and realizing how much we have in common in the trans community, even as the details are unique for everyone. It helps me feel like I really do belong here.
And honestly, I cry every time I read it. Beccause it's almost word for word identical to the conversations I had with myself trying to convince myself that door was closed forever. That my first attempt to transition in my 20s was over and done with. That I had dealt with my own dysphoria.
He tried so hard to protect me. To keep me safe. To love me like he could never have loved himself. It was his time to rest, his time to be protected. He finally got up enough courage to open a door he thought was closed for good, and I walked through it.
Thank you for sharing your story and making a place for others to share and find "rhyming" themes to our own stories. My already fractured egg really broke at the end of December. Not from a comic, but after a lot of deep introspection. And a dream. And a really supportive partner. Though I didn't think of it this way, the dream led me to meet my ID, ego and super ego. I got to feel the euphoria and vitalility of meeting and allowing myself to experience myself as my core femme self. A very resonant experience with the comic narrative. I have been working through those revelations since then and figuring out how to integrate them while living in a world that can be so harsh to trans femmes. Feminine clothing came much sooner for me than for Greg - good old thrift stores!
It has been really good to find your substack and this comic. The moment in the library when Greg and Mae hugged and Greg faded really got me. And the way that you describe your egg breaking open. And other people sharing in the comments. So very appreciated and helpful as I struggle to stay in touch with the sense of self I so euphorically discovered, which feels often at odds with my desire to stay safe and not be isolated again as a "weird one". I find courage in hearing from you all!
I had a similar mind-blowing experience. But instead of a webcomic, it happened after several months of watching youtube videos by various trans men and trans women. And instead of the experience happening at bedtime, it was in the middle of a Sunday in April, 2020. I remember the explosion of realization going off in my head. I remember confusion, fear and a kind of panic being the predominant feelings during the next couple of months. After two months, I had built up the nerve to tell my wife of 35 years. We have managed to stay together.
I first saw Real Life Comics a year or so ago, and it definitely hit home.
Oh yes! Abigail Thorn's coming out video was quite impressive, not to mention dramatic.
I forgot to mention in my comment that the thing about the jeans and t-shirt wardrobe was spot-on with me also. I've seen other trans women say the same thing. It's like the least fashionable outfit we can find to cover up the body we don't feel confortable in.
That was my intro to RLC too. My egg was freshly cracked but any remaining fragments were vaporized. I recall curling up in a ball and sobbing. God bless Mae.
It took me 30yrs, with a number of almosts, to admit I was not actually a woman. I was lucky to have a good friend group, whom I corralled around me prior to coming out publicly. This was beautiful, and has my heart going again. Thank you 💜🏳️⚧️ l
I hope you don't mind comments, and others sharing.
The bit about having one outfit while vicariously shopping for the wife, whooooah does that ever hit, haha.
Looking back, I can't help but be struck at just how... neutral I tried to be. How I fought so hard to blend in as male, to be as nondescript as possible, to be the most safely generic male possible so that no one would notice how different I was. And I accepted that as normal!
And you know, it worked. But there was always that part of me hiding, that part of me that - as Mae says - you can't share because then everyone will know how WEIRD you are. I think the real start of my journey was my divorce, because my ex-wife couldn't handle that part of me, and at the very least, I needed my partner to accept it. I made sure that was the case with my next partner (now married), and that really allowed things to flow.
That said, I still didn't have the thunderstrike moment until this summer, and you're right... once you name it, once you know... you can't go back. As much as I do like the safety of my extremely neutral masculine life, I know it's not true. You can't unsee what you've seen, can't unknow what you've come to know. Once the black box is open, even if you close it, you still know the truths inside.
The comments section is here for a reason! And I'm very flattered that people want to share. =)
This is me, too, although without the panic response, thankfully. I was reading the comic in real time, getting one page a day and processing it, and very quickly hitting the stage where I couldn't wait for the next. By the time Mae woke up from the dream, I was having my own sleepless nights, and finally at 5am on day noticed my wife stirring and told her "I need to tell you something..."
And so much with the wardrobe. Two pairs of plain jeans for winter and two pairs of cargo shorts for summer. Ten or so shirts in an even mix between solid color pocket-T shirts and collared polo-style. Always jealous that girls got such interesting clothes and men got nothing. (Occasionally I would see a man in something interesting and very quickly block it from my mind because clearly I couldn't wear what he was wearing. Why? Not sure ...) My wife hates clothes shopping but occasionally would be forced to buy new clothes and I would excitedly accompany her so I could help pick things out and give opinions as she tried them on. It's as if I didn't know the word "vicarious" :-)
I never liked "Real Man (tm)" stuff, and thankfully my wife appreciated that fact. She would proudly tell her friends how awesome it was to have married someone who wasn't a "Real Man (tm)", and it made my happy for her to do it.
And all of that is to say "Thank you for sharing". I look forward to reading your story because every trans woman's story I read helps me to articulate mine better.
My wife has been wonderful through everything, too. This whole time was such a whirlwind. She was really my rock.
I revisited this post tonight to re-read Mae's comic in light of everything that has changed in the last... three days! It's hard to believe it's only been three days since I started to realize that my chosen identity of "pretty much male" was barely dipping my toe in the ocean, and wasn't fair to the anxious girl who's knocking on the inside of my brain, wanting to come out more.
I thought I had come to a point of equilibrium earlier when I commented on another post about my course of action, but I've realized that my egg hasn't quite burst open yet; it's cracked pretty seriously, but I haven't managed to loosen my grip enough to let it hatch. Sorry, geobeckie, it's not quite time yet. But I've signed up for a trans support group in the city, and I'm going to ask my doctor for a referral to... I'm not sure who. I have a lot of information I still need to absorb.
There's one thing that struck me about the last panel of the comic this time. The final panels, where Greg fades away, leaving Mae by herself, feel very sad, and give me a feeling of lonliness. The way I imagine myself in that comic, the hug would result in a merging of the two personas: masculine and feminine, together as one complete being.* In three days I've gone from being "pretty much male" to feeling a happy glow when I think of myself as nonbinary.
I can only imagine where I'll be in three weeks. Or three months...
*Edit: After writing this, I realized that the phrasing in my last paragraph might not clearly express what I want it to. I don't mean that an identity that's only masculine or only feminine is incomplete, but that my identity needs that combination to be complete for me.
This is lovely. Congratulations, hun!
Oh goodness there’s so much here that’s so relatable.
When my wife was pregnant with our first child I remember reading the advice to give the baby a name I’d want to have. I effortlessly made a list two dozen lines long of feminine names I’d love to have, and came up with about three masculine names I felt meh about. My name is from that first list.
That same thing with clothes, just not caring about how I looked or what was on me.
That same feeling that I couldn’t possibly be trans because I didn’t already feel female. That the curiosity that ached and pained me was something so weird and shameful that I had to make sure no one would see it.
I remember that same wild energy that pulsed in me when my egg cracked. I felt like I’d been asleep for years and was suddenly wide awake. I don’t know why but I didn’t really feel the panic part, not at first at least. I was just so overjoyed that I might really, finally, be able to do something that I had this overwhelming feeling that things would work out somehow. Which might have been a bit naive in retrospect.
When I started talking to a trans acquaintance for the first time after my egg cracked, sussing out whether I was having some sort of real moment of insight or going cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, she commented that our stories weren’t the same, but they rhymed. It’s wonderful reading stories like yours and realizing how much we have in common in the trans community, even as the details are unique for everyone. It helps me feel like I really do belong here.
I'm so glad--that's the point!
Reliving my first read of these comics while reading this is wonderful way to spend some time on TDoR.
I found that comic AFTER my egg cracked.
And honestly, I cry every time I read it. Beccause it's almost word for word identical to the conversations I had with myself trying to convince myself that door was closed forever. That my first attempt to transition in my 20s was over and done with. That I had dealt with my own dysphoria.
He tried so hard to protect me. To keep me safe. To love me like he could never have loved himself. It was his time to rest, his time to be protected. He finally got up enough courage to open a door he thought was closed for good, and I walked through it.
Thank you for sharing.
I loved this so much, I had tears by the time I reached the end. I can't wait to read the next installments.
Thank you for sharing your story and making a place for others to share and find "rhyming" themes to our own stories. My already fractured egg really broke at the end of December. Not from a comic, but after a lot of deep introspection. And a dream. And a really supportive partner. Though I didn't think of it this way, the dream led me to meet my ID, ego and super ego. I got to feel the euphoria and vitalility of meeting and allowing myself to experience myself as my core femme self. A very resonant experience with the comic narrative. I have been working through those revelations since then and figuring out how to integrate them while living in a world that can be so harsh to trans femmes. Feminine clothing came much sooner for me than for Greg - good old thrift stores!
It has been really good to find your substack and this comic. The moment in the library when Greg and Mae hugged and Greg faded really got me. And the way that you describe your egg breaking open. And other people sharing in the comments. So very appreciated and helpful as I struggle to stay in touch with the sense of self I so euphorically discovered, which feels often at odds with my desire to stay safe and not be isolated again as a "weird one". I find courage in hearing from you all!
Congratulations!!
I had a similar mind-blowing experience. But instead of a webcomic, it happened after several months of watching youtube videos by various trans men and trans women. And instead of the experience happening at bedtime, it was in the middle of a Sunday in April, 2020. I remember the explosion of realization going off in my head. I remember confusion, fear and a kind of panic being the predominant feelings during the next couple of months. After two months, I had built up the nerve to tell my wife of 35 years. We have managed to stay together.
I first saw Real Life Comics a year or so ago, and it definitely hit home.
That's wonderful to hear (about you and your wife)! And yeah, if Mae hadn't got me, Abigail Thorn's coming out video definitely would've.
Oh yes! Abigail Thorn's coming out video was quite impressive, not to mention dramatic.
I forgot to mention in my comment that the thing about the jeans and t-shirt wardrobe was spot-on with me also. I've seen other trans women say the same thing. It's like the least fashionable outfit we can find to cover up the body we don't feel confortable in.
That was my intro to RLC too. My egg was freshly cracked but any remaining fragments were vaporized. I recall curling up in a ball and sobbing. God bless Mae.
It took me 30yrs, with a number of almosts, to admit I was not actually a woman. I was lucky to have a good friend group, whom I corralled around me prior to coming out publicly. This was beautiful, and has my heart going again. Thank you 💜🏳️⚧️ l
Just wait till I get to the parts where I have *big* panic attacks. XD
...I... can't wait...? 😆
Looking forward to it since I went through a slew of those this month, although I think I'm finally settling in thankfully.