Coming Out is Not Selfish

No matter how much it might feel that way.

Source image by Lisa Zins

Something I struggled with a lot in the early months after I realized I’m trans was with the idea that it would be selfish of me to come out and actually start transitioning. I had this belief–who knows where it came from–that my spouse and my family needed a “man” in it. That my kids needed me to be a good male role model. That my wife, who so far as I can tell is entirely heterosexual, hadn’t signed up for being married to a woman and that it would be unfair to do that to her.

I won’t deny that the thought of coming out at all was also scary as hell. The risk I perceived of losing everything–my wife, my kids, my job–was terrifying. So it was easy to lean on this idea of it being selfish as a reason not to do it. I held onto this idea that I had an obligation to continue to be what my family expected, and therefore it would be selfish to stop doing that, for a long time. It was easier to convince myself that this was what was best for them, even if it sucked for me, than to face the terror of coming out. And ultimately, I didn’t come out until my dysphoria got so bad that it was either come out or have a complete nervous breakdown.

And I know I’m not the only one who hears the siren call of selfishness. I’ve seen people on reddit (of course) posting their own struggles with wanting to come out but feeling like doing so would be merely selfish. I’ve heard people in a trans support group I attend talking about that too.

Lately I have come to realize that is actually not selfish at all to come out and start transitioning, and I’d like to explain why by considering the alternatives.

Source image by Wonderlane

Possible futures

I’ll use myself, my past-self, as an example: married with two kids and an objectively pretty good suburban cis/het-style life, but freshly egg-cracked. Realizing that I’d like to transition, that I’d be happier living as a woman, but scared to do so. And of course, feeling selfish for wanting that.

I’ve already explained what I did in that situation: talked myself out of doing anything. What I should have done was carefully evaluate the possible futures, only one of which includes doing nothing.

Future #1, “what I actually did”: I stay in the closet. My wife and I stay together by default. We're together, but I am miserable and become increasingly miserable with every passing year. Frustrated. Bitter at the world for having given me such a raw deal. I am emotionally numb and distant, because all my energy, all my capacity for anything is burnt to ash by the daily struggle just to hold together the man-shaped life I’ve built, but that I increasingly despise.

My wife knows something is wrong. But I won’t talk about it. I can’t talk about it, because talking about it would be the same as coming out and that feels unbearably selfish. I can only suffer in silence. I become grumpy, impatient, short-fused. I snap at my kids and my wife over the spilt-milk stupid shit that doesn’t matter, because I have no emotional reserves left. Dysphoria has hollowed me out, leaving only a brittle, man-shaped shell to go through the motions of my life. It’s a marriage, but it’s not a happy one. It’s a family, but it’s not a happy one. How can it be, with me as a dark, miserable cloud casting shadows over everything and them not understanding why?

Future #2, “the dream scenario”: I decide to come out anyway, and through some miracle my wife doesn’t leave me. Rather, she’s mortified that I’ve been suffering like this, and wants to make sure I do everything to make it stop. She decides to stick it out, that she loves me anyway and we’ll figure out how to make it work. I start transitioning. We're together, but I get to be happy too. I get to live how I want to. Be who I need to be. I don't have to fight dysphoria anymore. I’m not burning all my capacity in that fight anymore. So I get to open up, emotionally. Which is easy, because with the Big Secret out in the open, there’s nothing left to hide.

I get to re-connect with my emotions. Learn how to actually feel things. I can heal from the trauma of being an undiagnosed trans person for my whole life up to that point. I can re-engage with life, actually being present for the happy times and the sad times, experience those things emotionally rather than as dry biographical facts. I gain patience and tolerance, resilience against the stupid shit life throws at me. I’m able to properly support and guide my kids through their adolescent and teenage years. I get to be a whole person and experience what that feels like.

Future #3, “the mixed bag”: I come out, but while my wife comes to understand that this is something I truly need, while she supports me transitioning, she also decides that being with a woman doesn't work for her. And hey, that’s fair. She’s straight. She didn’t sign up for this. I understand. I don’t blame her. We talk it through and realize that it’s nobody’s fault. I didn’t know I was trans when we got married. We’re not sorry we got married. We both wanted to, we both wanted kids, and we love our kids and would never trade them for anything.

This is just the way the cookie is crumbling, and the best we can do is part on friendly terms, wishing each other well as we move forward on separate paths. She can look for a new partner—a cis partner—who can truly meet her needs in ways I can’t. I can look for a nice lesbian to settle down with. We can come up with a reasonable custody sharing arrangement for the years left until our kids are grown. It’s sad that it didn’t work out for us, and on some level we’ll always love each other, but at least this way we’re both moving forward towards happy and fulfilling lives.

Of course, there’s a whole spectrum of possible futures beyond these. They’ll change depending on whether you’re coming out to a spouse or a girlfriend or a parent. Future #3, in particular, has a lot of range on how civil or acrimonious it could be. I put forward these three because they are what I see as the main categories of what could happen. Adapt them to fit your life.

What’s best for everyone?

Had past-me, freshly egg-cracked, looked at those futures it would be obvious which one is best for me: The “have my cake and eat it too” of Future #2. But what’s best for everyone?

Well, again, Future #2 seems best. There’s no great disruption to anyone’s lives, and everybody ends up happier for it. Future #3 isn’t as good, but it’s not bad either. There’s more disruption and heartache, but at least in the end everyone gets to pursue their own happiness.

The thing is, when making the decision of whether to come out neither past-me nor present-you are able to actually pick which future we get. Futures #2 and #3 are both possible but come about as a consequence of other people’s feelings and choices. Not mine. My choice is between 1 and 2-or-3. Between closet and not-closet.

In which case something becomes immediately clear: Future #1 was the the worst one for my wife and for my kids.

Let me say that again: staying in the closet was the worst option for my family. It is blatantly worst for me, but it’s worst for them too, because really: if you were them, would you want to live with closeted-you? Does that sound like any fun? Or does it sound sad and stressful and traumatizing?

Staying in the closet meant signing up to play the role of “husband” while also being unable to be the best person for my family that they deserved.

Future #1 should be worst for you and your family, too. What’s best for your family is to have a spouse and a parent who is happy and healthy and well-adjusted. They don’t get that if you’re in the closet. Having you be happy is far more important than having you continue to pretend to be your birth-assigned gender.

Coming out is generous

Selfishness is choosing your benefit at the cost of other people's suffering. Look at those futures and it’s obvious that coming out is not that. Coming out is choosing for everyone to benefit. That’s not selfish. It’s generous.

Being in the position of choosing whether to come out of the closet is one of those rare, almost magical situations in life that feels like shit in the moment, but is actually a massive win/win for everybody. It will probably be the hardest thing you ever have to do. It will also be the best thing you probably ever do. It's just really hard to see that when you're in it.

20/20 hindsight

Which is honestly why I’m writing this post at all. After my egg cracked, I should have carefully considered the alternatives. Had I done so, the correct choice would have been obvious.

But the truth is, I wasn’t capable of envisioning those three futures back then. The only future I could envision at all from coming out was “doom and gloom for everyone.” That fear of losing everything clouded my vision with a specter that coming out would do nothing but ruin everyone’s lives. So of course I did nothing.

That strategy failed miserably. And while slowly failed, it was making everyone miserable. They didn’t deserve that. The siren song of selfishness led me to choosing the worst of the possible futures for me and for my family.

I have the hindsight now to see all three futures, and with it to see how I fucked up big-time and why I now have to do the work of repairing the damage I did to my relationships with my family. The lesson learned came at a very high personal cost. Not just my years of closeted suffering, but in the ways my family suffered too.

So I’m writing this in the hopes that other people find it and can learn from my mistakes. Maybe you don’t yet have that hindsight for yourself. In which case, please, borrow mine! For your own sake and the sake of your family, don’t choose #1. Don’t learn the same lesson the hard way. Don’t hide in the closet. It’s the worst option for everyone. What’s best for you is what’s best for your family. Being the happiest, healthiest, most fulfilled person you can be is how you become the best partner and the best parent you can be.

Everyone deserves happiness. Including you.

Past-me couldn’t see that. In hindsight, now that I’m in a much better place than I’ve ever been and my wife and I are in a better place than we’ve ever been and my kids are getting to know the real me, I can see that coming out was the best thing I could have done for all of us.