When you said in your Katherine Hepburn post that you wonder how many transmasculine people kept their identities close to their chest to be the wife or mother that they were supposed to be, I always think of my neighbor.
I live in an extremely Mormon community in rural Northern Utah. I came out as a trans man as a teenager, about 10 years ago. My neighborโ someone who I had always known as a traditional Mormon woman in her early 40s, a devout housewife, a mother of several children, a valued community member from a very important family in our area (her brother is literally the mayor of our town), and at most SLIGHTLY more reclusive and quiet than most of the bigshots in our communityโ quietly told me on their front porch one evening that they have always seen themself as a man.
They wistfully told me about their college years, where they were involved in the lesbian community, before in their early 20s realizing that it was โmoreโ than that. About how they only moved back home and got married after their college degree because the thought of being a disappointment to their family, and being disowned, felt impossible to cope with. So they got married to a man that they admit they donโt feel any ounce of attraction towards, and had several kids, and theyโre not quite the pride to their parents as their siblings (due to being slightly more reclusive, not really having friends to speak of that arenโt just church ladies that they work with, and, admittedly, always seeming a bit depressed to me). They said that they were proud of me for doing what I needed to do, though, and they were happy that my family at least wasnโt disowning me.
Nobody else in our community knows. Not their family, not their husband, not their kids, not the people they do church outreach with.
And whenever I read stories of forgotten trans men, I always think of them. Theyโre still alive! Theyโre still here! And nobody but me will probably ever know! And if I hadnโt come out in this tiny little community, Iโd never know either!
Idk. Sorry for the vent/rant. Thank you for listening. It crushes me to be the only one who knows them as a man, sometimes.