Transgender Exposure Therapy and My Wife’s Caring Plan

Five months into gender therapy, things are starting to feel real. My therapist has confirmed what I already knew deep down: that I’m transgender. So now, it’s less about figuring out who I am and more about how to actually live as that person. That’s where exposure therapy comes in. A slow, intentional way to integrate my identity into daily life without overwhelming anyone.

Of course, that’s where it gets complicated. I’m married. We have kids. And authenticity doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It affects everyone around me.

Even so, my wife has been incredible through this whole process. She’s trying, learning, and showing up with so much heart. Recently, we’ve started talking about how to bring Michelle into our everyday life in a way that feels safe for both of us.

The “Exposure Therapy” Idea

It was actually her phrase: “transgender exposure therapy.” She said it half-jokingly, but it stuck. The idea is simple. A gradual exposure to reduce anxiety and normalize the experience.

Before, I’d dress one night a week when she was out of the house. Now, though, we’re shifting things. The new plan is every night after the kids are asleep, plus any time I’m working from home. It’s about consistency and comfort. A chance for both of us to live with Michelle instead of treating her like a secret.

And honestly, it makes sense. It’s safe, self-contained, and respectful of the boundaries we’ve built around family life. More importantly, it doesn’t put pressure on her or the kids. Instead, it lets us breathe a little more in this in-between space.

Finding Middle Ground

None of this was a demand or a sudden shift. Instead, it came from a lot of late-night talks, tears, and a shared desire to meet somewhere in the middle. She needed safety and structure; I needed space to exist. This is our way of doing both.

We even have little code phrases for it. Like “Michelle’s coming over tonight.” It sounds silly, but it’s actually sweet. It turns what could feel tense into something light, even affectionate.

During those evenings, she usually catches up on volunteer work while I tinker with my own passion project. Meanwhile, we’re both just us. Doing our own thing, sharing the same space, and finally relaxing without the tension of hiding.

Moving Forward

This isn’t the final destination. I still want to transition someday. But for now, this feels like a step in the right direction. We’re exploring what our life looks like when Michelle isn’t just a visitor.

It’s a slow, thoughtful kind of growth. The kind that doesn’t demand certainty but builds trust.

For now, that’s enough.