Edited to say:  I realize you have asked about "in denial" and not "closeted," and the issues are somewhat different.

I have told friends and family, although I have not (yet) told my adult son.  My closeted ex has told only three people--me, his sister, and a former student with whom he "explored" his transness for at least part of the three years he was doing so before he informed me--but he only told them/me because he was, at that time, egged on by the former student, intending on carrying through with "transition," which he later decided he would not do.  After that, he retreated back into the closet, which had the effect of trapping me in there also. (However, if he'd never told me, I never would have understood what was the problem in my marriage, and would have continued beating my head against the wall and blaming myself--so, now that it's all over, I'm at least grateful I'm not in that situation any longer. His disclosure gave me a way to understand his behavior.) 

For a year and a half, I did not tell anyone except one friend, who lives a thousand miles away, with the permission of my now ex, who thought because she was a lesbian she was "safe" and would take his side (he was mistaken, although I never told him that). I found living in my then husband's closet crazy-making, like living a lie, walking around every day carrying out all my usual tasks while knowing that no one had a clue what I was going through at home.  After a year and a half, I came on this board, and told one other friend, someone in my day to day life; I also found an online blog at that time by a woman who referred to herself as a "transwidow." Those were lifelines for me. 

I told my mother after I had decided to divorce my now ex, because I knew that after telling her I would have to carry through.  This was about nine months before I left.  She was supportive. 

Only after I left my then husband and began divorce proceedings, three years after his disclosure, did I begin to tell other of my friends.  I encountered a range of reactions.  Some people supported me and understood how awful the experience must have been; some did not understand and said some version of "how awful for him, having to hide."  I had one friend say he didn't believe it, which was incredibly hurtful, as it implied that I was telling lies about my ex, and that I was the kind of person who would do this.  I also told the rest of my immediate family at that time, and they were all supportive of me and of my decision to leave, although my sister, who has always disdained anything feminine and has always gravitated toward masculine pursuits, revealed her sympathy for my ex's desire to be the opposite sex.  I was surprised by some people's responses, and let down by a few of them.  

 I think getting a negative reaction upon initial disclosure, such as you had, MJM017, especially from someone in a support capacity, would be incredibly hurtful, and would have made me hesitate to tell anyone else--a "once bitten, twice shy" kind of reaction.  Some of the reactions I got, even late in the process, like the friend who said he didn't believe it (he later back pedalled and said what he meant was that he had a hard time believing it, given that there was no outward indication), were hurtful, but I have come far enough along in my healing to see that their reactions say more about them than about me. In general I would say that the responses I got told me a lot about whom I was going to trust and be close to going forward. 

  I find that my ex's closeted life, his presentation of a false facade, infuriates me.  He carries on in the workplace (we worked at the same place, and I took early retirement to get away from him) exactly as he always has, and no one has a clue that the thoughtful, rational, caring, feminist ally persona is a projection, like a hologram.  I even had a woman colleague who told me, when she discovered I was married to him, say, "Oh, you're so lucky."   My response to the unfairness, the injustice, the crazy making gaslighting of having to stay in his closet while he presents his lie to the world, has been to distance myself and try to leave it all behind.  It's the only way I can shield myself from the volcanic anger that prevents me from making a new and better life for myself.  I am currently living a thousand miles from "the scene of the (continuing) crime," so to speak, caring for my aging mother, and when I return home again, it will be only for the brief few months it will take for me to pack up and move away to a new home, where I hope to make a life of my own so bright that it dispels the shadow he cast over my life.  

In the future, I'll be open about my past to new friends, but I won't dwell on it.   I am going to live a transparently honest and open life.  He will continue to live a lie until he dies. 

Last edited by OutofHisCloset (December 22, 2019 5:17 pm)