A textured, sharply written memoir about coming of age in the fourth decade of one’s life and embracing one's truest self in a world that demands gender fit in neat boxes
From the outside, Oliver Radclyffe spent four decades living an immensely privileged, beautifully composed life. As the daughter of two well-to-do British parents and the wife of a handsome, successful man from an equally privileged family, Oliver played the parts expected of him. He checked off every box—marriage, children (four), a white-picket fence surrounding a stately home in Connecticut, and a golden retriever named Biscuit.
But beneath the shiny veneer, Oliver was desperately trying to stay afloat as he struggled to maintain a facade of normalcy—his hair was falling out in clumps, he couldn’t eat, and his mood swings often brought him to tears. And then, on an otherwise unremarkable afternoon in September, Oliver Radclyffe woke up and realized the life of a trapped housewife was not one he was ever meant to live. In fact, Oliver had spent his entire life denying the deepest, truest parts of himself. In the wake of this realization, he began the challenging, messy journey toward self-acceptance and living a truer life, knowing he risked the life he’d built to do so.
That journey was fraught, as Oliver navigated leaving a marriage and reintroducing himself to his children. And despite the challenges he faced, Oliver realized there was no way for him to go back to the beautiful lie of his previous life. Not if he wanted to survive.
Frighten the Horses is a trans man’s coming of age story, about a housewife who comes out as a lesbian and tentatively, at first, steps into the world of queerness. With growing courage and the support of his newfound community, Oliver is finally able to face the question of his gender identity and become the man he is supposed to be. The story of a flawed, fascinating, gorgeously queer man, Frighten the Horses introduces Oliver Radclyffe as a witty, arresting, unforgettable voice.
Oliver Radclyffe is a British-born writer whose work examines the topics of gender identity, sexual orientation, familial allegiance and social class from a trans perspective. He is the author of ADULT HUMAN MALE, a monograph, and FRIGHTEN THE HORSES, a memoir published by Roxane Gay Books. His work has appeared in The New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, Electric Literature, LitHub and Them. He currently lives in Connecticut with his four children.
Frighten The Horses is a truly interesting and honest memoir that follows Oliver Radclyffe through his journey becoming a trans man. I'm certainly not saying everyone should wait until they are well past teenage years to decide what gender (or non gender they wish to be) but Oliver gave his transition a huge amount of thought before he took any of the steps he did.
It is clear from the book that his main cheerleaders have been his children, parents and close friends- often the ones expected to struggle with such a change.
I found the whole memoir very interesting and only took exception to the parts where Oliver insists that English people don't talk about homosexuality or gender dysphoria. This memoir starts in 2012 - if he'd been talking about 1952 then I might have agreed but England is not a trans/homo-phobic society any more or less than any other country. Of course Oliver appears to come from a higher class than I and he obviously had different experiences but I deeply resented that anyone American reading this would think we are all bigots over here.
Apart from those infrequent references the rest of the book was well written, clear, concise and fascinating. I'd definitely recommend it.
Thanks to Netgalley and Grove Atlantic for the advance review copy.
Oliver was born with a silver spoon and lived as a high-end suburban mother-of-four until a passing parade of motorcycle mavens triggered two revelations: s/he wanted to be in love with a woman, and s/he was a man. This easy-to-read, almost jocular memoir is a tribute to how much the trans trajectory has been transformed by the existence of queer bookstores, lesbian and transmasc books, LGBT centers and their accompanying support groups. And how all of this labor to create infrastructure has succeeded in making transition so much more possible, not only for trans people, but for their parents, children, friends and even ex-husbands. This hopeful retelling of one life, from the post-transition perspective, makes trans a more viable possibility and documents this historical moment of opportunity and resource.
This should be required reading for literally everyone. I imagine it would be an emotional read for any trans person, but I am as cis and straight as they come. It was a beautiful and sharp exploration of one person’s journey through queerness in their 40s, and possibly the most comprehensive account of someone coming to terms with their gender expression that I’ve ever read, but more than anything it was the truest exploration about learning to love yourself. Advocating for yourself, setting your boundaries.
The writing was meticulous and he was so forgiving in his journey, even when he was in disbelief and denial about who he might be. I wish I had the clarity even in hindsight about pinnacle moments of discovery in my life.
I adored this book so much I’d stop and pet the cover like a weirdo.
“Few people can live in denial for their entire life without eventually reaching a breaking point.”
Frighten the Horses opens with a vivid scene of Radclyffe at the barber sharp, internally beaming with pride that he was “man enough” to make it on to his barber’s Instagram page. After I read this, I just knew this book was going to be a hit.
Radclyffe seemingly had it all: a loving husband, four healthy children, a house in the suburbs. But that was part of the problem… He was playing the role of devoted housewife, attending PTA meetings and hosting dinner parties, while struggling with his internal narrative. He grew more and more distressed until one random day in September 2011 when it all came crashing down and he realized he that couldn’t keep up the act anymore.
Inside these pages, readers witness Radclyffe’s transition from a straight, cisgender housewife to a timid lesbian to a queer man. The journey is messy at times but absolutely mesmerizing for readers as we watch Radclyffe grapple with his identity and step in to the man that he was born to be.
This memoir is a striking and incredibly touching reminder that it is never too late to step in to your truest self and find your voice. I would recommend it to anyone looking for an authentic account on trans experience.
Thank you Grove Atlantic and NetGalley for the digital copy in exchange for an honest review. Available 09/17/2024!
One of the best trans memoirs I’ve ever read—especially because it did not feel like the cookie cutter “trans memoir” I’ve come to know laden with buzzwords, overdone language and broad, oversimplified and uncomplicated narratives of transition. Radclyffe is not only sharp, cynical, and deeply self-aware, he writes scenes that prompt audible laughter, both sympathetic and cringeworthy. (His monologue to his parents and his dad’s response, for one.)
Though I am a far younger trans person myself, I relate heavily to the way he speaks about his experience and gender politics, the way he relates (and often doesn’t relate) to the queer community, and even when the prose became personal and almost too intimate, it was interesting and engrossing rather than mortifying. This is a fascinating story, and I was expecting to be disappointed with such a sizzling premise on the jacket, but this was not the case. He handles talk about his identity and class without any sort of apologetics or again, buzzwords or clichés. I felt like I could be good friends with the author, too.
maybe i need to be more open as a trans man. thank you oliver, your writing style perfectly captures the mental hoops i also went through when figuring out myself; you taught me i'm still figuring things out. i felt oliver's distress and pain and confusion and euphoria as intensely as i have felt it myself
There’s a certain kind of life many of us are taught to chase – a so-called "ideal" that comes with stability, family, and a well-painted picture of happiness. For Oliver Radclyffe, he had all that and more. Raised in a privileged family, he seemed to have it all, and to the outside world, his life as a wife and mother of four was picture-perfect. But behind the scenes, Oliver was unraveling, feeling trapped in a body and life that didn’t align with who he was inside.
Frighten the Horses isn’t just another memoir – it’s a candid, raw, and surprisingly witty account of Oliver’s journey to embracing his identity as a trans man. The stress of hiding his truth took a toll, with his hair falling out, moods swinging, and a body that felt as if it were at war with itself. His story of transition is as much a journey of mental awakening as it is a physical one, and it’s told with grace and honesty. Oliver lays out the reality of transitioning without bitterness or anger; instead, he fills the pages with self-awareness, resilience, and a touch of humor that makes this memoir feel refreshing.
What sets Frighten the Horses apart is Oliver's voice – open, heartfelt, and anything but cynical. His story isn’t about proving anything or fighting against anyone; it’s about embracing who he is, even when the journey is messy and daunting. It’s a beautiful reminder that the path to self-discovery isn’t always neat, and sometimes, breaking free from expectations means breaking open parts of ourselves we didn’t even realize were locked away.
By the time I finished the last page, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Oliver is someone I’d genuinely like to know. Frighten the Horses left me feeling inspired, grateful, and more aware of the strength it takes to live authentically. This memoir is a must-read for anyone navigating their own path to self-acceptance or anyone just looking for a beautifully honest story of what it means to truly come into your own.
Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for the advanced reader's copy; all opinions expressed in this review are my own.
really enjoyed this read :-) i haven’t read many books by trans men, especially memoirs, so it was nice to be able to relate to the author in that sense. this book was also a nice reminder that it’s never too late in life to start over even when change is particularly scary.
It’s hard to review a memoir in some ways but this was quite engaging and well written — very interesting to read in the context of the nonbinary literature class I’ve been in this semester (this was not for the class). He displays a level of empathy towards the people around him that’s kind of astounding. My only qualm is that I wonder if it wraps up a little too neatly — though perhaps that is a convention of the genre more than anything else, and was glad to read a happy ending nonetheless
To be trans in the USA these days is to be one of the first frogs in the ever heating pot. Don't do anything with your passport, lest it be held indefinitely/invalidated/destroyed. Don't ignore the governor of "liberal" California agree that trans women don't belong in correctly gendered sports or prisons, signaling that forced genital examinations of children is necessary when a marginalized population is assumed to be entirely composed of sexual predators. Practice infosec at protests and don't trust your cis allies too much, lest they drag you too close to their BFF cop who, when the time comes, will just "do their job" and arrest you on charges of public indecency simply for existing in plain view. To read this, then, a transition in the late 90s/early 00's in a high income bracket, could easily have been an exercise in unadulterated envy. Thankfully, Radclyffe took his journey in analytical stride in all of its privileges and its horrors: sufficient capital for non insurance covered top surgery versus decades of forced housewifery complete with multiple instances of childbirth, loving parents vs lack of gainful employment, NY ease of community versus country forced sex reassignment surgery in exchange for legal recognition.
The list goes on, but the fact that I come to this with personally won insight rather than increasing levels of curiosity and self-doubt says more about the last two and a half years of my life than anything else. However, this means I'm not quite on top of what cis folks would think of this, which these days is the real bugbear in the room. As many a review says, the book is borderline conversational, and doesn't throw the typical jargon at you (the benefits of a barely-Interneted transition, although there is supreme privilege in having the space and time to buy the right books and have the right conversations), and will likely win many of the 'just like us' crowd over. However, for the ones who see pedophiles in every space save for the home and the church, there's a field day to be had with a few of the scenes (namely one involving a yank bank from a parking lot facing doorway and a subsequent juvenile dislocated shoulder). And considering how often the latter show up to city councils and town halls and the former demurely stay at home, I honestly don't know if the book will serve as the political tinder spark that these works so often get shoved into.
All in all, as a trans man memoir, this is exceptional testimony that I'm sure has already prevented more than a few self harmings/suicides/self-abjectifying behaviors. The fact that it came out now, though, is a blessing and a curse, as the hypervisibility all too often coagulates as the channels thorough which the scapegoating of a minority within a minority may pass, a retrofitting of the gay panic of yesteryear shoved into brand new 'genital mutilation' suit. In other words, I read this just in time to witness the active dismantling of all that had been won since Oliver first start putting words on a page. My only ironclad certainty at this point is that, thanks to my health, current statistics give me an 80% chance of making it to the five year mark (not accounting for mortality causes other than cancer), aka one year more than a certain Big Orange's term limit. What will come at the end of those five years is anyone's guess. In the meantime, I'm banding together what and who I can, connecting works like these to those who need it most and being loud about my existence being rendered illegal in the ears of those on high who have learned to see me as a valuable part of their community. At the end of the day, though, if the government is going to make it easier for me to legally own a gun than have proper ID, I am nothing if not resourceful.
When there is a type of story that needs to be told, I really struggle with rating it poorly. I cannot imagine this sort of modern, first person narrative of transitioning from female to male is readily available. There should be so many more memoirs like this, especially as politicians and mainstream media chose to create their own false narratives of trans experience.
All that said, this book frustrated me quite a bit. While there are sections that are compulsively readable and high drama, it lacks a deep self-investigation and honesty that makes a memoir exceptional. You get the sense throughout, that everyone is an enemy of Oliver’s journey. People feel more like obstacles and props than like actual people. It feels like Radclyffe is doing a lot of purposeful positioning and shining stories up. This is most visible in how he discusses the breakup of a meaningful romantic relationship with a lesbian. There are parts of this story that feel unfair to her (even though she herself is complicated).
I just could not get over the fact that so many chapters of his life felt like they neatly fit in a box. Like there were no complications in coming out to parents who were deeply homophobic their whole lives. Like every obstacle was dealt with once. I also found myself shocked at how politically unengaged the author was before his own journey of self-discovery. To read this, you’d think Radclyffe transitioned in the 60s when there was no content about queer lives. But it was the 2000s.
Clearly, the author comes from a very privileged background. To his credit, he readily admits that and seems to own that he was withdrawn from politics. But so much of the political engagement from him and his parents felt uninterested until it was their own lives at stake. I guess I’m trying to say, this narrator doesn’t feel sympathetic but is painting themselves sympathetically often.
I feel like a hater, so I will say, this is extremely readable. The first few chapters are quite a bit rocky, but Radclyffe clearly knows how to keep a story running with the juiciest bits. I think overall, the writing style was a bit too bare bones, especially for the kind of book I thought I was going into. But, this is easy to gobble up quickly and that’s good, because the more exposure to these ideas people get, the better.
Also, I did really like the exploration of how “switching side”, for lack of a better term, changed his relationship to women. This is the sort of thing that is so complicated and I want even more writing on in the future. I think many people will enjoy this book and I seem to be the outlier here, so glad it is finding its audience.
Thanks to NetGalley and Roxane Gay Books for the ARC!
Oliver Radclyffe’s Frighten the Horses is a reflective and effective memoir on the author’s journey from cishet-presenting housewife to lesbian to trans man. It’s a complicated story in the simplest of terms, and that is its greatest strength.
Radclyffe resists so many memoirish tropes, avoiding existential drama in favor of experiential detail. He is less concerned with the hand-wringing of becoming a capital-S “Self” and more preoccupied with the handholding people need to be themselves. The book is richly shaded by his excellent ability to depict mundane anxieties—Is the Amazon algorithm going to be overtly queer if he searches for lesbian books? Or, as his parents wonder, Will he be sent to a men’s prison if he’s arrested post-transition?
There are, of course, some complex themes, such as reflections on what it means to be a man—the distinction between violence and strength, and what it means to choose gentleness in the face of that ambiguity. Similarly, Radclyffe’s descriptions of dysphoria are really effective, focusing primarily on simple physicality and the discomfort of phantom limb sensations.
I suspect the writing style found in Frighten the Horses will be divisive. Radclyffe’s prose is characterized by the same kind of solid, workmanlike masculinity that he seeks to embody throughout his life, which makes the writing both approachable and—perhaps to its detriment—unaffected. Gender and sexual identity are often such volatile topics, particularly in memoir, so there’s something entrancing about the author’s pragmatic, almost methodical, journey to understanding himself, even if it precludes dramatic narrative turns.
Most admirably, this is just such a generous book. I think memoirs often depict an untouchable narrator, steamrolling the people around them to discover their truest self, but Radclyffe never does that. He never demonizes anybody, and he’s very compassionate in his understanding of the cost of coming out. For example, he’s forthright about his ex-husband’s cruelty, but he also seems attuned to the insecurities that animate it. Elsewhere, we read some very pointed and painful conversations, but there’s rarely—if ever—a dichotomy between who is “right” and who is “wrong.” Instead, the author gracefully depicts these moments as unfortunate timing—a shame that this is where these lives intersect. So many memoirs fail from a lack of perspective, but Radclyffe brings it in spades.
I have a feeling Frighten the Horses will fly under the radar, but Oliver Radclyffe has written a memoir that will resonate with the readers who find it, and I hope it signals an authorial future filled with many more books.
What a wonderful memoir. I was interested in it because I’d met the author before they started their physical transition, but it was so much more than I expected. The story itself is fascinating and educational. It’s a kind of Bildungsroman but for someone in mid-life, and all the more striking because of that. But what makes it so exceptionally good is that it’s so readable. I could hear the author’s voice in the narrative, and the dialogue brought everything alive on the page. You may think that the story of someone transitioning to become a man wouldn’t be interesting to someone who isn’t queer, but I’m here to tell you, you’re mistaken. We could all use more empathy, and this book will help expand the reader’s (if it needs it!) PS I’ve used the pronouns they/them, but throughout the book I simply thought of the author as he/him. Not sure which usage is right for Oliver Radclyffe, but I suspect he’d be fine with either.
I'm a cishet woman so I don't directly relate to Oliver's story, but I did understand a lot of what he felt as a suburban mom being trapped by expectations. And everything about his journey to discovering his identity, first as a lesbian and then as a trans man, was so heartwarming and eye-opening to me. I looove a good self-discovery story, but I usually get that through middle grade or young adult books. There's something so special about seeing an adult finally discover who they truly are after so many years (omg I'm crying now writing this).
I do think the first 20ish% was a bit rough as the chapters switched back and forth between two different timelines, and I felt like I was missing a lot of context. But I eventually got it, and once the book started focusing on the one timeline, it was easier to follow and really engaging. I did wonder what it was like for Radclyffe to be pregnant and give birth, something traditionally so associated with femininity, but he only briefly touched on that (as is his right). He mostly focused on his childhood and the years leading up to his coming out after his first realization.
Radclyffe was super honest and went into a lot of detail about his personal life that sometimes felt like I was a voyeur watching a reality show. I think this book would indulge a lot of people's desire for gossip haha. Radclyffe showed the reactions of everyone in his life, and I feel like he gave the ones who reacted badly quite a bit of grace as he tried to think through their thought processes. Which made the reactions of those who reacted positively even more emotional (). I loved seeing all the support groups he went to--it was such a different experience than what I feel like gen Zs and younger millennials would do in his situation.
I'll always remember the scene in the sex shop, It was so funny and heartwarming at the same time, which I feel like describes the mood of this book so well. Radclyffe was so open with both his struggles and his triumphs, and I loved following along with his journey. I highly recommend this book for everyone, and I wish Oliver the best!!
3.5? It’s hard to explain what I didn’t like about the book. Although it was an easy read and compelled me to want to finish, I felt like the story was…biased? It’s a memoir, so obviously it is. But it felt like the details were all sort of enhanced to fit the narrative, the people along the way were not fully or authentically portrayed. An “unreliable narrator” is what someone called it and that feels right. It’s a unique trans story, but also one of multi-faceted privilege that seems like someone who acknowledges that but also, it was just a little off. It feels harsh to rate memoirs, these are real people and the stories they shared with the world. But here we are…
Mid book. Easy to read but the protagonist is super rich and I know that being trans is hard but it would have been nice for him to acknowledge his financial privilege at least once, and how that insulates him from a lot of struggles in his transition. Like he said “I bought a house and now I knew I would have to save pennies but thankfully I still had enough to get top surgery“ like wtf bro ur loaded. That’s not normal lol just admit ur rich there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Then you can give me all your money to pay for my top surgery okay ngā mihi nui.
Another narrative we need more of out there - realizing later in life post being trapped in a heterosexual marriage with a guy who sounds like a real dickhead ngl that you’re gay and trans in short succession. Oliver is honest about what the kids went through (and I hope they continue to have a good relationship), and pretty much went through coming out to the British peerage multiple times which is ultra hard mode, I think. Best to him, and I hope he continues to thrive.
This started strong—Radclyffe is an excellent writer and really draws in the reader, a hallmark of any good memoir. But I didn't feel he was able to keep the initial momentum throughout (often falling into navel-gazing territory), and by the last fifth of the book I was ready for it to be over. Still, I learned something valuable about one person's trans experience, and as it is a subject near & dear to my heart, I consider reading this memoir time well spent.
this memoir is approachable and readable even while discussing difficult experiences that Oliver went through. i loved the chapter where he initially comes out to his mom as a lesbian, and cackled at his description of her. i also got watery eyes when he came out to his dad, and some of the scenes later on in the book. i’m making an effort to expand my worldview and this was just so well written even as it contained almost a decades worth of experience, so i am very glad I picked this up!
I REALLY enjoyed this book! Probs a 4.5/5! I read it for a Three Avenues Book Club (which I loved) and it was a great motivator to get me to finish it. It was a slower start but I sped through the second half!
Oliver was an amazing storyteller and told the journey of his transition so beautifully through the difficulties of motherhood, suburbs, british class systems, marriage, gay culture, sobriety, etc. I learned so much & appreciated his perspective SO MUCH! Would reccomend to all <3
Rather than frightening anyone, including horses, Oliver Radclyffe's sensitive, emotional, and oftentimes quite humorous story of gender dysphoria and reclamation is a love story to self, community, and family. His four children are the constellation in the sky as he reconstructs the long journey towards self love and wholeness. Travel along with the Radclyffe family on a road that provides an unflinching account of the courage it takes to live a life of truth, and learn the answers to questions which you may before have only briefly wondered. Bravo, Oliver!
Radclyffe’s memoir details his experience of navigating his queer identity, moving from a married mother to a lesbian to a trans man. Trans masculine memoirs and books remain rare, and some may find valuable representation with this text, particularly given its additional intersectionalities. I also cannot ignore the courage it takes to share one’s vulnerable moments in any memoir, but especially in one like this where the author has already had to overcome much.
However, I found the writing overall bland and thus had difficulty maintaining interest in the narrative. It felt like readers were being told everything rather than shown. There are long explanations in the form of dialogue take place, for example, which feels less like authentic conversation and more like lecturing.
Always Oliver, My Thoughts on Reading Oliver Radclyffe’s Frighten the Horses
I’ve met Oliver, and he is one of my favorite humans. I smile when I think of him and the connection we made while performing The Vagina Monologues at The Westport Library in February 2020, just before everything shut down. In Frighten the Horses, he told me about a person named Nicky and the experience of being and knowing her. He spoke about his parents—my reaction to my loved one sharing with me that they are gay was quite similar to Oliver’s dad’s. That moment made me question everything I had been socialized to believe. Over time, as I got to know more LGBTQIA+ people, I unlearned the oppressive messages I had previously learned. Oliver shared stories about his ex-husband, his beautiful children, his friendships, and the lifelong connections that shaped him. By the end of the book, I was fully invested in his triumph, freedom, and love. Our stories matter, and we need to share them. This world needs to wake up, and I truly believe in the transcendence of all of us. Until we are all free, none of us are free. We must listen to, see, and validate each other’s experiences. At 10:20 p.m. on October 10, 2024, after spending the entire day reading in bed while recovering from COVID-19, I finished the last lines of Frighten the Horses. As I closed the book, tears welled up. I rolled over in bed, lying on my left side, and let the joy, and the freedom, that Oliver had reached wash over me. The emotions rose in my chest and overtook me, and I released them the only way I know—with tears. That aching feeling, one so familiar to anyone who has been oppressed, filled me as I reflected on the phrase: "Live free or die." I was fully engaged and wanted more so I picked up Adult Human Male, Oliver’s first book, that gave me insight and understanding of transgender. I even fully understand why Oliver doesn’t like the word transition. He already was and continues to be who he is. This is our one human experience, yet so many social constructs stifle us, suffocating us until people die with their stories still trapped inside them. But Oliver—having been kept in the dark about many of life’s complexities—chose to pay attention. He took the time to learn and unlearn and now uses his life experience as a gift to the world. We can all learn from him and support each other. Frighten the Horses made me laugh, kept me on the edge of my seat, and filled me with curiosity. I devoured it in less than a day. Having had the pleasure of meeting Oliver, I can say that his masculine energy exudes compassion and warmth, making him one of my favorite humans and a truly magical soul. I’m left with a deep sense of hope—knowing that you can fully be yourself, walking confidently through this world without anyone asking you to shrink or be punished for your strength or for being "too much." As Oliver said, “Maybe one day, when scientists can adequately explain how the human brain creates consciousness, we will have better words to describe the experience of being trans. But for now, you will just have to trust that I am telling you the truth of how it feels…Trans. People are the ultimate proof that the gender hierarchy is all in our minds. Or in other people’s minds anyway.” You would be doing yourself a great favor by reading Frighten the Horses, by Oliver Radclyffe!
"'Someone who gets a face list because they want to look young is trying to turn themselves into something they're not. I'm trying to turn myself into something I am. It isn't vanity, it's necessity."
This may be the best memoir I've read of the trans experience, ever. I worry when I pick up memoirs that I may be in for someone with a good story but little in the way of writing chops. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Radclyffe has a super compelling story AND the writing chops to back it up. I wouldn't have been as surprised if I had recalled that I believe I added this to my list because it was picked up by Roxanne Gay books. I should always trust that woman. Oh, and if you get Oliver Jeffers to illustrate your cover, BONUS.
Radclyffe lived the first forty years of his life as a prim and proper British girl then wife and ex-pat. He had four children and a house in the suburbs. Things were all chugging along as expected until Radclyffe began experiencing a myriad of physical symptoms indicating something was very wrong. Radclyffe began to understand that he had not been paying attention to some of his own thoughts and feelings. He explored those and came to an understanding that he was attracted to women. Radclyffe describes his journey of understanding himself as a lesbian and what it would mean for himself, his family, his reputation and his marriage. Radclyffe's description of the relentless tension between who he knew himself to be and his desire to live authentically and the impact that would have on his external life was extremely well done. Radclyffe eventually comes to an understanding that he was not a gay women but, rather, a trans man. He, essentially, has to go through many of the same processes again of coming out and blowing up his internal and external lives in order to live an authentic life.
I am so glad this book exists. I just wish more people would read it. I mean just over 300 ratings on Goodreads???? Stupid. If you're at all interested in the trans experience or, even more so, if you aren't then pick this book up. It does what books do best--gives an insight into what it's like to live someone else's experience. Exercise that empathy bone. Learn something.
"I'd had no idea that loss wasn't jus ta missing thing, it was a physical assault that could shatter your body from the inside. Nobody had told me that grief would feel like being trampled by a horse daily, or that for months--years--afterwards a random kick would suddenly appear out of the lbue, an expected hoof to the chest knocking the wind out of my lungs."