My experience with the kinds of reasonable and educated people I either work with or frequent as friends is that they are generally supportive even if they cannot relate. Even my religious brother, who I had a conversation with not that long ago, understood that one cannot paddle upstream forever and that whatever the cause of my dysphoria it deserves to be treated. When I mentioned that I was weighing social transition he understood and whatever I needed to do was up to me. My 82-year-old mother is much the same although perhaps a little more reticent. In the end, she concedes that she wants to see me happy and that is what counts most.
I have not decided anything yet but it is good to know that I will have support in places where previously I wasn’t all that sure.
We often tend to be our own worst enemies.