There’s a kind of love that doesn’t happen until after the unraveling. Not the fireworks, not the crushes, not the half-versions of yourself trying to be enough for someone else. We’re talking about real love—the kind that shows up when you’ve stopped performing and started being. That’s the kind of love Elliot Page seems to have found.
And the world noticed.
Just before the end of Pride Month 2025, Elliot posted a photo to his Instagram: a low-key selfie with comedian Julia Shiplett on a rainbow-painted crosswalk. No caption. Just three emojis: 🌈✨💗. It was casual, sweet, and loud in its own quiet way—a soft hard launch that said, This is who I’m with, and this is who I am.
Julia reposted it with a short video of Elliot shirtless in a hot spring, adding: “Happy prideee 💦😮💨.” Internet approved. And honestly, so did our hearts.
Because this wasn’t just about “going public.” It was the first time Elliot Page has been openly in a relationship since coming out as a trans man in 2020. And it felt like more than just a relationship update. It felt like a milestone in someone’s becoming.
Who is Julia Shiplett?
If you’re not deep in alt-comedy TikTok or haven’t watched Overcompensating on Prime Video, let’s catch you up.
Julia Shiplett is a Brooklyn-based actress and comedian. She’s known for her sharp, offbeat humor and has appeared in shows like High Maintenance, Love Life, and even American Dad! She’s written for The New Yorker, The New York Times, NBC—you name it. She’s smart, hilarious, and very much her own person.
So when she and Elliot showed up together at a WNBA game earlier this June and started quietly posting glimpses of their time together, fans didn’t just see a cute couple—they saw something rare: two people who feel like themselves with each other.
What makes this story so moving?
It’s not dramatic. There’s no messy breakup, no public declarations, no chaos. That’s exactly why it hits so hard.
Because for many trans people—and honestly, for anyone who’s spent years trying to fit themselves into the mold of what someone else wanted—finding love after reclaiming your identity feels almost… fictional. Like something that happens to other people. Especially if you’ve been told, in a thousand tiny ways, that becoming yourself might mean ending up alone.
He transitioned. He divorced. He shared his scars and stories with the world. He went through the public, vulnerable work of becoming—and he made it to the other side with someone by his side who sees him for who he is now.
That’s big. That’s the story.
What’s radical about Elliot and Julia’s love story isn’t that they’re queer, or that he’s trans. It’s that they’re just… happy. Soft. Chill. There’s no spectacle. It’s a public relationship that doesn’t feel performative, curated, or reactive. Just two people in their late thirties, sharing hot springs and basketball games and little moments.
And there’s something healing in watching a trans man live, love, and be loved without explanation.
Because when you’ve fought to be yourself—when you’ve taken the risk to become someone new—it’s easy to believe that love might not follow you there.
But Elliot and Julia remind us: Sometimes love doesn’t find you until you get there.
