Or, My Personal Introduction to the Concept of Gender Dysphoria while Chilling in a Beanbag in Tommy Woodroof's Room.
So, in about 1988 or thereabouts (based on "I had a car" time), I was hanging out one night at Tommy Woodroof's house, which was near the school where we all went and it feels like we might have been waiting on something to happen. The late 80s is well before comics' acceptance into the mainstream, and it predates the Batman movie by one year. (When the Keaton/Nicholson Batman came out in the summer of 1989, Tommy would literally have all of the things. He was a Batman - and DC - guy way before that, though.) Because of this, those of us who had comics would put them in the hands of people who came over to our house. Also, with no Internet or smartphones and no one reading industry buzz, the only way you found out shit existed at all was to have a comic store guy try to sell it to you or to have someone drop you some word of mouth. Tommy's the one who got me to read Camelot 3000 in this way.
Camelot 3000 is a story of a futuristic Earth where aliens are sort of mid-aggressive invasion; they've taken over some stuff, they're poised to do a lot worse, and a resistance is needed. To that end, a young man unearths the tomb of King Arthur, and his Knights of the Table Round are reincarnated in the bodies of people already living. Guinevere's a military leader, Percival's a monster, Galahad's a Bushido Samurai, and so on. The most controversial, interesting, eye-opening, sexy and weird one of these was the reincarnation of Sir Tristan into a woman's body, however. That's him up there on the far left in the tight black pants and short auburn hair. He spends basically the whole series lamenting the state of affairs that has landed him in the wrong body, and nearly commits great evil to get his penis back. His internal dialogue was endlessly fascinating to me, and at least as interesting as the "will they/won't they" with Isolde.
You may recall that Tristan and Isolde have a fairly celebrated romance. When she's reincarnated, her body is also a she. And she still loves Tristan. So, what's the problem? Turns out, there's not one. Tristan and Isolde get back together at the end and it is a definite part of the "happy" endings some of the characters get. (Don't be gross.) For me? This was an introduction to a facet or seven of human sexuality I had never even thought of, much less encountered, and it opened intellectual doors for a kid raised by a tribe of intolerant straight guys who thought all gays were pedophiles. Tristan was male, even if Tristan wasn't. And Tristan could love Isolde - in every way - regardless of equipment. But that headspace was fucking important.
So, thank you, Mssrs. Barr & Bolland and the good people @ DC for broadening my horizons before I even knew I needed them broadened.