When he was 20, Elliot Page became the fourth-youngest person to be nominated for the best actress Oscar for his role in Juno, a film about a young woman facing the decision of what to do about an unplanned pregnancy.

But Page couldn't enjoy the feeling of reaching a major career milestone because he was facing a deep inner struggle.

"In that time after Juno came out, I felt guilty about feeling any negative emotion," Page told Q's Tom Power in an interview. "I just felt, 'Oh, you're so ungrateful. This is this thing so many people want.'

"[You're] being told your dreams are coming true all the time when, quite frankly, I was not feeling that way. That was not a celebratory time for me whatsoever, and I was quite miserable."

It took Page years to come out as gay, which he did in a speech at the Human Rights Campaign's 2014 Time to Thrive conference, and then in 2020, he came out as trans in an emotional Instagram post. Now, the Canadian actor has written a memoir, titled Pageboy, that details the fears and obstacles he faced while negotiating his identity in the public eye.

Power noted some irony in the fact that with Juno, and other roles in films like Hard Candy and Whip It, Page had developed a reputation for playing confident and outspoken characters, while in real life, he felt pressured to hide his true self.

"Particularly in my late teens, in some ways, I really was confident and outspoken," said Page. "I could take the producer of Juno to used clothing stores in Vancouver and be like, 'This is what she's going to wear.' And felt able to communicate those things, at least from a creative standpoint. And then, in so many ways, I feel like that got squashed."

"When that movie became the surprise hit it became, and profitable, all of a sudden, they didn't seem to want the magic that I brought to that character that made that character special.… My queerness and my transness is a part of what made Juno cool. What made that character special and resonate in a new way, particularly with a lot of young audience members, you know? And then in terms of the actual promoting of the film and its success, that was apparently not allowed in that space."

Page had been working as an actor since he was 10, but being thrust into Hollywood was a new experience for him that came as a shock. He was shamed, dismissed and told not to be himself — or that if he were to be himself, he would never achieve success.

"I got veered off course in regards to my own personal trajectory and where I needed to get to in my life," he said. "Obviously, I made a choice to go along with it … but it didn't feel like I had that much of a choice though."

"In the moments in my life where I did try to come out on some level, or did try to make the first even tiny little steps to share who I was — whether in personal life with family or in the industry itself — some of the reactions and the feedback I got, understandably, just created this layer upon layer upon layer upon layer of shame and embarrassment that I swallowed, and it lived in my body, and it held me back."

Pageboy follows a non-linear structure that's intended to reflect the actor's experience of being a queer and trans person.

"I think a lot of people can relate to knowing who you are when you're really young, but not necessarily having the language for it, then getting older, a lot of noise getting in the way, people filling you with ideas and narratives that mislead you from your truth. Getting close, pulling back, getting close, pulling back," he told Power.

He felt it was important to begin the book by exploring the impact the "pressure from the Hollywood machine" had on him after Juno was released, as that's when he became more widely known to audiences. Page said excavating the shame he felt when he was "so, so, so closeted" was cathartic and healing.

"I wanted to start with a period that was in a time when I felt like I was creeping closer to my truth, so to speak," he explained. "Or at least getting to a place where I was no longer going to allow shame to rule my life as much as it had growing up and in my adolescence."

Around his 30th birthday, Page started to think about what it might mean for him to come out as trans. "That was the first time I, very much to myself and out loud to very few people, but was starting to say, like, 'I'm trans. I think I'm trans,'" he said.

"I allowed that to exist for a moment, and then I shoved that away. A big part of that reason was, well, clearly I wasn't ready, I guess. But also the sense of, 'How is this possible?' Like, just as a known actor, what does that look like? What does it mean to transition publicly? It just felt so big.

"I would kind of constantly talk myself out of it, you know? 'Oh, no, you just need to learn to be more comfortable. You just need to get tighter sports bras. You just need to dress this way. You just need to get this haircut.' And trying all these things because I was struggling to wrap my head around how would that look like? What would that mean? And then, of course, you know, it wasn't for a few more years till I actually made the steps I needed to make to be myself and live my life."

The opportunity to write a book had come up before in Page's life, but he had never been able to wrap his head around the idea. "I didn't really think it was possible, quite frankly," he told Power.

"I was just so uncomfortable in myself. The thought of even being able to sit down for hours and create was not feasible. Like not a part of my reality at all. And since stepping into my truth, so to speak, and being in a body that feels like my own … the sort of creative energy and force that has come with that [and] through that, has just been kind of, you know, indescribable. Not something that I had imagined in my past. I did struggle to see a future. I did not know what my future would look like."

Ultimately, Page chose to share his story because of the potential it had to help others.

"In this climate we've found ourselves [in], with such extreme anti-trans rhetoric, lies and misinformation about our lives, it felt like an opportunity to grasp," he said. "Having this platform that I have, in knowing how much stories have helped me, have changed my life, have offered me comfort and support. And I felt like by potentially sharing mine, if that could reach anyone and allow them to feel less alone or seen, that felt worth it to me, I suppose."

Still, Page noted that greater visibility for the trans community is complex — while it can bring people comfort to know they're not alone, it can also make those same people a target.

"Backlash comes with visibility, which disproportionately affects, of course, the most marginalized and vulnerable people in the community," said Page. "My life is not reflective of most trans people's experiences. People who disproportionately experience unemployment, experience homelessness, violence, incarceration — particularly Black trans people. And it's important that, you know, my story is not some sort of universalized story for potentially some people who might not be as familiar with the trans community or have not read a lot of the books by trans and queer authors that I most certainly wish people would read."

Today, instead of contending with shame and guilt, Page wakes up feeling present, embodied and joyful.

"I feel so much joy when I'm hanging out with my trans friends, and we're just together and sharing space and laughing and doing karaoke, you know? Like when I was up here [in Toronto] shooting the fourth season [of The Umbrella Academy], friends visited and [we'd] go to Canada's Wonderland and go on roller-coasters, and to High Park and wander around for hours and — community. To me, [what's] key right now for joy is community."