I do. I dearly loved the Transformers’ only Autobot jet, and had my grandma Alice birthday-gift it to me as a toy PRECICELY because it transformed EXACTLY like how genuine anime-correct Robotech mech-battle toys transformed.
I was in love with the series hero, Rick Hunter, in love the way a sci-fi anime-stricken lad younger than puberty would most deeply be. I identified closely with Rick’s girlfriend not as a transgender thing (I didn’t want to be her), but in that, in place of jealousy I trans-spiritually felt the beauty of her sorrow: she never knew from episode to episode, if those dangeorous space missions he flew would finally bring his end, but he wouldn’t be the singular hero of the series without that constant peril. In that way, the infinate macho of his manhood became the seat of her most delicate womanly longing; THAT is what I identified with. Indeed, I fantasized about me somehow being equally loved and cherished by him as he cherished her, even as I flew along side him in missions in my own Robotech mech, in his squadron.
Why am I also tagging this post trans liberation? Because I realize just now, a stylistic choice common to the anime style of the series incidentally also meant that Rick Hunter’s face was so lean and delicate as to be profoundly androgynous. He could, in his face, easily have the face of a real man who presents only the ambiguity of his gender not even in his shoulders, but in the undecided question of the shape of his face. He was boyish, if not girly, not as a poltical or sexual statement, but as an artistic understanding that his manhood was in the honor and valor of his life’s mission, but that the body bringing that valor forth was as wan and delicate as a body’s face could be.