When You're Gay in a Straight Marriage
I’m not the only one. There are others of us too.
I narrowly escaped my near-homo experience in my early twenties (The Sin of Same-Sex) with my good-standing before God intact. I straightened out - there was no way I would be one of those. The punk, tattooed, purple spike-haired sodomites with their evil sex agenda to…..to…..make everything ungodly.
I didn’t even have to pray the gay away. I simply didn’t inspect my high-school girl-crushes, and once my church leaders accused me of lesbianism (oh my gosh - I cannot say that word with a straight face) when I unwittingly fell in love with a girl, I pushed that shit deep sea into a treasure chest chained and sunken to the greatest depths I possessed. Never to be opened again.
I went from anti-dating (The Sin of Dating and Take Your Purity Movement and Shove it!) to marrying the first guy I ever had butterflies for. Evidently, I was blessed and highly favored because dating and falling in love with a Frenchman was the giddy stuff of romantic comedies, where gratefully, I was no longer in my church and discovered sexual freedom on my own.
I know that some of my friends can’t say the same thing. Whether they cried before God every night over the cruelty of their gayness or simply denied it like me, some of them wed inside our church’s nearly arranged-marriage style of courtship. Maybe they were besties with the person they married. But best friends and romantic life partners aren’t by default the same thing. Whatever - it was the best shot a gay person had for leading a straight, sin-free, church-approved life.
Like the jungle drum in Jumanji or Edgar Allan Poe’s Telltale Heart, a primitive sound began to thump louder and louder right around the time of my marriage’s seven-year-itch. I was the only one who could hear it. My kids couldn’t hear it, and my husband couldn’t hear it. He didn’t even know that at one time I sunk a vault of sapphic secrets to the bottom of the sea. The sound migrated from the treasure chest of profundity and came hurtling into my own chest, knocking me off balance, propelling my straight walk into a stagger, and it wasn’t to go unattended any longer.
One year.
That’s how long I took to deep-sea dive, unlock the chest, examine the contents, and resurface with the answers to three questions:
Am I a lesbian?
Do I love my husband?
Do I need to leave my husband?
To amply research an answer to question number one, I scoured iTunes for podcasts by any lesbian willing to talk about it and covertly camped out in the restricted area of the information-highway library. Back in 2012, not everyone and their dog was doing a podcast, but I did find The Latent Lesbian (wherever you are, I owe you big) and like me, she married a man and realized well into her marriage and in her 40’s that she was more fond of the ladies than the gents. I clung to her every utterance and desperately tried to will her into more episodes after her journey satisfied her questioning, but not mine. Onward. I’d have to explore my heart solo. I’d have to acknowledge and embrace whatever truth was present therein. No more denial, no more hiding.
Well, was I a lesbian then? Yeah. Looked like it. Pretty damn sure.
As if in the scene of a film, I took a big gulp, and in slow motion turned to look at my children playing innocently on the floor. How could I do this to them? I couldn’t disrupt their lives like this.
But I wasn’t done. I hadn’t answered questions two and three. Mercifully, question two was easy. Do I love my husband? Yes. I’ve never stopped loving him. Nothing has changed to make me stop loving him.
Question three was more complicated. Do I need to leave my husband? Ummm…..? Ok, we are good life partners. We are friends. We love each other. We are good parents to our kids and make a strong family unit. We are even romantic with each other and enjoy sex together.
My questions were answered, but what to do about my findings wasn’t yet clear. This newly-realized publication would need to be peer-reviewed and validated by my best colleague; my husband. It was time to reveal the contents and share the secrets.
He listened with great patience and empathy. One of the things that impressed me the most about my atheist husband was that he was the most non-judgemental, most accepting, loving, and caring person I had ever met, and I grew up surrounded by nothing but Christians. He opened his heart to me bigger than ever and even though he too took a hard gulp at the truth I was telling him, he loved me enough to know that I had to reconcile myself with my past and my innermost being. No matter what that meant.
Given the fact that I loved my husband and nothing in me wanted to separate myself from him in any way, I understood that I could love him and still love women. I didn’t feel compromised, severed from my true self, or discontent with my findings. I felt relieved. Oh my gosh - I like women!!! Yay! And I can stay with my husband.
I know that is not the case for everyone who comes to terms with their sexuality in the middle of a marriage that might not match their needs or who they are. My husband does meet my needs. At least, a good portion of them. And this is where adulting, honesty, and real-ass accountability and communication come in. For me, I needed to be able to explore my sapphic side without endangering my relationship with my husband. Freedom inside relationships and sexuality is exquisite liberation and diligent work at the same time. And it works for us. Is it always easy? Very few things in life are. But is it worth it? OH YES.
I will never go back to being dishonest with myself or with anyone I am in a relationship with. Because that isn’t worth it. Not everyone who comes to terms with their gay self will be able to remain in a straight marriage. It requires the true satisfaction of both partners to make something like that work. But no matter what the honest answers to your truest self are, that vault in the depths of your heart will continue to thump and pulse and beat until you answer its call. It is hard, and loved ones might hurt. But honesty brings freedom, and you and yours can start healing.
Postscript:
When I finished this article, and before my husband even knew what I was writing about, he pulled me onto his lap and played a song for me. It could be our theme song. I know my experience isn’t everyone’s, but it’s true and right for me and him. May you find what is true and right for you, no matter what that looks like.
You say there's so much you don't know
You need to go and find yourself
You say you'd rather be alone
'Cause you think you won't find it tied to someone else Ooh, who said it's true
That the growing only happens on your own?
They don't know me and you I don't think you have to leave
If to change is what you need
You can change right next to me
When you're high, I'll take the lows
You can ebb and I can flow
And we'll take it slow
And grow as we go
Grow as we go You won't be the only one
I am unfinished, I've got so much left to learn
I don't know how this river runs
But I'd like the company through every twist and turn Ooh, who said it's true
That the growing only happens on your own?
They don't know me and you You don't ever have to leave
If to change is what you need
You can change right next to me
When you're high, I'll take the lows
You can ebb and I can flow
And we'll take it slow
And grow as we go
Grow as we go
Grow as we go
Grow as we go I don't know who we'll become
I can't promise it's not written in the stars
But I believe that when it's done
We're gonna see that it was better
That we grew up together Tell me you don't wanna leave
'Cause if change is what you need
You can change right next to me
When you're high, I'll take the lows
You can ebb and I can flow
We'll take it slow
And grow as we go
Grow as we go
Grow as we go
Grow as we go
