Bonnie Kaye's Straight Talk (8 page)

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY--NOT

In the past, I have written about the difficulty that straight wives have during the holiday season. It is not uncommon for depression to set in somewhere around Thanksgiving and continue right through the New Year. During that six-week period, there are three holidays that revolve around family happiness and unity, something most of us are missing.

While we get caught up in the preparation for these holidays, we can’t help but to feel an emotional letdown when they actually take place. We know what they represent, and yet, we never feel the wonder and joy of what the holidays represent that others are feeling. We go through the motions waiting for the emotional impact to kick in, but when it doesn’t, that’s when the depression sets in.

And now, just as we start to get back to our “normal” existence state of mind to cope in our relationships, we are once again brought down by the most hurtful holiday of all—Valentine’s Day. This is the day that exemplifies love and romance. It’s hearts and flowers all the way. It’s the day that symbolizes what being in love is all about. It’s a day where two people who love each other take the time to stop and think about that love and to remember how it feels to be “in love” even if some of the passion has faded through the years.

If you are the wife of a gay man, this is a day that really hurts. This day, more so than all of the other holidays, is a slap of reality about your marriage. You see, on the other holidays you can cover yourself with a veil of illusion because they are family holidays. Whatever you are lacking in your marriage can be compensated for through your children and other family members. But Valentine’s Day is different. It’s about the two of you. And no matter how you justify it by thinking it’s a day of love in general, it’s not. Yes, you can buy Valentine’s Day cards for your son or daughter, mother and father, co-workers and friends to try to make it better. But there’s really no escaping what it really is—a holiday for lovers.

The reason why this holiday in so painful is because it is upfront and personal and right in your face. No matter how you try to avoid dealing with the reality of living with a gay husband on a day-to-day basis and lull yourself into a false sense of security, Valentine’s Day reminds you of the lie you are living with the man whom you fell in love with and married in good faith. It’s a reminder of everything that you were supposed to have but were cheated from having. And the man who robbed you of your dreams is still lying in bed next to you. Each morning when you wake up with him next to you, it’s one more day of living a lie.

Now the lie wasn’t your lie to start with—it’s his lie. But it has become your lie because you’re living it with him. You’re going through the motions of what marriage is supposed to be, but it’s falling way short of what your intentions were when you made that commitment at the altar Your husband, who promised to love and cherish you through sickness and health ‘til death do you part, never mentioned that he would never be able to love you the way you needed to be loved. In fairness, maybe he didn’t know that he wouldn’t be able to do it. No doubt, he was hoping that he could pull it off. And I’ll even go so far as to say that maybe he didn’t come to terms with the fact that he was gay on that life-changing day. But in almost all cases he knew he was having conflicting feelings. He knew something was off even if he couldn’t figure out that it was homosexuality.

Even when I speak to gay men who tell me that they honestly didn’t believe that they were gay, or hadn’t acted on those impulses prior to marriage, they still knew looking or thinking about men sexually aroused them. And even if they still couldn’t come to terms with that, they knew when they stopped making love to you early in the marriage that they were not attracted to you because you were a woman. But they kept quiet because they were afraid if they told you their secret, you may blow it for them. You might pull away their security blanket leaving them vulnerable and feeling naked. It wasn’t always an easy choice for them to keep lying to you, but it was easier than telling the truth.

So to those of you who are living in one of the many situations that bring us all together under this umbrella of commonality, let me personally wish you a Happy Future Valentine’s Day. Believe me, it can happen to you just like it happened to me. This is a day I celebrate in a big way. It’s a day that makes me happy because I have a man whom I am in love with. He makes my heart flutter and my knees still get shaky when we touch—and that’s after eight years. I don’t say that to brag, but rather to let you know how life was meant to be. You were meant to have a man who can love you and make love to you. You were meant to meet someone who would cherish you and treat you as if you were the most important part of his life. The fact that you were sidetracked doesn’t mean that you are doomed forever. It is never too late to find the happiness you are seeking as long as you don’t give up hope. And even if you don’t want to think about falling in love, at least think about not living in an abusive situation. Work on loving yourself enough to move away from a man who is not your soul mate but who is destroying your soul instead, one layer at a time.

Go out and buy yourself a giant box of chocolates. Enjoy each one of them as you remember how sweet life is supposed to be and how wonderful it will be once you remove yourself from a disastrous situation.

A GIFT FROM MY EX-HUSBAND

Since Valentine’s Day symbolizes love, allow me to tell all of you the wonderful gift that I received from my ex-husband several weeks ago. We finally had the conversation I had been waiting for and wanting to have for nearly twenty years. It was the conversation of honesty, understanding, and apology. Even though we had skirted around these issues numerous times throughout the post-marriage years, he never came up with the words I was waiting to hear until now. It felt so good to hear him say, “Honey, I was an asshole and I’m sorry.” Wow, these were very powerful words. Now some of you may laugh and wonder why I even cared after all of these years, but I did care. I wanted to hear those words come out of his mouth. I wanted him to understand the pain that I had suffered from his abuse. I wanted to know that he understood the impact of what he had done to me. And after I heard those words, I was finally able to forgive him— for real.

It’s so odd that my ex just couldn’t understand that I didn’t blame him for being gay. He knows my point of view because we’ve discussed it hundreds of times. He doesn’t even necessarily agree with me. I say that gay is not a choice—people are born gay. He tells me that maybe in most cases that is true, but not in all cases—like his. He doesn’t believe he was born gay—he was “made” gay due to family circumstances. I am not sure why he feels the need to think that he was “made” gay. Maybe he feels better because this way he doesn’t have to take any responsibility for his irresponsible behavior. Or, maybe it’s because he doesn’t have to feel any remorse for what he’s done as a gay man in straight man’s clothing. Anyway, regardless of this, he really opened up to me and he also listened to my feelings for the first time.

Here’s his story. Michael claims that when he married me, he honestly didn’t know that he was gay. He had gay sex with guys, but there was nothing emotional about it—only sexual. He never kissed these guys or held them passionately. He just “did it” to get some sexual satisfaction. That didn’t mean he was gay, or at least in his early 20’s, he didn’t think that way. He knew he enjoyed having sexual encounters with males, but he still had a strong desire to find a wife and have children. He was sure that’s what made him straight, not gay. He was also not like those “swishy” guys portrayed on television. They made him sick. They were the real gays. He was macho and athletic. No way he was gay.

When we met, he did fall in love with me. And why not? I was interesting, very nice, caring, attractive, and bright. I was kind of exciting back in those days. I was the leader of an activist group back in the 1970’s so I was sort of a semi-celebrity. We had an intense courtship and a quick marriage. When Michael claims that he loved me then, I do believe him. He loved me as much as he was capable of loving a woman. I was the first woman he ever loved so he believed this was going to be the miracle he was looking for to change him. And for a while, he did change—his sexuality that is. He became for all intents and purposes—
STRAIGHT
.

He was able to perform straight sex. And he didn’t hate it. He didn’t mind it. He didn’t love it, but he could do it. I asked him if he fantasized about men when he made love to me and he was very clear that the answer was “NO.” He did remember calling me a man’s name during one of our sexual encounters, but he insists that was a true mistake. He was not thinking about a man at the moment. Okay, I guess. He did explain that when we were in our mid-twenties, sex was still sex. It could still feel good even if it didn’t feel right. He could still have an orgasm sometimes and feel a sense of sexual relief and enjoyment. But he never felt it was fulfilling. After a while, it became more of a chore than a pleasure. And those nagging feelings of male attractions started resurfacing no matter how hard he tried to push them away.

Then our conversation went into some dangerous territories, namely the number of times he cheated on me during those four years. He has continued to claim through the years that there were hardly any times. One thing about me—I have a very sharp memory when it comes to remembering when someone hurts me. Maybe I forgive, but I never forget. Even my current boyfriend who is my soul mate knows that any mistake that unintentionally hurts me is cleanly tucked away in my memory bank for future reference at my discretion. So when Michael and I started pulling rabbits out of a hat of his slipups during our marriage, even he was shocked at the number I kept reaching in and grabbing long after he had forgotten them. And when we finished dredging up each and every one that we could remember, we had quite a list. In fact, he was not very proud of his record. He apologized very sincerely. He said he was an immature jerk back then who didn’t give a damn about me—only himself. Then he asked me if I could finally forgive him and stop being angry about it. Guess what I said? I said NO. I said no because he still didn’t get it.

See, what Michael never understood until that conversation was that I did forgive him for being gay. I even forgave him for cheating on me during our marriage because he was gay. What I didn’t forgive him for were the many years that followed that he continued to be a jerk. I couldn’t forgive him for leaving me stranded for years to raise the children virtually on my own. While he was out with his numerous male partners living la vida loca, I was in taking care of all of the children’s day-to-day needs. He was just so into him that he didn’t have time to be into them. I was literally left holding the bag and stuck with the responsibility of being a single mother. Yes, I say stuck. There were nights I cried myself to sleep because I was so physically and mentally exhausted from juggling all ends. I didn’t have the emotional, physical, or financial support I needed from him. He just wasn’t there for the children or me. He thought he was at the time, but now he knows that he wasn’t.

He claims that when he left, his world came tumbling down. He was crushed and miserable. He loved his family and couldn’t stand the thought of not being with his children. And maybe that was the case for a while. But like so many of the other men that I hear about from my support group members and women who write to me in crisis, those feelings of loss seem to fade mighty quickly as our gay husbands entrench themselves tightly into the gay lifestyle. There just doesn’t seem to be a balance for a long time to come. This leaves us with the burden of everything. And this was the part that was so hard for me to forgive.

You see, lots of marriages fail for lots of reasons. In fact, probably half of all marriages end in divorce today. But that doesn’t mean that most of the fathers walk away from their responsibilities. Some do, and plenty of straight men are jerks. But see, they don’t claim to love their wives when the marriages end like our husbands do. Even when our husbands are leaving us, they still claim they are “loving” us. They just can’t help themselves for being gay. And unlike straight marriages that fail, most of us still love our gay husbands when our marriages are over. We didn’t choose for the marriages to end—they did. Most of us were blindsided until the end with no clue why our husbands didn’t love us enough to stay. Some of you still don’t understand because your husbands are still being dishonest and living in a state of denial—even though you are sure of the truth.

When our husbands leave, they promise that things won’t change between them and the children, but in almost all cases, they do. Maybe not the first few weeks, but shortly thereafter. We were counting on their promises to come through for the children and be there as responsible, participating fathers. That’s what made the separation a little more palatable. But inevitably, their lives change dramatically and everything else is secondary. As we often say in our support chats, “It’s all about them.” And for most of them, it is.

Now that doesn’t mean they don’t change back. I definitely see that in time, so many of these fathers try to be fathers again. Maybe it comes with age; maybe it comes with maturity. Maybe it’s just because they have their fill of themselves and now they are ready to pick up where they left off. Unfortunately, many years are missing and can’t be returned. And the hardships that we, the mothers, have gone through can’t be undone. And that’s what my ex needed to know. That’s what he had to understand what I needed to forgive him for— not being gay. He needed to understand that he was not just a stupid, selfish jerk during our marriage, but also for many of the years that followed when he stranded the children and me.

The best news is that he finally does understand. He finally understands that I wasn’t angry that he is gay. I got over that fact years ago. I was angry that he was always looking out for his own needs before our needs. He finally admitted I was right and asked me to forgive him. I did. There was something very heart lifting about this forgiveness because it was real. It didn’t change the past, but at least he finally understood what it did to me. He could finally feel my pain, my fears, my frustrations, and his part in causing them. It gave me the closure that I was seeking for so long. Hopefully, your ex-husbands and husbands will give you this same gift—the gift of truth, understanding, and apology for their actions during and after the marriage. It took me nearly 20 years, but better late than never.