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Keep Repeating: Change is good.

Written by Nightshade on . Posted in Abuse, Coming Out, History, LGBT+. 1 Comment on Keep Repeating: Change is good.

I am having to remember that I did this for all the right reasons. There is little to celebrate at the moment so I must keep reminding myself that change is good, otherwise I will start withdrawing and burying myself again – and that serves no-one, least of all my family.

It's been a hard week for another reason. Tony has been busy with a visitor from the US. This guy has been going through the same journey as both of us and Tony's been chatting to him for months. By all accounts, they're having a great time… which leaves me on my own. No, I'm not self-pitying – well maybe a bit… I'm allowed. It's been a rough couple of weeks and months.

My wife finally decided to take a trip up to London to meet Caitriona (26) and Sebastian (23) – child 2 & child 3 – on Sunday. This presented me with an opportunity to join a gay meetup for Sunday lunch and a follow-on at Flirt's (a coffee, cake and beer hangout – I know…). It's a great place, not just for the LGBT crowd, with loads of comfy sofas and tables. We settled in and I was the only one to stick to beer – I don't mix beer & coffee 🙂

It was really fun and I met some great guys I will definitely be keeping in contact with. I slipped up at one point by saying “we” bought a house and ended up telling them my story. I think they were quite shocked, but they were nice about it and after the initial embarrassment, they made me feel completely at ease.

Part of my story which seems to come up a lot is my gay relationship back in my early 20s. The AIDS “tombstone” ad was running on TV at the time. No-one really knew anything about the disease except that if you go it, you would die a fairly horrible death – and that the LGB community was particularly affected (I don't think the “T” had been added to the end of the acronym yet, and I also think that most people thought Bisexuality was a myth, or just greedy).

Here I hesitate to go into too much detail, but I did admit to ending up in A&E (the ER to you ‘Murcans). I still am trying to recognise that person who would let himself be assaulted so badly he would end up with 3 cracked ribs, a cracked tibia and two black eyes and countless bruises.

My explanation? I fell.

Needless to say, they didn't believe me. I was kept in hospital for two days while the shrinks did their stuff and they convinced me to move out. One of the social workers even accompanied me to pick up my stuff. We got to the flat and I realised I was shaking. My guardian angel rang the bell. My erstwhile boyfriend Paul answered the door and smiled. Not a nice smile, a sort of cold, dismissive one.

“You back?”

“No. Just getting my stuff”. I shuffled past him.

Hi watched me shoving my clothes and my precious books into a couple of suitcases only slightly hampered by the cast on my left arm.

“You're straight, you know”

I looked back at him, tears in my eyes. One of my – his – mates was sitting on the sofa. I looked over for support but he looked away. He was uncomfortable, but he wasn't going to say anything. It both broke and hardened my heart.

“I'm not straight. But if being gay means you get beaten up and forced to have sex, then I don't want it. I don't want anything to to do with you or anyone you associate with who could let you do this to me, or stand by.” I couldn't even face the prospect that I may have been raped. Even as I write this, I have had to pause. Do I really want to re-live this? Do I want to write this down? Do I want to publish this?

“Fuck off and get out! You've got your stuff, so bugger off.” were his parting words.

I didn't answer. I left without turning around, leaving behind 4 months that could've changed my life. I never saw him again. The shaking also eventually stopped.

I left with the guy from social services (or wherever he was from) and we went to a temporary accommodation where I basically curled up in ball and waited for the nightmare to pass. It didn't, of course. Not straight away. But I still had to go to work, look for a place to live, and start to piece my life back together.

And I had two pieces of unfinished business:

Firstly, to say goodbye to my friends at Madame Jojo's – a transvestite review bar in Central London. The bouncer had had a crush on me and the staff considered me a bit of a mascot and looked after me the best they could – I think because in those days I looked barely older than 12. I told them (most) of what had happened, and said that I needed space to recover. I'd see them soon. I had every intention of going back, but never did. That was the last time I set foot in the place. Sadly it closed in 2014. Another gay London venue that fell victim to the Westminster council's war against the unusual and quirky.

The second thing was to take an HIV test. That time waiting for the results was really scary, but I was lucky. I took a second one to be sure.

I found a place to live – well, my work had me travelling so frequently, they put me up in this cool pad in Russel Square in London so I could be ready to jump on a plane any time. I buried myself in work for 2 years. Partly because of work, partly because I was incapable of facing the gay community again, I became a loner. I met people in passing, trying not to make friendships that mattered.

After 2 years of nearly constant travel and high stress work, I sort of burnt out and was transferred to Belgium where I met my wife. That relationship turned out to be everything the previous one had not been – loving, gentle, fun – and the rest is history. I buried Paul and my gay past, preferring to be bisexual. Preferring not to deal with that part of me and scared I would be pulled back into it, only to experience the same abuse again.

No way. Never again. So that's why it's taken me over 35 years to come out, I guess. We all have our stories. Perhaps mine is more tragic than most – perhaps it isn't – but I regret none of my decisions. I don't hate Paul. Without him, I may never have met my wife, would never had kids. I think I would have been a lesser man. I wonder what happened to him… Do I care? Chances are, he's dead.

When I started this post, I didn't intend to write about this. I am crying now, but they are good tears. It is the start of a process of dealing with something that happened a long time ago and which I can now start to deal with.

As I said. change is good, right?

Right?

The names of the people and some of the places have been changed to protect both me and them. I'm sure you understand.

A Week After Coming Out as Gay

Written by Nightshade on . Posted in Coming Out, Family, LGBT+, Main Journey, Struggle. 2 Comments on A Week After Coming Out as Gay

Coming out as gay is not as straightforward as it appears

So we are a week after my coming out as gay to my wife. What has happened in that week?

I was hoping my wife would get over the initial shock and move to the next stage – possibly anger – and demand answers. But so far she has refused to talk to me. This really bothers me as I feel I am losing her – both as a life partner and a friend. That would represent the worst outcome I could imagine. Time will tell whether she agrees to talk this through – no matter how painful – or decides to close down and put up barriers. If she puts up barriers that will be it.

Time to tell the kids

On the plus side, I had a conversation with each of the kids. My eldest is now in the US and as it happened, he was available first. It was quite funny. He asked me to restate I had not cheated on his Mum before saying I was brave and that he was proud of me. That was sweet, but he's also deflecting some of his own feelings and concentrating on others – just like I used to. It's easier and safer. Eventually he will have to confront his own feelings and then I guess we'll have a great conversation.

After that conversation, I went back down to the living room, sat down and cried. Not sure whether it was relief or just nerves, but I really sobbed uncontrollably. This has really been a hell of a rollercoaster and the dam of built-up of emotions is starting to crumble and break.

Kid 2

Once I got myself back together again, I approached my youngest daughter who's just turned 21 and is looking to move out. Sitting on her bed, I went through my story and at the end, she just hugged me and told me she loved me. It helps that she came out as bi some time ago, but it still must've been a shock to hear her Dad is gay. The younger generation just don't have the same hang-ups as the older generation, I guess.

Kid 3

Once I had recovered, my eldest daughter – child No. 2 – texted to say she had time to chat. So I gathered myself for the third time that day to have yet another difficult conversation. It didn't get any easier, even after 2 goes. In both calls, we did a video call. It was important for me to be able to see them. Tears were rolling down her face. Her first words were “it must've been so difficult for you”. The second were “I'm so proud of you”.

Although it warmed my heart and I lover her dearly, I'm not sure I can agree that my kids can be proud of me. I would certainly concur it was brave as the fear-factor was at 300%, but proud of me? After all, I've risked everything I've worked for all my life just for the privilege to be “authentic”. Whilst that does have some advantages, it's also quite selfish. My therapist says that there is a balance between caring for others and oneself, but right now I just feel sort of sad that my mental health had to be at the expense of someone else's, especially when that someone else is my family.

Kid 4

Finally, I also then had to tackle child No.3 who has high-functioning Asperger's syndrome – which he (unsurprisingly) denies. But since his life revolves around good and bad, black & white, I was not expecting much support. His first words were “It's Mental”. Not sure I could disagree. “But you're Bi, right? I mean, you still love Mum, so you must be Bi”. I tried to explain, but he became more angry as the conversation went on, incapable of comprehending what was really happening. I went through the sequence again, hoping he would understand, but we hung up with the issue unresolved.

To his credit, he did call a couple of days later to apologise, presumably after having talked with his brother & sisters and perhaps gained a wider perspective. I thought that was nice of him. I did tell him that no matter what he thought of me, I loved him, and his feelings and opinions on the matter were valid and justified. No need to apologise for being honest.

His reaction had hurt though, I can't deny it. A bit like my wife's reaction. But their feelings and reactions are not mine to control. They are just mine to accept and possibly move on.

So that's it for now. I have other news, but this post is getting long, so I'll leave it here and I'll write up the rest tomorrow. Until then, wherever you are, Dear Reader, I hope you're doing well. Leave a comment if any of this is useful to you.

Man & woman hugging

G-Day: The Day I Came Out as Gay

Written by Nightshade on . Posted in Coming Out, LGBT+, Main Journey, The Beginning. No Comments on G-Day: The Day I Came Out as Gay

The Deed

Monday 20th June, 2022. At the age of 59 years, 8 months and 6 days old, I came out as gay to my wife. We have been married for 29 years and will celebrate our 30th anniversary on 1 September this year.

For those of you who have been following this blog, it will come as no surprise that I have been agonising over this for some time now and this week was the perfect time to tell her – if I was going to tell her.

I can tell you folks, that it didn't go all that well. I tried to explain why so late in life, tried to explain how I had reached the conclusion that I'm gay and tried to explain that I still loved her deeply – I do – that she is my soulmate and that we would somehow always be together. None of it seemed to make much difference, and I could see the hurt and pain in her eyes.

It killed me and I have shed more tears in the last 24h than in the past 10 years.

I have read that this process can be like a grieving process for the straight partner.

  • Stage 1: Denial & shock
  • Stage 2: Anger & resentment
  • Stage 3: Bargaining
  • Stage 4: Withdrawal and Depression
  • Stage 5: Acceptance
  • Stage 6: Outreach

For a full description of all of these stages, click here: https://straightpartnersanonymous.com/grieving-and-recovery

The Consequences

So we're in stage 1. I'm not sure what I else expected, but she cried pretty much all day and at least half of the next. I feel guilty for putting this on her, but as I mentioned before, I have never been dishonest – even about my sexuality – and I've never been unfaithful. However, all I'm getting is monosyllabic answers to my attempts to communicate. The one thing she did ask that was hurtful is why did I tell her? Was I trying to give myself permission to have an affair with another guy? For the moment, no. I think if I felt I had to explore that side at any stage, our marriage would be over and I'd have a different discussion with her.

Many other men in my situation would have had an affair leading up to the moment they publicly came out, but because I had my gay relationship early on in my twenties, I didn't feel the need to experiment. And given my experience with that, I'm going to have to work through quite a lot of crap before I can even consider thinking about whether I want that or not.

The difficulty here is finding the balance between giving her space and withdrawing. I don't want her to think she's alone. I want to be there in case she has questions. I will try to be sensitive and accepting of her feelings. I have had a couple of months and as I read back to my first post, I can recognise the confusion and the shock that I had to deal with, before coming to some sort of acceptance that I would have to be honest and tell her.

The Aftermath

So how do I feel? This experience has been harrowing – I won't deny it, and to be honest, it's early days yet. I feel guilty for laying this on her and changing our relationship so profoundly – perhaps terminally. She is grieving the loss whilst I still hold out some hope that we can have a relationship.

The fact that I have Tony – someone who was referred through the podcast Graying Rainbows – and my therapist is great. I'm worried that she has no-one and in order to provide some support – if she's not going to look further afield – I will have to tell the kids sooner rather than later.

My life has changed. My marriage has changed. But, as you know, dear reader, I felt that I didn't have a choice. I made sure I chose an appropriate time and have been as available as possible. That's all I can do. I do not control events from here. My family does.

I have also realised, that although the first step was probably the hardest, I have a long way to go. I have to tell the kids, possibly my brother. Do I tell Mum (who is 84)? Not right now. What about my friends? Some, perhaps, but this coming out is exhausting.

Tune in next time… I will have told the kids by then, I think.

selective focus photo of brown and blue hourglass on stones

Tempus Fugit: Time Flies When You’re Having Fun

Written by Nightshade on . Posted in Coming Out, Coming to Terms, LGBT+, Main Journey, The Beginning. No Comments on Tempus Fugit: Time Flies When You’re Having Fun

The Clock Ticks and Time Flies

Not sure who told me that time flies when you least want it to. Tempus Fugit has been much overused but so appropriate for how I feel. I'm approaching the last bend in the track and the finish line is in sight. Or is it the starting line? My wife will be abck

I listened to the Rainbow Dads podcast which was introduced to me by Tony – my erstwhile mentor from Manchester. Anyhow, this podcast has sent me into a bit of a negative spiral. Everything they're discussing just doesn't sound like me. Maybe it's the shitty gay relationship I had in my 20s, but the thought of having to enter the “scene” to meet people just fills me with dread. I'm not interested in casual sex and according to the Dads on the podcast, that's sort of the only way to meet other gay people. I'm rapidly going off the idea that I want anything to do with that part of me.

This Chapter is Closing

I think this journey has been one of self-discovery. It is not over, but some things are becoming clear. The reason I would like to come clean, so-to-speak is to be honest with my wife. We have not been that intimate over the last years and I've put that down to age – but that's not really it. She has to be able to make the decision that this is all I can be to her going forward. It's not nothing, of course. I love her deeply. But individual free will is so fundamental to me, that I owe her that.

Now that I am out to myself, I do not have the ability – psychologically – to keep this to myself. Maybe I'm just rationalising because I'm scared. My last gay relationship was pretty catastrophic and if love is not part of the equation then I can probably do without it.

I think I have come to a reasonable place in my thinking. From panicking yesterday, I now understand what I want. Deep down, I just need the love of my life to know. That's all – for now. Maybe that will change. Maybe I will explore this part of me – but on my terms. Not on anyone else's.

A Calm Understanding

A first step after telling my wife may be going up to Manchester and meeting my mentor – just for a weekend. That will be a start. That is a small step into a new world. Tentative. Timorous. A pinkie toe dipped in a new gay ocean. Yes. That seems right.

I will not post again until I have told my wife – unless I start panicking again. This is it. I think I now have the answers I need to do what I have to do. Next Monday or Tuesday will be a perfect time – not too close to our anniversary. Not close to a Birthday and plenty of time for her to back out of coming sailing with me. I have a small window. Can I find the courage to act? Let's find out together.

black and silver fountain pen

The Surprisingly Powerful Session

Written by Nightshade on . Posted in Coming Out, Coming to Terms, LGBT+, Main Journey, Struggle, The Beginning. No Comments on The Surprisingly Powerful Session

I want to tell you about the surprisingly powerful session I had yesterday with my therapist. Usually it's a way for me to talk through some of the conflicting feelings I've been having about coming out to my wife in particular, but this time was different and I can't stop thinking about it.

In the session a week ago, the therapist suggested I write a letter to my wife, explaining my thinking about coming out and writing down my journey so far. I did so as soon as I got home and it was so easy to write it wrote itself . I made no edits, thinking I would come back to it before giving it to her. It was totally honest, and would allow her, hopefully, to digest the information I had already given to her once I had come out to her.

At this most recent session I told my therapist about the letter-writing process and she asked me to read it. Since it was in my cloud drive, it was available on my phone so I started reading. The first couple of sentences went well, but I started to feel super-emotional as I went on talking about our family and how, despite the harm it may do, I don't have a choice as I'm destroying the relationships by withdrawing into myself.

I got it together during the factual historical boring bits (to me) recounting my failed gay relationship in the 80s, and the events that led me to understanding I was gay instead of bisexual. Then the letter changed and I started talking about my feelings and how my decision would affect her and I lost it again – to such an extent that I was unable to continue for quite a while.

When I finally was able to, I struggled through the final paragraphs and then broke down again. I was amazed. The depth of my emotions was so intense and it took me completely by surprise. The letter had been very easy and straightforward to write, but reading it out loud was massively hard and demonstrated how hard it will be to tell her.

If you, dear reader, are in a similar situation, I would recommend you do the same. Write everything you want to say to your spouse in a letter and be brutally honest. It will be quite easy to write because it is your truth. It is what you are feeling right now. And then, a week or so later read it to your therapist, best friend or significant other who is helping you through this process. If you don't have anyone, get someone. It is so important to be supported and to feel that you have others you can lean on when things get tough – and, after this experience, I'm convinced that they will get very tough for a while.

Maybe I'll share the letter some day. If you are interested, send me an email at nightshade@storiesonspeed.com

I have a week-and-a-half left before I have to tell my wife. I am terrified. But this experience has brought home to me why I don't have any other option. Staying silent IS not an option. The emotional strain has become too much and I need to come clean.

Staying Focused on What’s Important

Written by Nightshade on . Posted in Coming Out, Coming to Terms, LGBT+, Main Journey, The Beginning. No Comments on Staying Focused on What’s Important

In the last post, I wrote about how two sides were battling for supremacy. This week, I wanted concentrate on staying focused and on being as authentic as possible. The crazy back and forth that I had experienced over the past few weeks was just not tenable and it was making me crazy. Added to that, I had sort of decided when I was going to come out to my wife – if I dared, and that deadline is fast approaching in the week commencing 20th June – in about 2 weeks.

So I have to be sure. I have to be sure that this is the right thing to do. My strategy has been to start researching LGBT+ groups in my area. If you live in a larger city, there is more on offer, though I think my age does play a part. I reached out to Dr. Ginger Campbell from Graying Rainbows – an amazing resource for those who come out later in life – to join one of her community groups but because new content has now ceased, the groups have fizzled out. However in reaching out to her, she immediately wrote back a really wonderfully supportive e-mail and also offered to link me up with one of her interviewees from the UK. Not sure whether he'll get in touch, but it really was a nice gesture. I'll let you know if he does 🙂

I then went and did some more searches for local meetup.com groups in Bournemouth – again, not many, but a couple stood out – Bournemouth Gay Men and Friends Out and About and Bournemouth Gay Men Social's – well, they were the only ones… Not sure what Social's means but I guess I'll eventually find out – and sound super-pedantic at the same time. Sorry. Apostrophes in odd places make my OCD go crazy.

Anyhow, this focus on “what next” has really kept me in the moment. Sure, I usually wake up thinking this whole thing is the stupidest idea ever and why would I risk everything because I'm such a snowflake etc., but I think that now that I know, now that I have come out to myself, I will eventually be outed anyway and I far prefer to do it on my own terms than have it happen to me.

I have also started to lose a bit of weight… possibly the stress is helping, but it's a great side-benefit. If I have to feel like I'm about to explode, then at least there needs to be a rainbow-coloured lining, right?

One more thing, if you're reading this and you are also on this side of coming out, I would recommend that you get some support. It could be a best friend (if you trust them), a LGBT-affirming coach or even a therapist. I went and googled LGBT therapists and was really lucky to find someone I could relate to straight away. I don't think I could have made the progress I've made – from being totally at sea, to starting to accept that there could be very serious consequences to coming out – and still wanting to go through with it. I don't know whether I will succeed, whether I will have the courage, but I hope I will. I have some time to work on the final aspects and I will write about these preparations in my next post.

See you soon.

Victory or Defeat? Which Side of Me Will Win?

Written by Nightshade on . Posted in Coming Out, LGBT+, Main Journey, Struggle, The Beginning. No Comments on Victory or Defeat? Which Side of Me Will Win?

At the moment it's a toss-up. One of me says that I must be authentic and come out. The other is scared of the consequences and is doing an excellent job convincing me to shut up. Which side of me will win? I'm feeling the heat now that the battle of the psyches has begun in earnest.

It is now, near the end of the day, when I'm sitting here thinking this is all a big mistake and I should delete this blog and disappear back into the ether. My Thursday therapy session seems a long time ago although it was just this morning, but I can remember the clarity, the feeling of absolute conviction about what I have to do. Like a distant memory, but getting a little clearer every week.

There are two sides of me. The side that wants to get out there and be real and the side that's desperately telling me that I'm being an idiot and that I'm putting my whole life on the line are alternating between telling me I should and I shouldn't speak. But I know what will happen if I don't.

I now have 3 weeks until the first “ideal” slot appears. There are a few events, including a week where Helen, my wife (not her real name), is away. I don't want to spoil her week away, so probably soon after she gets back. Before then, I will have to come up with the perfect way to broach the subject and explain.

I have one thing going for me: everything I've done was in good faith although I wonder whether my life would've turned out differently if my first same-sex relationship hadn't been such a disaster. Would I have wanted it to be different? I may never have left London, never met Helen, never had kids… and that part of my life has been so important to me that i cant imagine it being any different. Sure, it would have been nice to have it all, but who gets to have it all? We all make choices and compromises in our life and we need to take responsibility for that.

However, there also comes a time when the need for authenticity becomes too strong – too insistent. For me, the shock was understanding or admitting to myself that I was gay, not bisexual. and that really only happened a couple of months ago, the catalyst having been Stefano, who I met last summer in Italy. Although it was just a friendship and I told him I was married etc., this did unleash the first big crisis in a little while. Maybe I'll write a longer post on this subject…

So now I’m sitting here wondering what to do… well not so much wondering, but fighting with myself. my gay side is screaming to be acknowledged even though there is so much to lose… which is exactly what my other side is trying desperately to hold on to.

I heard someone say the other day, that you can't control what someone else will think or feel. All you can do it be your real self. That's good advice. I think I'm nearly there.

Profound change a Catalyst for Good

Written by Nightshade on . Posted in Coming Out, LGBT+, Struggle, The Beginning. No Comments on Profound change a Catalyst for Good

So I'm confused. Confusion reigns as my habit of keeping my real-self hidden is battling with that part of me that wants to come out. Is profound change a catalyst for good and if so, under what guise?

On several mornings over the past couple of weeks I have woken up determined that this has all been a mistake. A colossal joke that I'm playing on myself. How could I be gay if:

  1. I'm not sure what do do with that information and I have no real plans for post-coming out and
  2. I'm comfortable with my life as it is. But am I really?

Therapy sort of helps get be back on track, but only while I'm in the room and possibly a few hours afterwards. The next day at the latest, I wonder how I could have been so sure. As the next session approaches I wonder what the hell I'm going to say. When I get there, all these doubts go away and the session is great… until it's over. My therapist says that I'm brining all of me to the session so all of a sudden it's easy to talk. But how do I move on from this? It's not a question of courage now, but a real self-doubt as to whether I've embarked on the right path.

At times I feel that I'm just going through a midlife crisis – something to do which challenges the status quo – but then I remember the crisis points, the depth of sadness, the uncontrolled sobbing in the kitchen – and this is not just some temporary craziness, but something deep which I have finally come to recognise. The crisis points need to be remembered when I flounder or wallow in self-doubt. I must remember the feelings that I cannot control and what that means.

Tomorrow is therapy day. All too short, but helpful in a kind of stake-in-the-ground kind of way. Perhaps, when I have planted the requisite number of steps I will be able to see past this coming-out challenge and understand what the next steps need to be.

No-one can see the future, but I need to at least have an objective or two about what happens after I tell my wife, and all this definitely needs to happen before my 60th Birthday.

Is There Anyone Out There?

Written by Nightshade on . Posted in Coming Out, LGBT+, Main Journey, Struggle. No Comments on Is There Anyone Out There?

The question as to whether there is anyone out there is moot. Of course, there are many people out there, only I have withdrawn so much, I feel that I am writing for me alone – which is paradoxical as I've put quite a bit of effort into making this site. The question remains whether anyone will bother to read this. If you haven't read the first post, I urge you to read it now as it puts everything into context.

So why write? At the moment, I am so confused, so scared of the consequences of what I'm about to do that I feel like a teenager taking his first steps into the world. In a way, part of my psyche is doing just that. Part of me is still that scared boy I was at 16 battling with forbidden feelings, worried of losing his friends and facing the uncomprehending and disapproving gaze of his parents. I know they would never have understood.

This blog is a way is also a way for me to clarify my feelings… a stream of consciousness (well, nearly). It will allow me to come to terms with how my life will change once I tell my wife and kids. The kids will be cool, I think. Shocked, possibly. My wife is different matter, but I can understand that.

I know that although I want to control the whole process, but that won't be possible once the cat is truly out of the bag. She will then have control over what happens next. And that's ok, I guess, but it's scary. I'm definitely a coward 🙂

But I always have to return to the story of the knight who asked “Is it better to speak or die?” Although that question is a trick (we all die anyway), the question is what will speaking achieve? As someone who values being able to make choices in life, I think I owe it to my best friend (my wife) to let her make her own.

At the same time, I would like to spare everyone's feelings. I've read plenty of posts where men in my situation have only come out after the relationship failed, they were found out, or the spouse passed away. Of course, the damage that staying silent is doing to me must be a factor too. I'm done lying to myself. It is time to come clean. Something has to change.

The big question is actually not the obvious one. What happens next? What do I do once I've come clean? I have no idea. I've looked for support groups I could join, but apart from a few meetup groups, it seems to be a fairly barren scene. And I'm not looking for a relationship, just people who understand me.

That's why I want to know: Is there anyone out there? Do you have an opinion or some suggestions? The floor is yours.

Depressed man leaning against a wall

Only the Truth can prevent complete destruction

Written by Nightshade on . Posted in Coming Out, Coming to Terms, LGBT+, Main Journey, Struggle. No Comments on Only the Truth can prevent complete destruction

I'm a 59-year-old man happily married to my wife. One problem: I've realised I'm gay and I've also realised that only the truth can prevent complete destruction of myself and everything I love.

How does that happen? You must think me callous, mean-spirited and morally bankrupt. well, at least you're not alone… so do I.

Well one thing I can say, is that it happened despite myself. If I could change something – anything – not to be in the situation I'm in right now, I would do it. But here we are. Coming out as gay later in life brings with is a huge amount of baggage I'd rather not have and it threatens to upend a successful marriage.

As I start this blog, I have come out to myself but to no-one else and it's killing me. But this is the first step. A necessary step. I would like to avoid hurting anyone, but I know that's not possible. If I stay in the closet, I am hurting myself and as a bonus, lying to the people I love the most. If I come out, I will definitely hurt my wife. So what to do?

But before I get too specific, let me say some things… I think I can hear you shouting from here… How did it come to this?

As a young man in the 80s, not many people were openly gay, but I did have the chance to meet a man who I admired – a lot. I really looked up to him in the puppy dog way that young men in their very early 20s look up to anyone who is older and – they think – wiser. He was witty, funny and clever. He was a musician and actor and pretty all-round amazing. He was older, and more experienced. The first weeks were amazing and fun and for the first time, I felt completely at ease with myself.

The loving relationship soured quickly though and after the first heady rush of passion, it became borderline abusive and cheap. I felt used and hurt. I objected to some of the things he wanted me to do and some of the things he wanted me to wear were ridiculous. I told him this was too much at once. Could we take it slower? The abuse abruptly worsened and after a stint in the emergency room after “a fall”, he told me I was straight and boring. I should leave. It was over.

I left that relationship believing him. If I could not do what he asked of me – and what he asked was, apparently, not unreasonable if you were gay – the logical conclusion was that I was straight – or bisexual maybe? Either way I knew I didn't want what he was offering. I didn't feel right to me.

A couple of straight relationships followed. And then one day, I met my future wife. We really hit it off. It was amazing. It felt right. We clicked. It was a loving relationship. We laughed, we cried, we lived in Paris together and eventually, 29 years ago, we got married. We now have several grown-up kids, and over these 29 years, I firmly believed I was bisexual. My mistake was probably not telling my wife sooner but in my mind, I had made my choice, so my sexuality was irrelevant. And it was – for along time. But over the years I have had the feeling that something was missing. Not definable, really, but an undeniable emptiness.

So roll on 2021, and I'm working on my clapped-out sailboat that I bought for a song. I'm alone and have been working in the Sicilian sun for about 2 weeks when I meet a gay man and we become friends. Nothing sexual, mind, and nothing sinister. We just became good friends, going out, drinking, laughing. But the impact and the feelings that this friendship brought up were impossible to ignore. It was a trigger and I went into a deep depression for a week, only being forced to emerge when my son joined me to go sailing. That brought me back to reality and I pushed the feelings aside again, but the door had been forced open and as soon as he left, I had to confront what I had felt.

Over the last few months I have come to the inevitable conclusion that I am not bisexual after all – I'm gay. I've been lying to myself all these years and I now have to face the fact that what I have believed these last 40 years was complete bollocks.

Last weekend, my wife was away so I had the house to myself. These are the times when reality really kicks in. It is the time, when I am alone with my thoughts, I have time to process without having to spend huge amounts of energy pretending to be someone else, consciously or not. I realise that despite having moved to Bournemouth (south-western UK) nearly 2 years ago, I haven't made any friends here. Not only that, I have retreated into myself and refuse to have a social life. I don't have real conversations with my wife anymore, so I'm not only withdrawing from others, I'm withdrawing from those I love the most.

It was time for action. So this week, I called a therapist to help me organise my thoughts and prepare a plan to tell my wife. I've already had one session and I can't wait for the next one. But right now, I feel scared to death. Scared that I will hurt her so deeply she will hate me and I'll lose my best friend. I'm scared that she will think this is her fault. I'm scared that she will think that I've purposely misled her. Have I? I don't think so and I have been utterly faithful throughout these years. I just hope that I can convince her not to hate me – in time.

There's passage in the Tale X of the Heptameron by Marguerite de Navarre, where honourable Amadour asks the married Florida whom he loves: “I pray you, sweetheart, counsel me whether it is better for a man to speak or die?” This is, of course a trap. We all die so it is always better to speak. I will speak when I am ready. Sometime soon. For good or ill, my sweet wife needs to know the truth. In that way she can have agency and I can avoid destroying myself.

I hope, dear reader, that if you stumble on this blog, it can help you in some way. Your story is not mine, nor mine yours, but I will regularly update you on my progress. Until then, I wish you well. Don't be shy to comment if the fancy takes you.