Welcome. Here we are. This is an update of my wild gay expedition after a tumultuous year on is perhaps not where I thought it would be, but, to be fair, dear reader, I don't think I really new where I wanted to go, so it's not surprise I'm where I am.
This time last year I was preparing to tell my wife I was gay. Since then it's been a bit of a crazy ride.
At first, my wife wouldn't talk to me. Even though she knew now much this process had affected me, she felt that whereas she had been cast adrift with no future, I had “invented” a while new future for myself – and she understandably resented me for it.
Their reactions had been everything from “so what” to “I'm proud of you” to “sorry, we can't hang out anymore” – that last one stung quite a bit.
On my side, I felt like I had been building up to this big reveal, I'd been through several difficult conversation with my (adult) kids, other relatives, friends and acquaintances. When I finally stopped, the result was – well – a bit of a let-down. Nothing had really changed, except that now everyone knew. Their reactions had been everything from “so what” to “I'm proud of you” to “sorry, we can't hang out anymore” – that last one stung quite a bit.
So here I was: a bit lost – again. I mean, now what? I joined some local meetups and met some people who although were quite nice, I felt guilty meeting every time knowing my wife was at home and not involved. I faced fairly chilly or non-committal conversation at home and I started to resent the whole thing. My daughter was being a good do-between, but it really wasn't fair on her.
This was a situation which was not working for either of us, so at my daughter's urging we went to couples counselling. My biggest fear was that my wife wouldn't talk, but she did. So did I. I found out I still love her, she's still my friend and best of all, it's mutual. We still actually get on quite well, it turns out. So we're still together – for the time being. It's not an “open” marriage, but I feel less constrained to be faithful now that there's no chance of sex at home – nevertheless, I haven't found anyone and I'm not actively looking or planning to be bad. If it happens, well, it happens.
My feeling is that despite going willingly into this new phase, we are growing apart. Things are not quite the same. We are relaxed around each other, we laugh, we watch cheesy TV together, I still cry at the sad bits and she still calls me a cry-baby. But essentially, something has understandably been lost. I wonder whether we're marking time until one of us finds someone else, or whether things will settle down and I'll come to the conclusion that nothing will happen for me on the sex front, and she ends up happy or at least content with the status quo. Again, who knows?
What I do know is that we're one of the rare couples who are still together a year on despite everything. And that's a good thing. In the next post, I'll write more about Paul and the re-emerging trauma.
This is another short post to send you all an apology to all my readers for not posting these last weeks. I will start again. To be honest, I have been going through some tough times myself and trying to make sense of my feelings and wondering what the next steps should be.
My feelings are unclear and my issues surrounding the assault are still preventing me from really connecting with anyone on more than a superficial level. I would like to go further, but for the moment, intimacy on any level is not going to happen. Maybe my standoffishness is why I get hit on all the time… No idea.
Anyhow, that's one reason why I haven't written recently. The other is that I didn't think anyone was reading this. I'm not all that good at SEO and this exercise has also been for me to get my head straight.
OK. I will start writing again. I do have stuff to tell you, I guess. Some of it is embarrassing, so I'll need to get the courage to tell you. Other stuff is what you would expect.
If you have found these posts helpful, just post a quick comment. Even something as trivial as “I'm here” would show me that someone is out there listening.
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.
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.
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.
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.
