The Outing

About a month ago, I informed my parents that Jay and I would be getting a divorce.  Let’s just say – they didn’t take it well.  I didn’t tell them that Jay is gay.  I just told them it was amicable.  Since then, I have endured their comments, accusations, and their shame due to their assumption that the end of my marriage was my fault.  It hurt.  Really bad at times.  I didn’t admit how bad to anyone.  But, I was protecting Jay.  Even though I don’t love him the way I thought I did (I’ll explain in a moment) I do love him.  He’s part of me.  He always will be.  He’s the father of the children I adore.  He’s been with me through everything I’ve been through and a few of those times were very hard.  He stayed here through his coming-out process while he was trying to figure out what he wanted to do.  He didn’t just up and leave me alone like he could have.  And he wouldn’t ask me for a divorce even to this day if I hadn’t asked for one first.

A couple of good friends convinced me that I couldn’t endure my parents torture anymore.  Jay never asked me to protect him.  He was tired of watching me hurt and said one time, “Just tell them you married a fag and get it over with!”  I still refused.  But, after careful consideration I decided that outing my soon-to-be ex-husband couldn’t make things any worse.  So this morning, I grew some balls and drove the 30 miles to my parents’ home to spill my guts.

They were shocked.  They apologized.  They didn’t ask many questions but I’m sure they will once they have time to think about things.  They said they don’t understand but they want me to be happy.  They want Jay to be happy.  The situation went much better than I had anticipated.  I apologized for not trusting them enough to tell them the information in the first place.  They were saddened by the fact that I have been going through this alone for two years.  But what I wanted to tell them was that I haven’t been alone.  I wanted to tell them that for the last six months I have been seeing the most amazing man who I’m terribly in love with.  That he has changed my life.  That I have been unfaithful to my gay husband and I’ve fallen head-over-heels in love with this man.  That I’m planning a future with him.  And that I’m learning what it feels like to really be in love.

Make no mistake about this – my love for Jay is genuine.  I know that.  And I know it will never end.  But looking back on our relationship, I now recognize that my love for him is not and perhaps never was romantic love.  I wanted him.  I desired him.  But, it seems like there was always something missing.

That missing ingredient was passion.  We never had passion.  We had love, mutual respect, commitment, and friendship.  But, I never knew we were lacking passion.  I now think that passion is created by desire.  He never desired me.  He loved me and that love was enough for him to be able to make love to me, make me happy, make me feel good.  But, words can’t explain the difference in sex when there is no passion, and sex when there is tons of passion.

So, I’ve found what I’ve been missing.  I’ve fallen in love -quite possibly – for the first time in my life.  I know God put me and Jay together for a purpose.  We have two amazing kids.  We’ve had an amazing, happy life together that is not ending – just changing.  I think I’m here to help him travel this difficult road he’s started walking down.  But, I’ve fallen in love with a man that I feel I was made for.  My heart belongs to him.  I want to spend the rest of my life making him happy.  I want him to take care of me.  I can’t live without him.  I don’t want to.

What’s amazing to me is that at the age of 34, I’m just now having these feelings about a man.  I didn’t feel like this with Jay.  My relationship with Jay was always comfortable.  We were friends.  Friends who loved each other.  Who still love each other.  Things came easy.

So my days are spent daydreaming about another man.  My nights are filled with desire to be lying next to him.  My heart feels like it’s exploding with love for him.  When I see him, I can’t wait to touch him.  I can’t wait to have my lips on his.  When I sleep in his bed, I feel safe and at home.  I miss him as soon as we part.  I adore him.  I watch him sleep – thanking God for putting him into my life.  Believing with heart and soul that we were made for each other and it just took us so long to find one another.

I wouldn’t change my past, and neither would he.  Because we both have wonderful kids  that we live for.  But I’m very excited about my future with him.  Looking forward to loving him and his children with all my heart.  Looking forward to everything that comes along with building a life together – from the boring, mundane, and ordinary tasks to the fun and exciting and intimate times we are sure to share.  I love him.  It sounds so simple.  But it means the world.  It means the entire world.



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6 responses to “The Outing

  1. WOW. That was quite a post.

    The strange thing is that what you write about the difference between good sex and sex that rises like a new creature out of passion, I could have written myself. I tried to, but couldn’t quite bring myself to say it in so many words.

    Not so strange: I hope my ex-wife shares your experience someday soon.

    Then maybe we can make peace. So far it’s still a truce only, and the flags are all still flying…

    I hope your “coming out” to your parents helps ease the way forward with the other things you will eventually have to tell them. You’re a brave woman, and I wish you and yours all the best.


  2. I am sooo happy for you. I hope that your future is filled with love and laughter and passion.

  3. Donny

    I wonder if you will post this. Unlikely. You chose never to post my comments. Nevertheless, here goes: A world of illusions.

  4. Tom

    A: I read Jay’s blog and I wish you both success in maintaining a friendship/relationship… I do, however, feel his pain…


  5. WOW is the word! I did the same thing. I protected my ex. I protected my ex from my family for months. I later told them and my mother still thinks it is my fault and should have stayed because it is “not that big of deal.” He “took care of me” so why should it matter. I definately protected him from HIS family. If they do not know already, they may never know. B/c I still loved him and I could not stand to see him parade with all his friends while I lost most of the ones we had together AND keep my silence, I moved five states away. I am not ashamed of him, but the burden of that secret was too much to bear on my own.
    It is hard to be in love on your own, isn’t. I too had to be wanted and loved by another man to really give me the strength to leave. I feel you.

  6. Anonymous

    Thank you for posting this and how you were able to find love again. My relationship with my gay ex has been similar to this. I am trying to accept that what we had wasnt what I really wanted. We were friends, we were comfortable too…. But I am afraid that I will never have real love. its so hard to explain. But thank you for giving me hope.

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