Bonnie Kaye’s Straight Talk: A Collection of Her Best Newsletters About Gay Husbands. Bonnie Kaye
Читать онлайн книгу.
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.