“You’ve got to talk to your husband.”
I was in total disbelief.
“This is impossible,” I protested.
“We’re both monogamous.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.”
It took a few more days of wrenching confrontation for our marriage to disintegrate.
“I don’t know how this could have happened,” he stammered.
But I kept quiet and thought, I’ve held up as long as I could.
And I am done.
I was 30 years old when this happened, and Chris and I had been married for 11 years.
We looked like the perfect family in our Christmas card portrait.
Both of us grew up in the small-town South, and Chris was in the military.
But that film only scratched the surface of their wives' miserable experience.
I wanted to scream: “It is such a lie!
Don’t do it!”
I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
That means there are a large number of women who have no idea what their husband does in secret.
Because I’ve lived it all.
There are so many obvious questions for a wife like me: Didn’t I realize he was gay?
Did I ignore red flags?
And if I had suspicions, why didn’t I confront him earlier or divorce him?
I suppose I was always suspicious, but I was in denial.
I didn’t think there was anything wrong with being gayI have an openly gay cousin.
And I didn’t care what went on behind others' closed doors.
I was a 19-year-old college freshman in Kentucky when I met Chris.
I was also pleased that we had a similar religious upbringing.
I grew up going to a Methodist church, and I’ve always had a strong Christian faith.
Two unusual things happened on our first date.
After we watched the movieRomancing the Stone, Chris said, “I think I could marry you.”
I was speechless, wondering if I was living in a romance novel.
In fact, I had heard other students say that everyone in his fraternity was gay.
I decided to take Chris at his word.
Besides, he’d taken a girlmeout on a date, so how could he be gay?
We immediately started seeing each other exclusively.
He refused to explain why; I was distraught and confused.
A few weeks later, over the holidays, we met to talk.
I accepted on the spot.
It was a dream come true.
I also had a stubborn streak, which I practiced as a child and maintained throughout our marriage.
I was determined to make our relationship work.
I wanted to show Chris that I would stick with him through everything.
He refused, explaining that he respected me too much and that sex had ruined his previous relationships.
In premarital counseling, we told the minister that divorce didn’t fit with our values.
After all, what man wouldn’t jump into bed with his fiancee?
The next morning, we decided to start our marriage on the right footby going to church.
We had sex that afternoon.
I missed the intimacy I was certain other married couples had.
I also expended a lot of energy trying to keep Chris interested in sex.
Questions about Chris’s sexual preference didn’t disappear.
I was stunned, and I can’t remember what I said in reply.
I defended him to others, but our marriage was often tense.
It didn’t help: Chris became even more distant, and he started drinking heavily.
It’s easy to say I should have left him, but the choice wasn’t so simple.
That thin fantasy crumbled on my oldest son’s third birthday, well before my chlamydia diagnosis.
That day, I caught Chris hiding cash in a desk drawer.
“What are you doing?
What is the money for?”
He said he was trying to sort out confusion about his sexuality.
Are we going to counseling?
Is this something you’re going to pursue?"
He repeated, as before, that he was committed to our family.
I desperately wanted to believe him.
If anyone found out that Chris was gay, he could be fired.
Chris feared that coming out would invalidate him as a human beingand might even send him to hell.
Then came my fateful visit to the obstetrician and Chris’s confession.
I took off my wedding ring but blamed it on swelling from pregnancy.
I felt like such a chump.
In church, the children and I sat in the front row as Chris played the organ.
It was the worst time of my life.
During my first SSN meeting, I sat in the corner and cried the entire time.
At least I knew I wasn’t alone.
When your husband wants another man, it denies your entire being.
We soon started dating, which, astonishingly, infuriated Chris.
In the town I’m from, leaving a homosexual husband was too scandalous.
They urged me to stay in the marriage, regardless of what it cost me emotionally.
My soul mate and I got married the year after our divorces became final, when I was 34.
My kids accepted him very quickly, and we later adopted a child together.
And making love with him leaves me feeling like the most gorgeous creature on earth.
My relationship with Chris is as good as it can possibly be, given the circumstances.
I now know that you might recover from an experience that shakes your identity to the core.
Somehow, I’m an even stronger person because of the pain I endured.
Photo Credit: Plamen Petkov
