[Carl comes to the Gay & Bisexual Married Men's Group in order to stay in touch with the gay side of himself; but he feels that his decision to stop being sexual with men has brought the reward of stability and happiness in his marriage.]
I was 13 years old. I was lying on my back on my bed and my best friend at prep school and I were talking. Suddenly, he rolled over on top of me and kissed me. The effect was so powerful, it took my breath away. Although I had dated girls for two summers and had gotten up the courage to kiss them too, this was different. In those first few seconds of intimacy with a boy, I experienced a bliss I had never known. For the next nine months, my friend and I had sex two or three times a day. I learned all the variations on giving pleasure to a male body. I tried sex in the shower, in the hot sun lying on top of a pile of hay and deep in the forest, under a pine tree. I had sex with other boys as well. And if I was hitchhiking and the driver wanted me to jerk him off, I did that too.
Sex with men was wonderful. I couldn't get enough of it. On holidays, I also continued to date girls. It never occurred to me in those early years that I was "homosexual". I figured that I was simply "sexual" and all kinds of sex felt good.
Unfortunately, the teachers at my school had a different opinion. They caught me in the act over and over again, and eventually I was discharged for "committing sodomy". I was told that having sex with boys was perverted, but being intimate with girls was normal. Reluctantly, I tried to stop my encounters with men. Grownups who were supposed to know about these things said that my homosexual experiences were just an adolescent phase. But, no matter how hard I tried to outgrow my interest in men, I could not end my obsession. I dyed my hair blonde and experimented with makeup at a time when this was considered totally outrageous behavior. I put on skintight jeans and cruised the downtown park at night. When men asked me to go for a ride in their cars, I was both scared and thrilled. Afterwards, I was disgusted with myself for giving in to my perverted desires.
In my second year of college, I took a medical leave of absence and started seeing a psychiatrist to cure my homosexuality. He, like the other "experts", thought I could outgrow my interest in men. From his perspective, I was experiencing a "delayed adolescence". My therapist was a kind and sensitive man. He helped me to understand the dynamics of my childhood abuse. My father had been constantly critical and often physically abusive; my mother had engaged in intimate rituals with me that were sexually and emotionally abusive. Through psychoanalysis, I was helped to understand that these experiences would create asexual ambivalence in anyone. Now that I knew the cause of my homosexual experimentation, I was supposed to give it up and become "normal".
I met a divorced woman with two children. She helped me to have my first experience with heterosexual intercourse. I felt triumphant. She and I slept together about 10 times. I never loved her and never felt a great deal of passion towards her, but I began to think about the possibility of getting married to some other woman and leading a normal life.
I had rented a spare room in this woman's apartment building and a young man who was the landlady's son had told me about his sexual exploits with a previous girl friend. I decided I wanted to meet her. When Jane and I first met, she was 18 and I was 21. She had a body like a Playboy bunny and the first night I chased her around the room, trying to caress her. She didn't respond. The second date was a trip to the beach. Our conversation was awkward. She wasn't coming on to me. I thought we probably would never see each other again.
So, in moment of abandon, I told her the truth. I explained that I had been having sex with men, had gone to a psychiatrist for a cure and was now trying to develop relationships with women. To my surprise, she responded with tremendous understanding and compassion. We saw each other every day for the next two months. I began to realize that she was a wonderful person, filled with love for her parents and friends. She was very kind to me and eventually, after I pursued her endlessly, we did have sex together. I asked her to marry me and after thinking it over she said yes. The wedding was in December. In March she became pregnant and I was now able to declare myself "cured". I was both married and about to become a father.
There were just a couple of little problems. I wanted to have sex all the time with Jane, but she wasn't enjoying it very much. She grew more and more depressed; I started looking longingly at men. I kept telling myself that I wasn't gay, but whenever we went out, I wanted to go to gay places where I would hold Jane's hand and act macho while cruising the other guys.
In hindsight, I realize that Jane understood on an intuitive level that I was still more attracted to men than I was to women, and that this was a turn-off for her. Jane probably would not have been able to acknowledge this understanding at the time since she was convinced that her lack of interest in sex was her own "frigidity". As our sex life got more and more strained, I used this as an excuse to take little trips to Provincetown where I would meet men and have one-night encounters. Eventually, I also started going out to gay bars one or two nights a week. Jane knew I was doing this. She even knew I was occasionally having sex with men. But because she thought this was at least partially her fault, she didn't object.
There was a period of several years where she accompanied me to gay parties and stood beside me while I flirted with (and often kissed) my men friends. She grew fond of these people and they adored her. Our best friends were a gay male couple. During this time, Jane also was secretly pursuing her own sexual experimentation. She eventually had an affair with a co-worker and discovered for the first time that with the right guy, she could get very turned on. For a year and a half, Jane had two intimate relationships - her marriage with me and her intense (and very sexual)affair with the worker. When I found out what was going on, I was devastated. Although I had sought out numerous sexual encounters with men during the marriage, it had never occurred to me that Jane might do the same. I felt betrayed by her secrecy and hurt that she had experienced better sex with her lover than with me.
We went to a marriage counselor and agreed that in order to save our marriage, we needed to stop any outside sexual activity. For the past 13 years, we have been faithful to this pledge. This doesn't mean that I have stopped being turned on by guys. I occasionally watch a male porn video and jerk off. I like looking through the International Male catalog. I have downloaded photos from the Internet. But I maintain a monogamous marriage.
I had never told our four children about my gay experiences and we agreed not to tell them about Jane's affair. (Our feeling is that it isn't fair to bring them into the midst of what would surely be a very confusing and upsetting situation. This is especially the case now since they are all married and living on their own.) I don't keep any secrets from my wife, but I try not to leave porno pictures lying around the house. When she does occasionally find a video or a magazine, she is upset. She understandably doesn't like being reminded that although we have a compassionate marriage, are each other's best friends and are committed to a lifetime relationship, there is this other dimension which is not ideal. Jane and I have sex about once a week. Occasionally it is a terrific thrill for both of us; often it is OK for me but not great for her; but it is never awful for either of us. We love each other too much to want to let difficulties with our sex life spoil the quite wonderful aspects of the rest of our relationship. I cope on a daily basis with the frustrations and temptations associated with living an exclusively heterosexual lifestyle while secretly wishing I could be more openly bisexual. I would prefer for my choices of movies, plays, restaurants and vacation spots to be gay oriented; my wife accepts a certain amount of this, but she often protests at participating in activities which remind her of our marriage dilemma. There are times when I am at a party, have had my two-glass-of-wine limit, and find myself talking to a very attractive gay man. I want to reach out and kiss him and maybe take him to bed. But I stop myself and walk away.
We all have to set sexual boundaries in our lives, whether we are gay or straight. My choice, like Jimmy Carter, is to "lust in my heart" but remain faithful to my wife. If I didn't love her so much, I might have chosen another course. But my marriage to her is too important. There are times when I am with her when I feel blessed. She is such a wonderful woman. So I willingly accept the choices I have made.