Jennifer talks about honesty

The following is a message posted to the Internet Spouse Support List by Jennifer, who is the wife of Sean, a bisexual man. Jennifer and Sean are unusually open in their relationship, both in the candor with which they communicate with each other and the degree to which they allow each other freedom to have sexual relationships outside the marriage. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

I value honesty in close relationships as much as practically anything in the world. I cannot imagine being in the position either of lying to a spouse or having a spouse lying to me. I would choose to break up before I would choose that.

But. There are reasons and reasons for lying. Sometimes, there are even reasons that make lying a better thing to do than telling the truth. Sometimes there are reasons that make lying terrible, a tragedy, wrong, yet understandable, a bad compromise in a situation where there are no good options.

I, too, am disturbed by the number of people on spouse support and BMMA who seem so easy with deceiving their spouses. I am disturbed that this isn't treated as a bigger issue- that it seems to be an accepted norm, or at least something no one criticizes or challenges very often. In contrast, on the polyamory list right now, there is a debate about whether it is O.K. to have a sexual relationship with someone whose SPOUSE doesn't know about it, even if YOUR spouse is perfectly O.K. And many people are vehemently saying---if all partners involved don't know and give their O.K., not just verbally but emotionally, then you should not participate. This is the world I'd rather live in.

But. But I feel compassion for the bi/gay spouses who deceive, because they have been born into a world where part of who they are is socially unacceptable. That is a pretty good reason to hide. In a world where women aren't allowed to smoke, they might go on the roof and smoke in private (where their husbands can't catch them - as my grandmother did). In a world where blacks aren't allowed to learn to read, they might go read where no one will know. In a world where blacks and whites aren't allowed to love each other, they might keep their affairs secret. And in a world where men aren't allowed to love other men, and they then marry women and raise families, those men might end up loving other men in secret. It is not right for their spouses to be deceived. It is not right for them to have to hide a part of who they are in order to express it without enormous social and personal consequences. It is truly a tragedy. But it is a tragedy created by our culture; all of us are just caught in it, experiencing our own private pains because of it.

It is terrible that all these spouses are being deceived - and I do believe that they suffer, whether or not they know or guess the truth. I have seen the hollow eyes of some of the wives of men who "aren't out" that we know.

And it is terrible that these men are living out their sexuality in secret, furtive, distorted ways -- I have seen their hollow eyes, too, heard about the sadness in bookstores and reststop bathrooms and parks, in the bars and the one-night stands.

I'm not saying that individuals don't still have to make moral decisions -- they do.

But I guess I do put in perspective that these men are being forced by our culture to make a very cruel choice, from among very bad options. And that makes me feel somewhat compassionate about whatever they choose.

We all can just struggle through our own particular situations.

The real hope to me is that a generation or two from now, it will be different. Kids will grow up asking themselves whether or not they are gay, what they feel toward men and women, and will decide, in adolescence, what they want for their life...as they do with careers...and hopefully not so often find, in adulthood, parts of themselves that they left behind which then need to somehow be reintegrated into their adult selves/lives.

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[A BMMA husband responds to Jennifer's posting]

Jennifer,

You manage to convey the pain of disappointment and regret that you and all our wives feel, whether or not we, the husbands, have been honest with them. And at the same time you generously use your imagination to feel the loneliness and desperation and emotional shutdown that comes from denying, daily for many years, such a deep part of our selves.

As you say, we all can just struggle through our own particular situations. But what makes it harder is that we change as our lives change. Speaking for myself, it was easy to say No to opportunities for loving sexual encounters with men for the first 25 years of my marriage. I loved my wife, and sex was satisfying, but above all I was focused on being a father. It was only when the kids left school and left home that I found my marriage emotionally constricting.

I agree with you in looking forward to a freer time when "kids will grow up asking themselves whether or not they are gay and what they feel toward men and women, and will decide, in adolescence, what they want for their life...as they do with careers." But I don't expect that they will all find the choice an easy either/or between straight and gay. And even in that better world, many may outgrow their early decisions about sexuality, much as many will outgrow their decisions about careers.

It's true that social disapproval and adolescent peer pressure and family expectations are hard on a young man who is attracted to other men, but I don't think that "the culture" and "society" are simply at fault. You state the problem neatly: men "often find, in adulthood, parts of themselves that they left behind which then need to somehow be reintegrated into their adult selves/lives". What we want in our twenties and thirties may be very different from what we want in our forties and fifties and sixties, even apart from what society tells us we ought to want.

What makes the problem harder is that of course our wives change also as we grow older together. And the parts of themselves that they left behind, or brought with them, may make emotional freedom and emotional satisfaction harder for both husbands and wives.

Apart from this, I agree with everything you say.

Will

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[Nancy adds her own response to Jennifer:]

Jennifer,

Eight months ago, my husband of twenty-six years announced he was gay.

I wrestled with this confession. He was my husband, my lover, my best friend, my business partner.

For him this is good news. This man I love more than myself is finally free of a terrible weight that I didn't even know about. The pressure became so overwhelming that he attempted to end his life a year ago, in early summer, while out of town. I knew nothing of the attempt or the subsequent therapy until July. The change in him now is remarkable. He has found himself. He is relieved. This was an awful dilemma for him. He knew that he was destroying himself by trying not to act upon a deepening need. His fear was that his behavior, once acted upon, might be not only emotionally harmful, but physically dangerous as well. Fortunately, he found a very special man who was equally unhappy and more involved in career than lifestyle until the two met.

The bad news is that I now assume an equal weight. He found himself. I lost me. We married when I was 19, he was 22. We grew up with our children; now 18, 21 and 25.

He did a courageous thing in his admission. He knew he was destroying himself. His self-loathing was destroying our relationship as well. At the time I attributed the stress to business. I know better know. This experience has forced us to take long honest looks at our quarter century together.

He moved out. He came back, twice, and was immediately terrified. I guess he felt trapped. His leaving and returning was badly timed. He wasn't ready to come back and he knew it. So did I. There are some very strong religious issues involved as well, that served to both comfort and complicate our situation. He did what he had to do. In order for him to survive, for me to survive, and for us to not destroy one another for very different reasons, he had to break the heart of the only person he had ever truly loved.

He is now home. We are still married. We are trying to do what is best for both of us and for our children. We have much work to do. I am not a superwoman. I am not a heroine. I am only beginning to work through my own doubts and insecurities. He made the decision that the love that we have shared transcends all else. We were meant to live our lives together. I don't know if we are fooling one another or if we truly are very special. I must believe (for now) that is the latter.

I will never know his pain. He will never know how my heart continues to hurt. I was the happiest person I knew. Nothing threw me. That person is no more.

Gay jokes weren't funny before. They are even less funny now. Everything has double meanings for me: love songs, kisses on the screen, lovers arm-in-arm on the street. A part of me misses my naivete. I was, I thought, very tolerant of the choices of others. My tolerance has gone into hibernation, I am embarrassed to admit. Openly affectionate gay men on the street make me physically ill. Of course it's not their fault, but I somehow feel as though they have cheated me out of the most intimate part of my adult life.

Why am I telling you this? I find some comfort in thinking we now belong to a very elite club of couples who share our situation. I am grateful for competent therapists, both for him and for me.

I don't know where we will be in a week or a month or a year or when we have grandchildren. I do know that my heart still beats a little faster when he enters a room or drive up at night. The painful part is knowing there is a man out there who feels the same way. More painful is that there is someone else who has shared his days and nights with the love of my life. That man is not my competition. I did nothing to send my husband away. By his own admission, this had nothing to do with me or with us. To the contrary, this other man may well have saved the life of the one I love.

We are in a terrible and terrifying position. The mantra in our home for many years had been "There are no mistakes". That must hold true now. I am hoping we will all learn something from this experience.

Before July I was the happiest person I knew. Nothing threw me. This isn't self-pity...just my feeble attempt to get a grasp on reality, whatever that might be. I have no way of ever knowing what my husband must have gone through for the last 40+ years. I do know that he is truly relaxed and calm and seemingly no longer compelled to overreact or hide from the truth. I am genuinely glad for his relief.

I also know that my heart hurts, like nothing I've ever experienced. He is finally contented after those four decades. I am having a difficult time believing that I will ever get past this hurt. Am I going to take four decades to recover? Is this something one "recovers" from?

He is trying very hard to help me be all right. I am trying to understand his dilemma. We are both trying to be kind and loving. I understand more than I ever thought I could about levels of love. That's another story for another time perhaps.

Regards,

Nancy

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