Married Eighteen Years - Then Coming Out of the Closet

I grew up in a small town and I was taught that my goals in life were to find a good husband, have 2 children, and maintain a career at the same time. Those were lofty goals in many ways, but all the more difficult when I had a secret. At the age of sixteen I wasn't outwardly that much different from other girls in my high school. I liked the video arcade (it was the eighties!) and I had a boyfriend. I was lucky enough to have my own car even if it wasn't the most beautiful thing in the world. I had some good friends. I went to church and taught Sunday school to elementary school children. Inwardly, I felt off balance all the time but I had no idea why. I struggled with depression, though I maintained the image of the "class clown" to my friends whenever possible. I developed extremely close friendships with certain friends and felt devastated when small fights caused rifts in those relationships. I was also taught to "put on a good face" for the world, though, and I did my best to please my parents and my community.

I left for college at eighteen with the intention of becoming a sociologist, finding that good husband, and create an "American Dream" life. I felt a new sense of promise in leaving my hometown to live on my own. My university required dorm life for freshman students, so I moved into an all-girl dorm that fall semester. I made friends fairly quickly and I hung out with an eclectic bunch of boys and girls. I found a church that was similar to the one I'd attended back home and joined up right away. I scoped out the young men that I met, already searching for the one that could make my dreams come true. Many girls my age wanted to party and go to clubs, but at first I felt no draw toward that. It was alien to me. While I had indulged in a few "heavy-sessions" with boys, I was still very much a virgin and the girls in my dorm found that hilarious when I told them. In spite of my religious affiliations, I don't remember feeling any huge commitment to remain chaste -- my situation had evolved more out of fear. I do remember being quite afraid of getting pregnant or catching some disease. I managed to hook up with a couple of young men within a few days of my first college days, though none seemed like the settle-down types.

Within a month of starting school, I met a young man at church who was five years older than I. He had beautiful brown eyes and he seemed gentle and kind. He was the type of guy who would go get you a taco at one in the morning if you told him you just had to have one. He also invited me to go horseback riding on our very first date. School had started in August, and by October we'd decided to get engaged. I honestly don't know if I loved him or not at that point, but I thought he could be a wonderful friend and that gentleness that bordered on what I felt with a girlfriend was still there. It seemed like a match to me, and I just wanted to get the search part over with and get on with that American dream thing. We announced our engagement to our families in November, which dismayed both since they felt that we were a little young and hadn't known each other very long. My family loved Kenneth, though, so they soon got excited about planning a wedding. They didn't have long to plan, though. Something inside me kept telling me that it wasn't going to work and I got cold feet. In December, I broke off the engagement and told him that it was too difficult to even see him because I was so confused. In his typical sweet manner, he backed away and gave me time. He told me he wasn't going anywhere. He told me he wouldn't be with any other girls. (That turned out to be true, but not for the reasons that I thought.)

We stayed apart until June and during that time I just kind of lost it. I stopped going to church. I hooked up with girls that I hadn't hung out with before and I started to try the bar-hopping scene. I took to it like the proverbial fish and unfortunately drank like one too. It dulled my emotions and seemed to help. I dated a series of other guys that I met at school and often went so far as to get things quite intimate before I would panic and dash out. I left behind a string of angry young men. I did think about Kenneth, but I also thought a lot about what was causing me to feel this way. I couldn't pin it down. I missed his nurturing companionship. I was afraid of being alone. When he finally gave up and came to my house in June, I easily agreed to go out. That night I told him that I did want to marry him, but I didn't want to go through the whole announcement and engagement thing again. I wanted to do it quickly and quietly and then just get the house and picket fence.

Kenneth seemed to need the same things that I did, so we went to the courthouse and got the papers done. We still had only been intimate in a superficial way and amazingly, we realized soon enough that we were truly the first for each other. Perhaps that isn't as rare now as it was then, but among my friends it was certainly not common. We found a preacher who didn't ask too many questions and we invited only a few friends - not even family members. I'm not sure what I was hiding from. I just need that I had some sort of secret and I felt the need to preserve it, so I began to keep more secrets. Soon, we were married. I was nineteen. Still, things went well at first. He remained patient with me although physically I found it difficult to be close and giving. I wanted to continue with my mad plan of rushing through life, so we did try to have children. I tried to get pregnant for a year though the whole process wasn't really great for either of us. I felt bad for Kenneth. He deserved better. He didn't really complain, though. After a year of trying and failing, we applied to adopt.

I felt somewhat relieved about the prospect of adopting. It freed me from some of those marital obligations, other than feeling bad for Kenneth. Finally, I quietly told him that maybe something was wrong with me. Maybe I was frigid or whatever it was called. Maybe I just wasn't built right. He was genuinely worried that I had a medical problem and he begged me to go to a doctor, but I was terrified to be touched like that and I refused. What I did do was to tell my new husband that it was okay with me if he sought outside companionship for those physical needs. He was shocked at first and promised that it wouldn't happen. Eventually, it did happen, but it was kind of a silent partner in our marriage. We didn't talk about it. The adoption process took some time, but we were also willing to adopt children that fit into a category that was sometimes harder to place. The agency called us one day and told us that they had not just one child for us, but two! They were siblings who both needed a family. We hadn't planned on two and I was scared to death, but we signed the papers anyway. By the age of twenty-one I was a mother of two girls.

The next several years were busy and this might have been a saving grace for me in my confused state of mind. The demands of raising children helped keep me from letting myself sink into fits of depression. Taking care of kids also took up so much time that Kenneth and I were both tired. We watched television together, we ate together, we talked about finances and we even often slept in the same bed. We were like most other couples in most ways. We didn't touch each other physically, however, from the time our children joined our lives. I was 34 years old before something happened to cause another major shift in our lives.

The children were now young teens and developing lives of their own. That was when I met Violet. A friend of Kenneth's told us that his sister was in an abusive relationship and desperately needed to get out and have someplace to live that the ex wouldn't look for her. Violet was only 18 years old and had moved in with a high school boyfriend who was incredibly possessive. He'd been beating Violet regularly and she was ready to get out before they had children together or something terrible happened to her. Kenneth's friend knew that we had a guest room and asked if Violet could stay with us. The boyfriend knew all of her family members and they needed to have her somewhere that he'd never look. They hoped that a little time passing would cool that heat and allow the girl to rebuild her life.

Violet moved in. She was a stunningly gorgeous young woman who could easily pass for someone in her mid-twenties. She was quiet but had a great sense of humor and our kids loved her. One night we all sat watching television together and Violet and I were sharing the couch. My back had been hurting all day and I kept shifting uncomfortably. I had regular back and stomach pain during that time. As we started to watch the ten o'clock news, Violet told me to turn my sore back to her so she could rub it. Kenneth went to make sure the kids were getting settled into bed. He poked his head back in just to say that he was exhausted and was going on to bed. He always slept like a rock and I'd been a lifelong insomniac, so it didn't bother him if I got up and down during the night.

Violet was so sweet and soothing and I felt something melt inside me that had felt frozen all my life. She whispered in my ear to relax while she massaged the knots out of my sore neck. Before I knew what was happening, things moved on. I spent most of that night with Violet but went to bed in the morning before Kenneth got up to go to work. I went to classes during the day and had a part-time job at the school, so I was always home way before he was. Violet worked evenings and weekends as a waitress in a classy restaurant where the tips were good. That gave us afternoons together, and often my insomniac nights began to become convenient. Some part of me did feel a little bad and another part felt scared. The guilt was a small thing because by then I was well aware that Kenneth had some things going on outside our marriage. It was understood and unspoken. I also felt odd about the age difference between Violet and I, but that didn't seem a big deal at the time. The bigger problem I had was with the fear. What did this mean? I was having feelings that I had thought I wasn't capable of.

Things went on this way for a torturous four months. Then one day Violet told me gently that she was moving out. She'd met someone close to her age that she thought she could have a long-term relationship with. They'd decided to move in together. I was stunned. I had just assumed way too many things. I was crushed, and on top of that I had to try to hide it from Kenneth. I'm sure he noticed my fits of anger and depression that followed Violet's departure, and I still don't know what he thought. Once I'd passed that part, I felt relieved at first. My stomach and back problems had grown worse with the stress of all the secrets. Perhaps now I could go back at least to the way things had been before Violet. It didn't work.

I was plagued with thoughts about what this might really mean and what might have been if I hadn't married so young. And- what could still be. Still- how could I risk everything I had? The comfort and security of a home and a family- what if Kenneth didn't react well and tried to keep the kids away from me? I knew that Kenneth wasn't like that and the children were old enough to voice their own opinions. I was still afraid. Still, I couldn't stop thinking about it. It was Kenneth who finally pulled me aside.

"What's going on?" he asked. He knew that something was up. I tried to avoid the question but in the face of his cautious probing, I couldn't do it. I told him everything. I saw his face go through a series of stages. Surprise, then a little hurt, then understanding. I never saw anger. When I finished my story, he pulled me to him and hugged me close. He told me that it was all right. He told me that he'd always known we weren't like other couples though he hadn't understood why. He said that he was sort of glad to know that it wasn't just him. It was me. I was a lesbian.

I pulled back and looked at him and now I was shocked. Sure, I'd thought about it. Violet and I had never said the word to each other. We'd rationalized about two women in unusual situations who happened to need each other. Was I truly a lesbian? How could I be in my mid-thirties and have been married for all these years and still be a lesbian? Kenneth proceeded to give me another shocker. He told me that he'd realized he was bisexual years before. He'd seen both men and women on and off for the whole time, ever since I'd given him permission in those first strained years. Then he asked me what I wanted to do.

Nothing! I told him that I wanted things to go right on as they were. Perhaps I could see women like he saw people on the outside, but we could continue as we were. The kids didn't really need to know. Kenneth shrugged and said that we could try it. So, we did. I became involved in online gay chat rooms while he continued to have his outings 'with the boys' though perhaps a little more openly. I eventually dared to try a few dates with the women I met online. Some were temporarily gratifying and others were pointless. Many were frightened away instantly when they heard the words "I'm still married." For all practical purposes I remained completely closeted even while I finished my degree and dated by dark.

About a year or two after our internal coming-out talk, it was Kenneth who again turned the tables on me. He'd met someone. I was surprised to learn that it was another woman and amazingly, I was even a little jealous. He had been so understanding with me, though, and I swallowed the irrational feelings and dealt with them. Kenneth told me that he'd been seeing her for about nine months and that things had been okay at first, but they'd realized they were really in love. He wanted to marry her. I immediately thought of all the ways my world would end. My husband was leaving me. I would be alone and I'd just graduated from college after years of part-time classes. I had no job yet. What would I do? How could I support the children?

Kenneth helped every bit of the way and his friend turned out to be a sweet and understanding woman who also genuinely cared about things going okay. They both helped me find an apartment of my own and Kenneth voluntarily provided me significant financial support until I found a good job. The children lived with them but stayed with me on weekends. As they developed their own lives and I became financially independent, we just drifted apart. I was still terrified, but I didn't feel so sure that things would never be okay. The divorce was finalized and I went home and wept and drank a bottle of wine by myself. I got online and started to wander into one of my chat rooms and I just didn't feel like it. So, instead I went to a Buddhist forum where I'd regularly corresponded with people and wrote a response to a post there. I was in the middle of it when my computer chimed at me to tell me that someone wanted to instant message me. I answered it warily, hoping it wasn't one of the online creeps who sometimes trolled for women online. My profile identified me as female, as interested in Buddhism and told some of my hobbies.

The instant message was from a woman who'd just discovered the forum and she wanted to talk about something I'd posted regarding the Dhammapada. We chatted about eastern philosophy until well into the night. I stumbled into bed exhausted but happy that I'd found a friend. I had to be at work early the next morning, but I didn't really mind. After work I rushed to the computer and logged on. She was online. I messaged her and we chatted about all sorts of things. She told me that she lived in a neighboring city and wondered if we could have coffee to talk more. She wanted to be safe about it -- the internet creeps had bothered her too -- so we'd meet somewhere very public. I agreed.

Jan and I met a few days later and we hit it off immediately. I felt nervous around her. She was thirty and beautiful and I was afraid that she would not want to be my friend when she learned a single thing about all my dark secrets. We chatted for a bit when she cleared her throat and stopped talking. Her eyes went off to look at the menu and I knew something was wrong. She'd somehow figured something out. She knew I was evil. She looked back at me and smiled nervously.

"Look," she said. "I think you are so fun but I don't feel right about one thing. I hate that it matters, but I should just tell you that I'm gay.

I stared at her. I didn't say anything. I saw her face light up with a blush and she began to apologize and act as though she might pick up her things and take off.

"No, wait!" I stopped her and tried to speak but tears welled up and I couldn't talk. She patted my shoulder and took my hand and led me outside. We went to her car and sat inside. I poured my story out. Every bit of it. The secrets, the fear, the guilt, the years I'd spent with a good man who was my best friend but couldn't be my mate, the children -- everything.

Jan moved in about six months later. We got together with my ex-husband and his wife who loved Jan, and we all began to play cards together once a week or so. My daughters just laughed when I tried to have "the gay talk" with them. They said it was no big deal and they'd kind of known anyway. I began to come out to others. I came out at work. I came out to my family. Sure, some of them had to go through an adjustment period, but to my amazement, they still cared about me for being me. My ex and his wife remained close to us and we do things together and argue like any other family. My stomach problems disappeared as I came out.

Granted, I'm not saying that it's always easy and maybe I make it sound that way. After so many years of fearing things that really weren't real, sometimes it seems divine that they didn't happen. But, yes, there are some hard times. An aunt of mine won't talk to me anymore and doesn't allow us in her home. A couple of my friends gradually drifted away after I told them, but I made other friends who were comfortable from the beginning. We deal with the same problems that most couples do, plus the additional fears that many gay couples face. We wonder how to face the trials of a relationship and some days we fight. We worry about what would happen if one of us needed medical attention and the doctors wouldn't listen to the other since we cannot marry. Jan is self-employed so she has no health insurance, but my company doesn't cover domestic partnerships. We've been together now for ten years and sometimes I feel like I've been reincarnated more than once in this same lifetime. My old 'lives' don't even seem real sometimes. But, my life is still good. I still have loving friends and family.

Yes, it can be done. You can be thirty or forty or even fifty or ninety and you can come out of the closet for the first time and survive it. Some ex-spouses will be willing to maintain a relationship like mine and others may not. But, even if things had not gone as well for me, I wouldn't trade for the way things were. The constant feeling of hiding something and the oppression of locking a part of myself away -- it definitely wasn't worth it for me.