New Beginnings
When I stop to think about it, I realize that I must be one of the most blessed men on the planet.
At this writing, I have been married to the most lovely woman in the world for over twenty years. She has stuck with me through thick and thin. She's stayed at my side at times when I would have left me. She is my best friend. I enjoy the (all-too-rare) time we spend together, alone or otherwise. We have a delightful love life. Over twenty years ago, I vowed to cleave only unto here, so long as we both shall live. I have no intention of ever betraying that promise.
It has long been my belief that there should be no secrets in a marriage; that a secret is just the place that the enemy of our soul can grasp to twist and deform a relationship.
As should be self-evident by now, I know that my wife is
". . . a gift from God. I found out just how much of one about ten years ago.
"I had struggled with an attraction to men for a long time. While never acting out, it was something of which I was deeply ashamed. It was also the only secret I had ever kept from my wife.
"The time came when I could not keep it from her any more. I was scared to death that I would lose her; I knew that she loved me, but this was beyond the pale.
"I sat down and told her everything. To my everlasting joy, her response was not one of revulsion or rejection; it was 'I love you no matter what, and we'll get through this together.'
". . . It was Christ's love expressed through my wife that gave me strength to deal with this weakness. It is still (and always will be, I suppose) something I have to deal with; my "thorn in the flesh," if you will.
"My wife could have totally rejected me and rationalized it with a pseudo-biblical justification. She didn't condone any sin, but at the same time she accepted me where I was and prayed for me."
I wrote that four years ago. When I "came out" to my wife, I went to counseling at a local affiliate of Exodus International, thinking that they could help change me. I stopped going when the group sessions started seeming to be more of a voyeuristic experience than a help. I've since come to the conclusion that God can do one of two things: He can completely take away all my desires for a man, or He can give me the strength to overcome temptation. Either can glorify God; for whatever reason, He chose the latter for me.
Since then a lot has changed; our daughter graduated from high school, our two boys have grown, with the oldest entering high school this fall; we sold our house and moved to the greater San Antonio area, where we lived with my in-laws for six months; we moved into a rental home, then into another one a month later when the first one turned into a disaster zone(That's another story in itself). I've gotten my dream job working at the kind of place that I didn't believe existed in the real world (think dot.com, but with profit and a business plan). My wife has gotten what appears to be her dream job as well, teaching pre-AP Calculus at a school nearby.
One thing that hasn't changed, though, is that damnable thorn-in-the-flesh. And so I find myself, finally, staring this thing in the face. I've become extremely close friends with my team at work, so our conversations range far and wide; perhaps it was inevitable that this particular subject would be broached. It was during one of these conversations that I "came out" to both of them.
A couple of days later, I mentioned it to my wife. Her reaction was instant and surprising: she was furious!
I was truly taken aback by her reaction; I had expected nothing more than a "that's interesting, dear" type of remark. Over the next couple of days with some careful verbal digging and a bit of judicious prodding, I came to understand her response a bit better.
Trying to explain same-sex attraction to someone who is completely straight is not easy. It's like trying to explain sunlight to a blind man. It's simply impossible for her to understand; there is no commonality of experience. Intellectually, I think she can comprehend, but emotionally, It seems like she's thinking, "Well, just don't think about it!"
Add to that the difference in our personalities. Her way of dealing with an issue is to acknowledge that it exists, then put it behind her. My way of dealing with something is to talk it out, try to understand all the facets of the issue, so that I won't be caught off-guard by anything later. How do you talk things out with someone who doesn't want to talk about it?
I tried going online for some advice. Big mistake. Google "bisexual married man," and you'll get a lot of dating sites. There were a couple of forums that looked promising, but they ended up being places where the point was for the guy to get laid on the "down-low" while hiding it from a wife and family. Not what I was looking for.
I did finally find one article, written by Warren Throckmorton. He writes of a man that he knows "Jim," in the article), and in so doing, describes me to a "T".
The thing that bothers me more than anything is that I don't feel like I can talk with my wife about this anymore. She's been a bit distant and, well, short with me since we had our recent conversation. It's like she just discovered that I was a Cylon. I've always talked things through with her. In twenty years of marriage, this is the first time that I've hit a wall. And that scares me.
I am many things; one of those things is bisexual. Above all, I must be true to my convictions. They spring directly from the Bible: Love my wife as Christ loved the church, even giving Himself for it; love my children, raise them in the Lord, be a man of my word. On April 11, 1987, I promised to be faithful to my wife, for as long as we both were alive. That hasn't changed, and it's not going to.
Maybe I am a Cylon. But to paraphrase Col. Tigh, "I am a Christian. A husband. A father. . . Whatever else I am, whatever else it means, that's the man I want to be. And if I die today, that's the man I'll be."
