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I'd encourage all forum members & visitors to check out this excellent thread:
"How when he's been caught watching men masturbate can he still deny that he's sexually attracted to men? Somehow I was the one that was cold. I was the one that didn't want sex. Do they truly believe their own stories?. I say I want a divorce and he says he's not ready, we haven't tried hard enough. Please please please tell me I'm not crazy."
I was thinking about this post and it hit me: some men identify as heterosexual emotionally while they are almost exclusively gay sexually. (Gunther is this a form of schizophrenia or perhaps split personality syndrome?) After years or even decades in the closet, I believe that a gay-in-denial husband simply cannot accept that he might be gay both emotionally and sexually. Why? The fear and self-hatred are just too deep. Saying, "I'm gay" is simply too raw and painful, particularly when coming out involves making the admission to a wife we married to hide our true sexual identity.
When a straight spouse asks: "Are you gay?" the common responses are:
1. Denial: "No I'm not gay. I love you."
2. Deflection: "Why are you snooping around my phone and tablet?"
3. Attack: "I'm having sex with men because you're [too sexually demanding, not sexually demanding enough, too fat, too tall, too agressive...blah blah blah]."
4. Partial Honesty: "Maybe I'm bisexual."
Imagine the level of denial it takes to say, "I'm not gay" even in the face of overwhelming proof. When a husband hasn't had sex with his wife for years ("It's my back"), is constantly on gay porn ("I'm just curious"), messages men on Craigslist ("Again curious"), and even hooks up with men ("I have sex with men because of you"), his sexuality is clearly gay because straight men don't do these things. But he continues to identify as heterosexual because he's lived this lie all his life and isn't ready to deal with consequences such as divorce, a broken home, and having to come out.
There comes a point when she just stops believing him and his lies. It often happens after finding yet another hook up text message, yet another Craigslist account, or perhaps she finds more sex toys and flashy underwear. This is when she'll likely say: "I'm unhappy and have been for years. I know you're gay and that you'll probably never admit it. But it no longer matters because this is what I'm going to do about it."
So what's my point? It's time to focus on the facts and his actions rather than his fictional spin. If he's no longer having sex with you, but has gay sex online, or real sex with men, your husband's sexuality is gay. Yes he might want to be a straight husband, but he isn't. Ask yourself this: is it love when the relationship means spending the rest of your life in a sexless marriage based on lies and emotional abuse? Probably not.
Many of us tried to bargain with reality. I did. I tried marriage counselling. Others have tried mixed orientation marriages which to me sound a lot like, "I now get to openly screw men while still married to you." Some wives accept an open marriage or even having the kind of sex he wants. My wife offered me a bargain: we both remain celibate for 12 years until our youngest was 18, then divorce. Bargaining is part of the process. I say try to work it out for 2-3 months. Most often, the gay thing simply doesn't go away. After a few months, if the relationship remains sexless, emotionally abusive, and he continues to lie, then perhaps it's time to move on. From what I've read here, he'll probably spend the rest of his life in the closet. But you don't have to stay in that closet with him. The world is simply too big and life is too beautiful for you to stay locked in his dark place. It's time to break free.
I hope that helps in some small way.
Last edited by Séan (June 20, 2017 12:54 pm)
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Sean, I appreciate the above post SO.MUCH. It really is the entire gay thing in a nutshell, all in one post.
Kel
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Sean-how do I send a private message? Thank you!
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Hi deservethetruth. Just click my name and then 'send message.'
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Deleted
Last edited by Duped (November 11, 2019 3:06 pm)
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deservethetruth,
If you haven't posted enough, I don't believe you can send private messages. If you can't, keep posting. Shouldn't take long.
Kel
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Thank you Sean. That is a very thought provoking post. I believe you are absolutely right. He can't accept the idea that he is sexually attracted to men, so I get every excuse instead.
-i never watched it
-must have been a virus that followed all those men
-i watch women too
-i was sexually abused as a kid
On and on and on....
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Thank you Kel, Bec, Duped and Deservethetruth for posting. I have a question for the kind members here: how did you detach from your abusive gay-in-denial husbands? I read a lot of posts that go something like this:
"I cry myself to sleep most nights. I'm in therapy for depression and anxiety. Just yesterday, yet again I caught my gay-in-denial husband watching gay porn. Then I found his text messages and Craigslist search history so clearly he's cheating on me with men while lying about it. He still claims he's straight. But he's still my guy and I love him."
I referred to these kind of posts as "he only beats me on Wednesdays" denial. What I meant is that many straight spouses who first start posting here are often still hiding, defending, and denying how abusive their GIDHs have been for years...if not decades. Many still cling to the idea that their husbands are straight, even in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. Is this a kind of battered wife syndrome ( )? I look forward to reading your opinions.
I'd like to hear from you how you detached, separated, and divorced your GIDH (or GIDW). I think your stories will help many straight spouses break free from their own abusive relationships. Thanks in advance for sharing my friends.
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Very thought-provoking post, Sean. I do think the process of realizing a spouse is GID and then defending him/her does have a lot in common with the battered wife syndrome. Your attached link is pretty straightforward about that. It's almost unimaginable to come to terms with the fact that someone we loved was hiding something so essential about him/herself. I'm in a stage (not sure if it's a stage or not) of viewing my ex as a stranger. If I never knew something as core to his identity as the fact that he is gay, then I believe I just never knew him, at all.
How did I detach? I didn't like that word at all, for the longest time. I kept asking, "Can we still be friends?", just like many others here have done. I kept reading, here on SSN, "Detach, detach, detach". After seeing that suggested by many respected members, here, I wondered if it might help. I was in such soul-wrenching pain. I had to do something.
I decided to detach, "for now". From my place as a spouse in shock, detaching "for now" seemed to be a baby step I could handle, at the time. That detachment was helped along by the fact that my husband chose to go on a vacation with his new crush, instead of taking one of our sons on a promised trip. That glaring selfishness opened my eyes. I had never felt like a battered wife; my ex had been a gentle husband, for decades. One of my sisters is a battered wife. No matter what we do to try to get her away from her husband, she defends him. She doesn't see her husband the way the rest of us do.
Seeing my ex choose his crush over his struggling son, that was one of the last straws for me. We were still married, at that time; up to that point, I still thought we could somehow work out our marriage. I still felt very defensive of him. I still called him a good, good man. I called him a good, good man, even after he had an affair. I called him a good, good man, even as he hid his passwords from me and made a list of things I could do to improve our marriage. (It would have been a great list, if he hadn't been gay. No amount of improvement on myself would have changed the fact that he is gay). I had moments, for months after our separation, where I still wondered if divorce was the best choice or not.
I wasn't very good at the detaching thing, at first. It was a painful process. I started to notice that the more detached I became, the more I came out of the severe shock I'd been in. As that happened, I started to realize how unhealthy our marriage had been. All the signs I'd missed (& many were quite subtle) began to become clear to me. My list of red flags that I missed gets longer and longer. Only through some space and time to think for myself was I able to start seeing all those flags that were always there. Most were tiny red flags, but a flag is a flag! If any of our spouses had been obviously and openly gay, we wouldn't be here, as straight spouses. There are always red flags. It just takes a clear and detached perspective to see them.
I like the phrase "for now". When I was struggling with the thought of divorce, a counselor said, "Nothing is permanent. If somewhere down the road, you decide this was a mistake, you could get back together, again." I'm divorced, now. It wasn't a mistake. My children and I have struggled immensely, but I am starting to see such growth and healing.
I still wonder if, some day, my husband and I might become friends. For now, I'm not ready. For now, I know that our interactions are unhealthy. For now, I stick to text or email, only. I can't handle a phone call or speaking, in person. If there are events for the children, I just focus on them and always have a plan to not sit near or facing my ex. For now, I'm just not ready for that.
My ex texted me, yesterday. It was a long text, saying he misses his family. I texted back that he could suggest a schedule change to consider, for time with the children. He never did come up with a suggestion. He texted back, today. I didn't answer, quickly, as I once would have. Actually, I didn't text him back, for about 4 or 5 hours. He was saying things like, "You don't care about me" & "I miss my family". I had just read an article about how some people choose to wear the mask of "woe is me". His texts seemed to fit into that category. A good friend from this site (Thanks, Jen) gave me some good objective input on the text conversation. My ex calmed himself down, after a long string of texts. Because I didn't respond, the emotions did not escalate. It was good I didn't engage in the conversation. Interestingly, he never did come up with a suggestion for a schedule to give him more time with the children.
Immediately post-disclosure, I felt like I was in a terrible movie, where my ex and I were the main characters. Now, I feel like my ex is still in a movie, but I'm no longer in his movie, and his character is someone I don't know. I have no idea what his future holds. I hope he finds healing and peace. That would be better for him and better for our children. Every once in awhile, I hope he stays miserable, as he's caused such damage. However, that doesn't help our children, and his feeling horrible doesn't really help me heal, anyway.
If nothing else is working for you, try detaching...for now.
Last edited by jkpeace (June 21, 2017 1:23 am)
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jk,
I'm so glad to see you back on the forum, even if you're at the point where you're dipping in and out. Your sane and measured voice and compassionate but tough stance and advice is something that has both pushed and steadied me in the course of steering my own way through the aftermath of my husband's disclosure he wanted to become a woman.
I'd like to say that what you said about watching your husband choose his crush over your son resonated strongly with me. I think there is definitely a process in detaching, and that moment of clarity, where you see and/or hear your spouse make a choice or reveal a mindset that is so starkly unmistakeable in its implications, is an important step or stage in the process. For me, another important element in detaching was to get some physical distance, to get out of the situation for a bit so I could look at it with new eyes.
It seems to me that at first, after our discovery or the disclosure, we are reeling, as if in the center of a whirlwind, shocked, and watching from a still place as our lives spin out of control around us. We can't slow the whirlwind down, we can't see into it clearly, we call out to our spouses but they aren't there standing by our sides. Alone in the center of this whirlwind, we begin to slowly revolve in a circle, looking and seeing moments of our past as they whirl past with new eyes, wondering or recognizing if what happened ever really happened as we thought it did, or reinterpreting what happened and what we are seeing.
At some point, the whirling slows, or we hear the call of our children and others who need us or require our presence, and we walk back out into our lives, shocked at the wreckage, or like sleepwalkers in a landscape we pick our way through, all the while trying to hold the lives of our children together.
Maybe the necessity of the everyday anchors us; the necessity of the everyday often feels like an intolerable burden, but it also helps us begin to realize again who we are, allows us to see we have a place in the world other than as spouse/partner. And as we begin sorting through the rubble and picking up the pieces and getting on with the necessity of our lives, we start asking ourselves about our partner's actions. How could s/he have done this? The glimpses of our past that whirled around us come back more clearly this time, but now we are beginning to ask questions or see them in a new light.
And then the partner does or says something in the present that connects past and present, and there is a moment of clarity after which we know that bargaining with ourselves or the universe to save our marriage and/or return us the partner we loved is not only useless or a fiction but not what we want (and deserve).
In my case, maybe because I had 33 years invested in my marriage, it took several such moments of clarity. The latest of these occurred when my husband made it clear that it was a priority for him to clear space in the summer for him to see his sister, with whom he has always been very close (in fact the letter he wrote to her about his decision that he was transgender was far more nuanced and thoughtful and far more sensitive to her feelings than the way he told me), but it was not a priority for him to spend any time with me. Last summer, when I traveled out of town to a family event, I realized that if I were to tell any of the women in my family my situation, they would all say "What are you waiting for? Get out of that situation." When last fall I decided that I needed some time alone and some physical distance from the crossdressing, my husband said to me, "I'll use this time alone to think about what I want from you."
All these incidents, and more, added up to a portrait of a marriage in which my husband did not think of us a couple but of himself first, with me as an afterthought or someone who could enable or be of use to him. Despite my hurt, the shock, the bargaining, the fear of a future alone, I have come to realize that this is not marriage as I want it, but it was our marriage as it has been and is and would continue to be if I were to stay in it. I now see how over the years I've done a lot of making excuses or explaining things away, or rationalizing his behavior and upbraiding myself for being overly sensitive or having unreasonable expectations (all of this "spackling," in chump lady's terms). And although my husband would like me to accept his new state of transness and stay married to him, I have realized that I can't--and it's not just because of the demands of accommodating his desire to be treated as and to act as if he were a woman but because I have seen that he is incapable of seeing himself as a partner in a marriage or of treating me as one.
Last edited by OutofHisCloset (June 21, 2017 5:49 am)