I have a similar reaction.

I had been married to my spouse for 32 years when he dropped his trans bomb.  I'm a bit more than two years from moving out, a bit less than two years divorcing (it will be two years in Nov).  I can't see or talk to my ex, or even hear about him, really, without it throwing me into a tailspin.  

My ex was my husband; then he told me he didn't want to be my husband but my wife.  I fell in love with a man; then he told me he believed he wasn't a man but a woman.  I was female and he was male, and his maleness was part of my love for him and central to my sexual love for him; then he told me he hated being male, and wanted me to make love to him as if he had a female body, and that he would make love to me as if he had a female body.  He believed I should be happy for him; I tried to be happy for him.  I was happy for him, but I was increasingly unhappy in myself, and my unhappiness was intolerable to him.  I tried to adjust my own behavior and sexuality for him; he expected immediate and unconditional acceptance, while continually pushing the boundaries of what he "needed" and needed from me.  And when I finally decided that I couldn't do or be what he wanted from me, and that the situation and his treatment of me was unacceptable, and wanted a divorce, his entitlement, resentment, anger, and sense of vicimization rose to ever higher levels. The three and a half years between his trans bomb drop and our divorce were traumatic ones, and I have not yet recovered nor am I yet healed. 

The trauma we experience is multifarious.  It's not just the sudden explosion or slow accretion of the truth of our spouse's sexuality, or the inevitable questioning of our entire lives together that follows, or the blow we suffer to our own sense of our sexuality and desirability and worth, or the too often cruel behavior we suffer at the hands of our spouses before, during, and after the revelation/admission, the callousness with which we were treated by a spouse who believed him- or herself entitled to lie to us and deceive us, often for decades.  It's all those things combined.  It's betrayal trauma, and betrayal on so many different levels, and affecting so many different aspects of our lives.  

Trauma is a strange beast; it advances and retreats, recedes and then rushes forward when something reminds us of the spouse who betrayed us, who pulled the rug out from under us and when we lost our balance and fell down walked away from us.  It can't ever be tamed, but we can erect fences, and put distance and time between it and us.  

 I believe my reaction to seeing my spouse is a self-protective mechanism.  It tells me that I need to take care of myself, that more time needs to pass and I need to do more work setting myself and my life to rights.  I do better when I don't see him or hear about him or think about him.  My ultimate goal is not to be able to engage with him again; it is to go forward in my life without letting reminders of that painful past upend me.  I think each of us has to decide what we can tolerate, what helps us, and erect our boundaries accordingly, setting aside any pressures that we might feel from cultural expectations or from others, however well-meaning they are.

 

Last edited by OutofHisCloset (July 26, 2020 8:06 am)

OOHC...My first thought to your posts is, "Holy Cow! She hit the nail on the head...again."

You have made so many points that are enlightening to me. I won't repeat your points, as you express yourself much better than I. Being able to see something that makes sense to me, in writing, is invaluable to me. You are truly gifted with written expression, along with insights that only another straight spouse might have. I am going to print your responses. They are already helping me, and I will continue to reread. Thank you from the bottom of my healing heart.

longwayhome,
    Thanks for your kind words.  I'm glad what I have to say here helps.  I have thought a lot about what contribution I can make to straight spouses, and for me, one-on-one talk, either here on the forum or as a volunteer for the SSN willing to speak to people on the phone, seems right for me.  For one thing, my ex is still in the closet, and we have a son (he's an adult, but he doesn't have the full truth about his father and I divorced), so coming out under my name as a straight spouse is not something I'm ready to do.  For forty years I taught a college course on the personal essay and worked one-on-one with students writing about their lives, so talking to people about their stories and experience is something I feel comfortable with, but I don't think I have the expertise or the desire to do the research I would find necessary to write a book, although some of my posts on the forum have attempted to lay out what I have observed over my three plus years on the forum as common reactions we have, and stages we go through.  I have written a memoir--not about my experience as a straight spouse--and a couple of essays on my experience as a straight spouse; one of them "Uncoupling," was published on the Straight Spose blog in November 2016 (I don't know if it's still there), the other I have not yet decided where to publish, and whether to publish it under my own name, partly because writing about trans issues can open one to online attacks these days, so I have to be careful about that (if you want to see that essay, private message me).  I've been up and down about writing a memoir about my straight spouse experience, but I am not at all sure I want to revisit that pain or to give my ex any more years of my life.

jk, I hope I haven't hijacked your thread.

Last edited by OutofHisCloset (July 27, 2020 4:36 pm)

Longwayhome: You mentioned that you feel "much of the fog has lifted." My timeline was similar: I barely remember anything from the first 11-12 months post disclosure. I remember shocking behaviors of my ex, but I don't remember anything of everyday life with my children. They call it, "The year that Mom can't remember."

I'm 5 years post-disclosure now. As many here have mentioned, the rollercoaster ride continues and tidal waves keep coming, but they sometimes start getting smaller and farther apart. I hope you feel progress as you forge ahead. I still have work to do on myself, but I'm certainly far better off than I was 5 years ago. Honestly, I don't know how any of us make it through those early stages. All the best to you.

Dear JK and OOHC, 

Thank you for your posts.  JK, I too still find that even though I am 4 years divorced any mention of my ex sends me into a bit of a tailspin too!!  I was speaking with my son who had done a trip with his dad just this week and I felt myself trying to be so normal about it all, but still such a mix of despair, sadness and anger arose within me.  

There is this pressure I put on myself to be all 'cool' about mentioning him, trying to normalise it so that my sons don't feel they have to avoid any mention of what they are doing with him, but actually reading this post was so helpful as why do I feel so beholden to 'normalising' what for me is a very painful and unexpected life situation???  And why do I always feel I have to suck it up and be 'okay'.  

So Thank you.  The idea of being more self-protective is a wise one to take onboard.  As time passes the waves of grief do get further apart and less overwhelming.  This is very true.  

And OOHC, yes I love what you write so much!  But I completely understand and respect your desire not to stay mired in the details of the terrible trauma of retelling your story in a book form, all you do it so helpful already.   

All the best to you all