I (43M) and my partner (30F) were together for 11 years, unmarried, and we have a 7-year-old daughter. On April 29th, 2025, my partner told me she is a lesbian and broke up with me right then. I was completely blindsided—I never saw any signs of this coming.

Neither of us makes enough money for one of us to move out, and I really wanted us to at least try to stay friends and live as roommates for our daughter’s sake. But not even a week later, while I was in so much pain and basically in hell, my partner met someone new on an LGBTQ+ Discord server.

She told me she was just looking for friends and that it was nothing more. But only a few days later, she started going out all night with this person after work, ignoring our daughter's and my requests for her to come home and help put our daughter to sleep. Very quickly they became friends with benefits and were in some kind of poly relationship.

This went on for a while, causing even more suffering and problems for our daughter and me. She kept lying about when she’d be home. One morning I found something in our bathroom and asked her about it, and she told me the person she was seeing was a (MTF) who still had male anatomy. I consider myself an ally, but this really, really hurt me.

As this continued, my partner started spending less time and focus on our daughter and me, and more time lying. She became so cold and mean toward me that I couldn't handle it anymore. We got into a big fight and she moved out.

Since then, it feels like she’s been trying to completely destroy me in every way possible. She got all our mutual friends to side with her and cut me out of their lives. They were all excited and happy for her when she came out, but when I reached out to them for support, only two of them even kind of supported me.

I find it wild that I’m seen as the bad guy now, and that they all seem okay with the horrible things my partner did to our daughter and me.

Has anyone else had a former partner change so radically after coming out?

Around 1 and a half to 2 years ago, my partner and I started growing apart in a bad way. We had both always been night owls, but when our daughter started kindergarten, I had to shift my schedule. I was getting up at 6:30 a.m. every day to get her ready, and she needed to be in bed by 7:30 p.m.

My partner, however, kept her night owl habits. Her job usually had her working from 10:30 a.m. to 9:00 p.m., Tuesday through Friday. Even then, she’d often stay up until 3 or 4 in the morning. Meanwhile, I was the one getting our daughter up, packing her lunch, driving her to school, picking her up, and taking care of her for most of the day.

When I got home from drop-off in the morning, my partner would still be asleep until it was time for her to go to work. Early on, when she got home at night, we used to hang out—but that gradually changed. She started spending her nights in the living room by herself, listening to music, playing video games, chatting on Discord, or just doing her own thing.

We talked less and less. It felt like she didn’t want to talk to me, like I annoyed her, or like she was mad at me—but she wouldn’t say why. When I asked what was wrong, she wouldn’t open up. Eventually, I gave up trying.

Around this time, she also started going out more after work, often hanging out with her gay brother and his/their LGBTQ+ friends. This led to more arguments between us. On top of that, intimacy between us started fading. It became weeks, then sometimes over a month between moments of physical connection. I knew something was wrong, but no matter how I tried to bring it up, she wouldn’t talk about it. So I got used to it, and it just became the “new normal.”

As all of this went on, I fell into a depression. I felt like a single parent, completely alone in the relationship. I became more isolated, angry, and resentful. I know that my own emotional decline probably pushed us even further apart.

This went on for a long time and finally reached a kind of breaking point about a month or two ago, when our daughter started crying at night because she missed her mom. She would try to stay awake until her mom came home. I tried to let her stay up so she could see her, but it made mornings almost impossible—I couldn’t get her up for school.

It got so bad that I received an email from her teacher saying she was falling asleep in class. A few days before the crying started, our daughter had even told me she wished her mom would spend more time with her and not always be on her phone. Hearing that broke my heart. I didn’t know what to do or how to fix it.

Around this time, I also started worrying that by getting together when my partner was so young, maybe I unintentionally robbed her of her needs or wants in her twenties. That we unintentionally forced her into parenthood and took away her freedom when she got pregnant. I realize this is probably just me getting in my own head—and it’s likely not really true—but I can’t shake the guilt, even if it might be misplaced.

Lastly, I want it to be known that I really do think my partner *can* be a wonderful, fantastic mother when she tries. I think whatever problems she’s having right now may just be the unfortunate fallout of her coming to realize that she’s a lesbian.

**The day everything changed.**

A week or two before this, I actually thought things were going pretty well. We were getting along better. My partner was getting up in the morning more often and even coming with me to drop our daughter off at school, so our daughter could see her and spend time with her on the days she worked. We even shared an intimate moment about a week before—it felt like everything was okay.

But then one morning, after I got home from dropping our daughter off at school, I found my partner still awake, playing on her phone. I could immediately feel something was off. I asked her what was wrong, and that’s when she told me she thought she was a lesbian.

I was in such complete shock that I can’t remember everything we talked about, but I’ll try my best. I remember asking what that meant for us, and she said she was a lesbian and that we were basically over. (I know those weren’t her exact words—it was more complicated—but that’s the message.) My ears started ringing. All the sound seemed to fade. My whole body went numb. I felt like I was going to puke.

I remember her telling me she was really sorry. I remember telling her that I was happy she had figured out who she was and what she wanted, even though inside I felt horribly heartbroken. I remember asking what this meant for our daughter and our family, but I don’t remember her answer. She told me she’d realized she was a lesbian at the beginning of 2025 but had kept it hidden. She explained that when she read the Lesbian Masterdoc online, that’s when she figured it out. She even showed it to me, and I read it.

The rest of that conversation is a blur. I can’t even remember if it was on a Monday or a Tuesday, but I know it was in the morning when I encouraged her to tell her brother. She called him and put us on speakerphone. I remember her telling him she’d realized she was a lesbian and that we had broken up, but I don’t remember anything else the three of us talked about.

On another day—I can’t remember exactly when—I encouraged her to message our friend group about her realizing she was a lesbian, that we’d broken up, but that we still wanted to live together and be best friends. Our friends messaged back that they were happy for her.

The next three days were a complete blur for me. I was sick with worry about what was going to happen next, about how we could possibly go on as a family and as friends without being a couple. I couldn’t eat or drink anything. I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t control my feelings. I felt like I was losing my mind and losing control over everything.