This post was really interesting to me, Daryl, thanks for linking to it. At the time that that study came out, STBX brought up to me that he thought he was bisexual if he was being honest. (I sometimes teach LGBTQ stories in my classes, so I follow some of this work, and we'd casually discuss it at home.) It was a brief moment of honesty for him, though, because as soon as I started to ask more questions and delve into that, he backtracked and said he was kidding and did a whole dance around why he would think that to begin with.

I can tell I am carrying a lot of guilt because the definitions and understanding of sexuality are so heavily debated and there are so many different ways of defining and measuring them. As an academic, I cheered Juliet's willingness to think deeply about the methods and practical application, as well as the high-level conceptual side of this. For my part, I can't even get to where she is right now, because I am in a place of fear. I fear that somehow someone is going to tell me someday that I am not an accepting enough person because I didn't create an environment in which he could just calmly come out to me, or admit to non-hetero-normative feelings in a safe space. (I guess I worry about some friends saying this, but also my son getting this impression.) I feel guilty and like I did something wrong because he didn't feel like he could just tell me what he was truly thinking and doing. It hurts me that he didn't care enough about me or our relationship (in the past or even now) to be honest with me.

But I feel like I need to say aloud: the reality is that he did have a safe space for 25+ years--when he first told me he had cheated on me with men in 2000, I didn't call a lawyer. Though I was devastated, my first statement to him was one of acceptance and openness to hearing more of his story. That was how my family all treated him, too. He had seen me be a supportive and open friend both to friends of mine who had come out and to friends of mine who were questioning. I literally do not know what I (or any of us) could have possibly done otherwise. It was his choice after that point to start constructing a new web of lies and dig deeper into the toxic depths of his closet.

It's such a helpless, sad feeling, to feel like you work hard to be a kind, open, tolerant person in life, and then that's not enough.