-
Introduction
Hello World! My name is Terri Conroy. I came out as a lesbian at the age of 43, after being married to a man for 17 years and having 2 children. This blog is a space for me to share with you my honest experiences during this process. The good and bad, ups and downs, triumphs and tragedies. Even though it has been over 8 years since I’ve come out, I continue to have moments where I’m still trying to figure it all out. My goal here is to create a space for those going through a similar situation, who can possibly find my words useful and encouraging.
-
Self Care
I decided to follow the theme of self care as my topic for this week. It’s something that I’ve done a lot of since I’ve come out, but from time to time, happens to fall by the wayside as events unfold in my life.
I’ve written previously that as women, our society tends to glorify us who can do it all. “Wow! You’re such a great Mom. You work, take care of your husband and kids, all while maintaining a home. Superwoman!”
I was once that woman. Although I was very fortunate to stay home with my kids for about 10 years, I was still very active in maintaining a home, kids activities, portraying the outward appearance of having the absolute perfect life that some would envy. Unbeknowst to others, I was slowly withering away. Everything I did was for everyone else but myself.
When I came out I heard all of the usual lines… “How could you be so selfish?” “What about your kids? Husband?” “What will people think?” Not one person asked “How are you feeling through all of this? How is this change affecting you?” It didn’t matter how I felt to others. I was the cause of the disruption and change, so if I was suffering then it was justified.
I took on this guilt for a couple of years after I left. I was also slowly accepting that I was deserving of happiness too. I started to concentrate on my health. Not masking my pain with food and alcohol. Acknowledging the hurt and feeling it. The regrets. The heartaches. The disappointments. It was not an easy time at all, but for once I wanted to do something for myself that was my decision.
The first fear I faced was doing things by myself. There was a time when I would never go anywhere by myself. I wanted to discover so many places and start new activities but was always so scared to do them alone. At 42, I decided if I wanted to be a better version of myself, I needed to face these fears and step out of my comfort zone. So I did.
I started driving downtown to Center City Philadelphia, PA. Visiting museums, small towns, sipping coffee in cafes, and hiking the local trails. Taking myself out to eat and to the movies. I started running, mountain biking, indoor rock climbing, kayaking, weight lifting, and traveling. All by myself. I was discovering what I liked because for the longest time, I did what everyone else wanted. I had no idea what I truly was interested in, so I did a lot.
Due to some knee issues, I’ve had to give up a few of these activities, but I still try new things because I believe we are ever evolving beings. If something no longer interests or serves us, then we have the right to cease doing it or make a change.
The main benefit I’ve gained from discovering my autonomy, is that I can trust myself. That my actions are enough. If I make a mistake while doing anything that was my sole decision (and believe me, I’ve made plenty) I will be OK. Nothing has killed me yet. This does not mean that I live without regret from some of my actions, or suffer from hurt now and again. I’m human. It’s unrealistic to have a well lived life thinking that you can maneuver without having some ups and downs. How else do we learn lessons? Become better people? How can we stand with our arms raised high, exhausted but beaming as we’re finally at the top of the mountain, without looking back and seeing all of the places we fell down but had the strength to just get back up again?
We. I. You. Have the same abilities as the next person who is living the life they want. Chose to do it. Your mind is a powerful tool that can either work against you, or for you. Feed it with positivity to achieve the life YOU deserve and get out there and LIVE.
-
Starting Over
There comes a time in life when we come to an impasse and we’re faced with the uncertainty of how to move forward. Suddenly we have to make decisions that are so out of our comfort zone and downright frightening. This starting over process is especially true for women who have come out later in life. It can be so disruptive and foreign to what we’re used to, but the reality is in order for change to take place, change has to happen. Sometimes this means abandoning everything you’ve ever known. Having to learn things you never thought were possible, feeling emotions you never knew existed, and unintentionally hurting people you love.
Whether it’s the end of a marriage, job, friendship or relationship, it’s important to understand that starting over isn’t necessarily a bad thing. When we’re in this type of situation, sometimes we become so overcome with the difficulty of change, that we fear making a move. We become paralyzed with fear and tend to focus solely on every negative outcome that could possibly happen. This is when it’s important to take a look at all factors of the situation and see how your life would actually benefit from these changes.
For those coming out, it’s not as clear to some as just acknowledging your sexual preference and living a life as a gay person. There are kids, finances, spouses, friends, co-workers, among others that we have to deal with in this process. It’s not easy by any stretch, but it is absolutely possible.
Ending something is painful. There has to be a mourning process. No matter if the decisions were made by you or decided jointly. I remember feeling extreme sadness and guilt when I decided to split up my family, but I also gained myself. I learned to listen to my needs and not push them aside. I was still able to be a mother, friend and coworker; and I became better at it when I started owning and living my truth.
Sometimes you may question if what you did was the right choice. Seeing the disruption in my family’s life certainly made me take a step back and pose that question, but I always came back to the same answer; I was slowly dying inside and my mental, emotional and physical health deteriorating as a result of it. Then my question was “Is this the example I want for my children?” Absolutely not.
The truth is my marriage didn’t solely end because I was gay. We were two completely different people. I wanted someone to challenge me on all levels, and he just was not made that way. That’s not a bad thing, but it wasn’t what I wanted in my life anymore. Put simply, I wanted to start living a life that was more conducive to my desires, instead of for everyone else.
When we want change, it’s mainly because we feel something just isn’t right for us. Many of us never make the effort to do anything about it because fear is more powerful than staying in what you already know. Although we may be sad, angry, feel uninspired or hopeless in a situation, we are in it and experiencing it in the present. We know exactly what’s going on and have developed ways to cope that have worked. If we change, we don’t know what the outcome will be, so we conjure up all the horrible negative things that could happen as a result of our actions; never making a move to change. This reminds me of a favorite quote… “There is freedom waiting for you on the breezes of the sky, and you ask, What if I fall? Oh but my darling, what if you fly?”
I am one who likes to know the outcome. Always have been this way, and it’s something I struggle with continually. Seldom do I just live in the present moment and just enjoy it. I want to be prepared for several different outcomes should they arise. This is definitely a direct result of my childhood where unpredictability was highly prevalent. Over the years I’ve conditioned myself to be prepared in case things didn’t go the way they were planned, and if people didn’t follow through on what they said. I don’t want to be surprised and shocked by an outcome that I didn’t have a plan for. What I’ve learned from this though, is that instead of enjoying the moments as their occurring, I’m diminishing them by thinking of how they will end and how I’ll overcome that. Like I said, this is something that I work on to this day. And it brings me right back to the reason for this post. Endings aren’t necessarily a bad thing. Different directions aren’t failures. Unknown paths aren’t the result of bad planning. All of this just clears the path for something new and possibly better for you as you grow.
Growth is important to live a fulfilling life. If we become stagnant, how can we ever know the greatness that lies ahead? And I say that with certainty…Greatness that lies ahead, because in every change I’ve made in my life, there was a greatness hidden somewhere along the way. Every step wasn’t pure bliss and didn’t come without some pain, disappointment and misfortune, but the growth from the experience pushed me further to my own personal greatness. I’m pretty good at learning lessons from missteps. And to be extremely honest, sometimes I made the same missteps a couple times, due to falling back into what’s comfortable. But eventually I get it. The lightbulb finally goes off for me and I have that aha moment where I stop, reflect and tell myself, “OK, I see it now. What can I do differently next time?”
The great thing about this life we’ve been given, is we have the incredible ability to make our own reality. Nothing is ever impossible when you think about it. It’s all just a matter of perspective. It’s not easy. It’s incredibly fucking hard, but at any given moment we can concoct a plan to start over. It’s amazingly simple really. You just have to want it bad enough. I know for myself, I’ve started over more times than I’ve wanted to, but do you see the message here? I started again. I didn’t stop. Be constantly reaching for what you want. Eventually you will land in your desired place. And if there ever comes a time where that doesn’t serve you anymore, you have the ability to recreate and start another uncharted path.
“This might not be an easy time
Chris Stapleton Starting Over
There’s rivers to cross and hills to climb
And some days we might fall apart
And some nights might feel cold and dark
But nobody wins afraid of losing
And the hard roads are the ones worth choosing
Some day we’ll look back and smile
And know it was worth every mile” -
Unconditional Love
I’ve heard a lot about this term my entire life. Particularly when it comes to family and a life partner.
Looking up various examples of what this meaning is, I’ve found that it’s mainly defined as “to offer love freely with no preset conditions, expectations or payment of love in return.”
But how realistic is that?
When it comes to my children, I would have to say that I’m pretty damn near close to having this type of love for them.
There’s something about that maternal bond that seems to grow stronger the more time has passed. If I let my brain go off on a tangent, I could think of some awful things my kids could do that could make me not like them very much, but I don’t think I would ever stop loving them. That to me is unconditional love. The love that endures and is constant throughout time.
When I first started dating way back in high school, I remember having these romantic notions of what love should be. And unconditional love was a term I would often say and profess to my partners. That led to some really dysfunctional emotions and excessive heartache. The truth is, constant hurt can diminish love between two people who have come together by choice. Resentments form, hurtful words continue to replay in our minds. We can not expect to keep love alive, when we’re assuming it will always be there.
What I’ve learned, is that when it comes to a relationship there must be conditions established between both parties in order for it to work, be fulfilling, and grow.
I can not expect to treat or be treated by my partner with disrespect, withhold emotions, take out anger, and expect to have that love still be there.
If I want a fulfilling, long lasting, loving relationship, I must put conditions on my love. Set boundaries. Mend past indiscretions, and learn from mistakes.
This does not mean withholding love. Quite the opposite. It means discovering what is needed from our loved ones to create, sustain and grow love and getting the same in return.
Love is such an amazing gift that costs absolutely nothing. We can give it, receive it, but it’s also fragile and must be handled with care and nurtured, much like a child in order for it be healthy and grow.
Conditional love is not something we just want to give to others. It’s required for ourselves as well.
Learning to love and respect ourselves, and quiet self deprecating talk, will ultimately teach us to expand that onto others. It’s a constant practice though; one that isn’t easy by any stretch, but loving just feels so much better than hate. And that’s what keeps me pushing on.
-
Happiness
Wanting to reclaim my happiness again was a huge part of me coming out. I had many years where I put that aside for several reasons, and was in a constant battle in my mind over what I felt was right and what others wanted me to do.
I recently finished the book The Untethered Soul by Michael A. Singer. If any of you have not read it and are looking to expand on your personal growth, I strongly suggest it.
After having a relatively horrible month, I decided to read this book as was suggested by a friend, as well as hearing about it on a podcast. I had seen some unhealthy patterns arise in me that I was not happy about and knew that I needed help in getting back on track, and to learn why I was once again, falling victim to these ways.
In this book, there were so many topics that stopped me in my tracks and made me feel incredibly overcome with sadness and grief, mainly because they rang so true to how I was living.
The one that stuck out the most was the only way to experience happiness to its fullest, was to have your heart open. Because it’s been a really trying time for me emotionally, I told myself I just needed to stop feeling so much. I wanted to close it up so very tightly, to keep out any pain from ever affecting me again.
I started to think back to the days before I had kids and how strong I was emotionally, or so I thought. I never cried. Nothing could rock me. It didn’t matter what someone did, I could separate those feelings of hurt and tuck them away and not think twice about it.
What really happened is I was hardening my heart. I had a dark soul. I disliked myself, and therefore had no idea how to like or love others. I had mastered the art of sweeping my emotions under the rug so well as a child and teenager, that when I lost my mother to suicide at the age 13, I felt completely numb to it. Never shed a tear and didn’t mourn her death until almost 14 years later. I was raised to not cry. My father equated tears with physical pain and often mentioned if my sisters and I cried “that he’d give us something to cry about”, insinuating that we’d get a whooping if we didn’t stop. This is where I learned that happy emotions were OK to share outwardly, but anything sorrowful needed to be kept inside.
The avoidance of expressing many sad experiences of my adolescence caused me to become so very angry and develop severe anxiety.
It was only when I became pregnant with my son did I decide to go to therapy to learn how to change. Thank goodness I had the sense to realize I was terribly flawed, and had no idea how to be a good mother. I had to be taught.
This brings me to my topic of happiness. When I was in therapy, I learned I had surface happiness. You know the kind, the upbeat positive face you show your friends, family, and co-workers, but deep down inside I was so very sad. I hurt so much. This is where the work had to begin to get to the happiness that was on the other side. I had to look under the rug at all the stuff I had swept under there. It was a long, brutal process.
Many years of therapy helped me to deal with all that unpleasant stuff. It was excruciating at times. The hurt so immense, but then I started to realize something. My heart was growing. I felt lighter, happier. Simple things brought me joy instead of anger. I could breathe calmly and not be filled with constant anxiety. I learned that feeling the hurtful things was OK. That these feelings didn’t have to stay with or consume me. I could acknowledge that the unpleasant things happened and were a part of my life, but they didn’t have to linger inside of me. I learned the art of acceptance and letting go.
Just because I had learned this doesn’t mean that I don’t have moments where I forget and want to go back to what’s easiest; not facing the pain. But carrying that is a really heavy load that I worked so hard at overcoming, that I just can’t go back to that dark place, no matter how painful life gets.
I’ve always said that life is a series of balances; you can’t have extreme highs without deep lows. In fact, I believe in order to experience the joy to its fullest, you have to break through the despair and feeling that intensely in order to bask in the feelings of love and happiness.
-
Codependency
According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, codependency is defined as “a psychological condition or a relationship in which low self-esteem and a strong desire for approval has an unhealthy attachment to another person and places the needs of that person before his or her own.”
There are so many ways that a person can become codependent, and often times not even realizing they are. As a child, I can remember having to present myself in a certain way and behave according to how others wanted me to be. Being a child, I felt like I didn’t have much of a say in the matter, but being groomed from a young age to put others feelings, wants and needs ahead of my own, sets up a foundation of codependency for my formative years. What happened is I would repeatedly seek out others opinions and approval instead of trusting my own judgment. If my opinion was different, I would have to hear why it was wrong and basically suffer the repercussions of being different. When this happened, over time I just learned to go with the majority as to not upset anyone; neglecting my own sense of self.
As a woman I believe this is more prevalent than it is with men. I was raised in a family that had gender specific roles, and was taught traits and behaviors that my gender should adhere to. Men were typically strong, stoic and the breadwinners of the family. Cold and distant with their emotions, and worked a lot of hours outside of the home. The women were homemakers; raising children, cooking meals and cleaning the house. Keeping the peace and quiet even though they weren’t content, because the men were the ones who gave us a safe place to live and food on the table. We women should be grateful.
I could take you through the stages of my youth, adolescence and early adulthood that would give you an enormous amount of examples that show just how this codependency fit so easily into my life., but I’d be here for a very long time. There was a time when I couldn’t even make a decision without conferring with a relative first. I always felt the need for others approval and never trusted my own judgement.
This is why I never chose to come out earlier than I did. I never wanted to disappoint anyone, especially my parents. Repeatedly being told that I’d be disowned if I was gay, was certainly a way to keep anyone in the closet.
Wanting to be accepted and loved was a constant struggle for me growing up. My mother abandoned my older sister and I when I was one year old, so already I had a key component for codependency due to this. I felt as though I had to be exactly what my family wanted me to be so that they wouldn’t leave also.
That being said, let me point out that I was not the model child. I had a stubborn streak, anger issues, and would have moments where I wouldn’t talk to anyone for days. I joke around and tell people that I was grounded from the age of 13 until I moved out at 17, but it’s not all that far-fetched. I was always in trouble mostly for speaking my mind and questioning my parents authority. Nonetheless, this rebellious teenager wanted to be accepted, so I eventually developed that codependency with my peers.
Being a teenager in the 80’s and in a rural town, I didn’t see or know of any gay people, so I played the part of a straight girl really well. Conformed to all of what was socially acceptable and even won the acceptance of my parents by settling down and marrying a great guy.
When you are used to being the outcast, and then suddenly you start doing all the things that your family wants you to do and they start treating you nicer, it can be so rewarding. Here I was, married to a guy whom my parents loved, bought a house, nice car, attending all the usual family functions, etc…I’ll admit it was really nice there for a while.
I don’t think a child ever wants to disappoint their parents. And I did not want to disappoint my father. He and I developed a bond over hunting that none of my other sisters did. That made me feel special and wanted. The first sign of me letting go of some of that codependency was right before I had my son and I decided to no longer partake in what I thought was an unkind act. My father was disappointed, and I saw our relationship change from that moment on. Suddenly we didn’t really have anything to bond us anymore.
But what happens when you start to live for other people’s happiness and not your own? Constantly being the giver and never setting boundaries? I started to become extremely depressed and resentful. What I didn’t realize was that a lifetime of people pleasing was ingrained in me. I saw how I did this within my marriage too. Just settling for whatever just to keep the peace. With friends and family members; always asking for their approval and opinions and considering them over mine.
That resentment, anger and depression within me finally reached a point where I broke. The older I got, the more I realized I wasn’t living my life. How fair was that? How many people came to me and asked what my opinions were about their lives and adhered to it? I couldn’t think of any. That’s when I started to slowly stop living for those people and start living for me. Of course I had children that I sacrificed for, but no longer my entire self. When I decided to come out, is when I gave up a lot of that codependency. I set boundaries., spoke openly about what was important to me and my children. I no longer had any concern for what other people thought. I was finally going to take control of my life.
I lost some friends. Distances developed within my family, but I gained myself. I was called selfish and irresponsible for breaking up my family. That I was sick and mentally ill. Only a few saw that my actions had actually saved my life and made this depressed, scared, anxiety ridden, self-destructive shell of a woman, breathe a sigh of relief and feel like she had been reborn.
I believe we all have forms of codependency in our lives. I still do. But I believe I broke free from the most destructive and constraining ones that were not allowing me to fully live. Breaking free from this behavior is extremely hard to do, as it’s learned behavior typically over a long period of time.
There’s an old myth that you may have heard about; the boiling frog. The story goes if you place a frog in a pot of boiling water it will instantly leap out. But if you put it in a pot filled with tepid water and gradually increase the heat, the frog will remain in the water until it boils to death.
Sometimes we become so accustomed to neglecting ourselves and pleasing others, that we don’t recognize when our own needs aren’t being met.
We’re all free to live the life we want. The life we deserve. Sometimes it’s not easy. It takes work and the ability to change. And change my friends is extremely scary, but not impossible. And SO very worth it!
-
On Dating Women
I’m not sure about every persons why for coming out, but mine was to finally address the emotional and sexual desires I had kept pent up inside of me for most of my life. The longing to act on pursing a woman romantically was exciting, intriguing, but also terrifying!
First, I must confess that writing about my sexual experiences makes me a bit uncomfortable. I’m not one who likes to kiss and tell, and I believe that my intimate experiences are to be kept sacred between the parties involved. That being said, I understand this is an important topic of discussion, so I will do my best to be as open, and adhere to what I feel I’m comfortable in divulging.
My first sexual experience was with a woman who was in a similar situation as me. Married, but in a sexless, unfulfilling union. We were both curious and after about a month of talking, our circumstances aligned that allowed us to be each others first. This was not a love connection, but there was a mutual respect between us that developed while talking. We both felt comfortable with meeting.
After that first sexual encounter, I told myself that I must be bisexual. Even though I knew deep down in the depths of my soul I was gay, how could I be? I slept with men. Was married to a man. (and married previously to a man). I had kids with a man. Built a life with a man. I was confused and scared. But, this sexual experience was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I was fully present. My body and mind felt things that it never had before. Still, it was unfamiliar to me, so I did what I do with just about everything in my life. I over analyzed it.
After a few weeks of trying to come to terms with what just happened, there was also an excitement that ignited in me. I felt alive. Like I had been wearing this heavy backpack all my life, and I finally felt like it was no longer there weighing me down. We decided to meet up again. It was after this meeting that I was legitimately, without a doubt – a lesbian. I remember telling this person my realization, and her immediately telling me that she still believed she was bisexual. She asked what I was going to do, and I told her I had to come out. I just couldn’t keep it inside any longer. I assured her that I was not looking for anything from her. Nonetheless, that was the last conversation we had. My texts were no longer answered, and I knew fairly quickly that this short lived encounter was over.
I didn’t feel any type of sadness from basically being ghosted. We both knew what it was. An experiment, if you will. A chance to safely explore. I look back on that experience as a great first time. Better than my first time being with a man. It stoked my burning desires, and fueled me to embrace who I truly was.
Since then, I’ve had relationships with a few women. I’ve loved and lost greatly. I do not regret any relationship I was ever in that ended, for it taught me so much about myself, what I want and don’t want. It also allowed me to become a stronger, more aware person. A really difficult lesson I’ve learned, is that love is definitely not enough to sustain a relationship. Sometimes, two people are just so far apart in their personalities, values and future endeavors that no matter how much love is there, it simply will not work.
“We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.” ~ Sam Keen
-
What about the kids?
Whenever I decided to come out there was a question that arose from several friends and family members. “What about your kids?” This was also in addition to me telling them about me wanting a divorce. The double whammy. Not only am I divorcing my kind, hard-working husband and father of my children, but I’m gay. What could possibly be worse? The trauma that I’m going to instill in my children was apparent on my parents faces and heard in their unapproving words. Some friends even voiced their disgust. “How could I be so selfish?”
The truth is, I felt so incredibly selfish. And guilty. I had also reached a point in my life that I felt I could no longer survive if I continued to live in this make believe life. Sure my ex-husband was a great guy, but we never had the intimacy that I longed for. The deep conversations, the feeling like he understood me. The physical part as well. I remember when I would talk to him years prior to coming out, about how I wasn’t happy and I felt like we were just two mismatched souls, his response was that we needed to have more sex. I found this incredibly interesting, as I was the more sexual person in our relationship; always initiating, only to be turned down the majority of the time. Such a complex situation. On one hand I was relieved because I didn’t really enjoy sex all that much. I won’t say it was awful, but I craved intimacy and physical touch. It’s my love language, and I felt that the only time I had this with my ex-husband was when we were having sex. Sometimes I just wanted to feel wanted and have someone touch me softly. What was happening as the years went on, is that I was increasingly becoming more and more upset by having no emotional attachment to those physical feelings. I knew I was capable of giving and receiving more, and I was so very depressed by this feeling of unachievable longing.
It’s true what I’ve read in several books and articles about allowing your kids, and other people in your life to have as much time as needed to process all of this. The reality is, most times the person who decides to leave has had months or years to process it all, so when it’s time to tell the other spouse, kids, family and friends, we have to be cognizant of the fact that this is their beginning. I’ve already gone through the acceptance phase. That’s not to say that my grieving ended when I came to this realization. Different situations arose, and brought on more surprising feelings of hurt and despair.
When I told my kids their father and I were getting divorced, I did not mention I was gay. I also did not disclose this to my ex-husband at the time either. I truly felt that was only part of the reason for our split. I have been asked many times if I would’ve stayed together with him had I not been gay, and my answer has always been no. Refer back to the previous paragraphs in this post. I wanted more from a relationship than I was getting.
Both of my kids took the news of the divorce rather well. Although their father and I never fought or raised our voices, there was always a sense of tension in the home, and they mentioned this when we broke the divorce news to them. Kids are more intuitive than we give them credit for. My ex-husband and I made a pact to make this split as painless and less disruptive for the kids as possible. Of course there were tough moments from the split, and from what I chalk up to just being teenagers; my kids were 15 & 13 when the separation happened.
Leading up to my telling the kids I was gay, there were some moments where my daughter would become so very sad and ask if there was any chance me and her father could stay together. It broke my heart when I’d continually tell her no, but that we would always be there for her and her brother. I knew the time was going to have to come soon that I tell my kids the other reason why their parents couldn’t stay together.
I wish my story of telling my kids and ex-husband that I was gay, was a more uniform, perfectly planned out disclosure. I envisioned telling them together, but sometimes in life things do not go as planned.
Approximately 3 months after breaking the news of the split to just about everyone, I had been conversing with a woman, mainly via text. My daughter sensed something was up and unbeknownst to me, watched over my shoulder me entering the passcode on my phone. She found texts from this person whose name is an androgynous one, and confronted me. She wanted to know who this person was, and was I leaving her dad for “him”. As my heart sank and seemed to jump right into my throat, I knew now was the time I had to tell her. All I will say about that private conversation, is that I learned in that moment that my ex-husband and I had raised her right. She was kind, compassionate, and empathetic…all at the tender and volatile age of 13. Telling my ex-husband and my son was now imperative.
There is nothing like having a dreadful conversation knowing that you can’t put it off. I did not want my daughter to have to hold onto that information, so I asked to speak to my ex-husband as quickly as possible. I remember sitting down on the couch shaking, crying, and just trying so desperately to find the right words. I finally just said “I have something to tell you and you’re probably going to be shocked. I’m gay”. He looked at me, shook his head and said “That makes a lot of sense.” I assured him all of the things that many of us late in lifers do like “It wasn’t anything you did. I just always felt this way.” He hugged me, but only because I approached him and asked if we could. We never talked about it again.
My son came home shortly after that and I told him in his room, using the same opening line I did with his father. His reaction was typical for him; calm, cool, and reserved. He asked if I was happy. I said yes. “Well, that’s all that matters. I love you. You’re still my Mom.” And then he asked if we cold order pizza.
The road after coming out has been fairly smooth for me. I’ve heard a lot of stories where that is not the case, and it hurts my heart. I do realize how very fortunate I am. One thing I’ve also realized is that those who didn’t approve fell by the wayside. I quickly found out who my real family and friends were, and I hold them close.
The most important piece of me owning my truth is that my kids see their mother and father happier than they ever were. That they can choose their path, even if it’s not the expected one. They’re never stuck. They can be exactly who they want to be. To me, that is a precious lesson that I take great pride in having taught them, even though the road to getting to the destination was a little rocky.
-
My Coming Out Story
Like so many of us, there’s usually a story, or series of events that adds to our realization that we are no longer straight. For me, I knew from a very young age. I felt different. I looked and acted different. I don’t say these things to mean that all gay people have to look or act a certain way, but in my case, I was butch from the get go. I despised anything girly. Preferred Matchbox cars and Big Wheels over Barbies and tea sets. For Halloween, I was Spiderman, GI Joe, and Dracula. My sister and I even went as Raggedy Ann and Andy. Guess who was Andy? That was me. I just felt comfortable being plain and in boy clothes. Nothing special or standing out.
Fast forward to my teenage years when all of the girls were crushing on boys, I was secretly crushing on the girls. There was no way I could ever tell anyone this, although I believe my parents knew. I was repeatedly told there were two things that would get me disowned from the family, and that was dating outside my race or being gay. Racial and homophobic slurs were in abundance in my home. I knew then that I had to conform to fit in and be accepted. The one thing a teenager definitely does not want is to be an outcast from her family and friends. After having short hair most of my adolescence, I started to grow it out; long blonde curls. I soon learned that boys liked that, as did my peers and family members. Little by little, I’d mold myself into the person they wanted me to become. Girly, but not too girly. I still had my tomboyish ways, but I certainly looked the part of a straight girl in the 80’s.
I found myself married to a man at 19. Divorced at 20. Married again at age 25, having 2 children by the time I was 28. Although I loved both of these men, I was not emotionally or physically attracted to them. There was a void that was so apparent, and deep down I knew what it was, but I had chosen to be straight. That’s just how it had to be. One thing I have always had the capability to do back in those days, was to block out what wasn’t necessary and bring forth what was. I had chosen to be a wife and mother, and I was going to be good at both!
It’s important for me to state that I was happy for a while. Content. My ex husband was a kind man. A great provider, and a hands on dad. I selected an excellent partner to procreate and share a life with. We were a great team, and being a stay at home mom was one of the greatest experiences I was so very fortunate to have.
So what happened? Was it that ‘ole mid life crisis that we hear about all the time? We hit a certain age, and start to reflect back on what we’ve done with our life. Take stock. Evaluate our own happiness. For anyone that is a mom, you know that your needs are pretty much non-existent until our kids are a little more self-sufficient. Even as teenagers, they rely on us for so much. We forego a lot to make sure they are happy and fulfilled. What happened was my kids turned into teenagers and I was having those hard conversations with them about being true to themselves. Never settling in life. That no matter how bad a situation is, it’s not impossible to get out of it. This is when I realized that I was teaching my children to be something I was not. I had a few years of being self destructive in my misery when I knew I had to face my truth and at the same time, face the heartbreak of splitting up my family and mourning the life I had wanted for all of us.
It’s been 8 years since I had those hard conversations and terribly awful moments of despair. But there have been moments of absolute bliss, enormous growth, and a sense of independence that I’ve never known.
As Dolly Parton once said, “If you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with a little rain.”
Coming Out Clueless 