15 November 2010

I could've married a girl

No, really. I mean it. Stop laughing.

Before I continue, I'll just say that I am not, in any way, about to say any gay/SSA guy who marries a woman does so for the same reasons as mine or with the same factors. This is only my story, as I remember it.

I had opportunities. A couple of girls were basically ready to go if I were on board. We would have dated a while, and I'm pretty sure we could've married.

I did have this vague sense that somehow, it wasn't right. I wanted it to be. I wanted to have a family more than anything, and I wanted it to be with a righteous, faithful woman who would be a great mother and who loved God first and foremost, as I did, because we would both build our relationship on that love, that spirituality, that singular focus on the glory of God as we raised up a righteous posterity together. And I found such a girl. And another later. And I loved spending time with them. I loved being with them. I even enjoyed physical rough-housing with them as an excuse to be close without all the awkwardness of "making a move" or whatever. As far as I knew, what I felt was what people were supposed to feel when they fell for someone, and I was just hung up on commitment issues, or I might be asexual, or...something. I knew we'd make a great team, and I believed two righteous people could build a life and happy marriage together. I had faith that the Lord would bless us if we were doing everything for the right reasons. I tried to figure out what was missing, but since I couldn't quite figure it out, I held on to what was good and hoped something would come of my prayers and scripture study and talking with other guy friends and parents and that I would just be able to take a leap of faith and start officially dating exclusively. But I wondered why I didn't want to be closer, physically, when my friends were having so much trouble keeping their hands off of each other. I figured my love for these girls was more holy because it clearly had nothing to do with lust. I believed it when I was told how healthy and stable I was because I was so clear-headed about my relationships. I believed I was maybe just 'picky' to a fault.

I could've done it. Looking back, I believe we could have had a very happy life together. We would have had struggles, like all couples, and we both had plenty of growing to do, but we would have done it together. I had never fully faced, let alone vocalized, my attractions at those points in my life. But I know a lot of couples who went into marriages with more baggage than that and worked it out. I still wouldn't recommend starting a marriage that way. At this point, I couldn't fathom marrying someone I haven't been totally open with, someone whose personal questions I couldn't answer completely honestly. But not everyone feels that way, and back in the days I'm thinking of, including before and just after my mission, I didn't realize there was anything to hide anyway, just a nagging curiosity I needn't bother anyone with and which would surely be inconsequential once I was happily married and preparing to have a family.

I'm so glad I listened to my hesitations. I wasn't ready, even though I thought I was. And I would much rather begin a relationship on the kind of open, honest note I now feel ready for. In fact, its hard to say if my relationships with past girls may have been different if I'd been this self-aware back then. Who knows? But I know that, given my circumstances, I'm glad things have worked out as they have. Surprised? Yeah, me too: I forget this sometimes. Even if I wish circumstances had been different, I can't think of any chunk of my life I'd just as soon erase. I learned so much from each and have friendships and experiences from each which instructed and enlarged and challenged me.

Anyway, even though I sometimes wonder how my life might be different, even better, had I married a girl, I'm glad I didn't at the time. I'm glad I didn't start a relationship with a large part of myself in the shadows. I'm glad I've been able to explore my questions and path without the worries of how it might affect a family, even though I know that's just part of being a family and might not consider it a burden if I had one. I'm glad I've learned what I have about myself which I'm not sure I would have allowed myself to learn had I been married. Even though I'll never be perfect enough to be a perfect husband or partner, I'm glad I listened to that quiet inner voice which said, "You have some things to figure out that are essential to the kind of relationship you want and need." I'm glad I listened to the concern I felt when I realized I couldn't look back at her quite the way she looked at me and couldn't imagine putting her through decades of wondering why she wasn't good enough for me to return that gaze. Sometimes, I think I've been afraid to say these things because I don't want to induce someone to unnecessarily regret their own decision to marry or anything like it. But I have to be honest that I'm glad I didn't marry a girl when I thought I could have. And yet, that doesn't mean I would diminish the goodness of these girls by acting like I somehow dodged a bullet or that I think I'd be miserable with them. It just means I think things worked out as was best, with them happily married with children now and me figuring things out. And again, I haven't closed the door on the possibility that a marriage with a woman could (theoretically) potentially not only work but best meet my desires and needs, doable now that I have been through what I've been through and have more perspective. But hashing all of that out in words is still another post...




BIG BUT (a sort of epilogue to not end this post on an unintended note):

In talking with a friend or two (or reading blog entries by some) who did marry before coming to terms with their own homosexuality, they've admitted to times when they've wondered what life might be like had they not married. For example, one might think of his family and realize he wouldn't trade them for anything, and part of him is glad he got married when he did because he's not sure he ever would've consciously chosen to had he come to terms with his own homosexuality more honestly beforehand. One friend said he considers himself blessed to have his wife (and believes his wife when she says she's blessed to have him), even if he does sometimes wonder what it would've been like to have a relationship with a man.

I've replied that even though I'm glad to have my options before me, and even though I firmly believe gay/SSA people should absolutely be up front about their homosexuality before marrying someone, I completely affirm the attitude of being grateful for what one does have and not focusing unnecessarily on what "might have been". What's done is done, and anyone can play that game, but with what purpose? He can't go back and tell her ahead of time. That's over. And he's married with children. Some people believe their only option is to pursue a same-sex relationship or to be a husband and father legally only and to live an otherwise independent life or open the marriage. And I know that you can't always simplify a situation down to "you made a commitment, and it would be selfish to go back on the promises you made." But I still insist that, if at all possible, the best option is to maintain the agreement made at the inception of the relationship, to keep the contract and conditions understood at the beginning, and to stay together for the good of the children if a happy home can be built or restored. Even though I have good friends with children who have divorced, and I understand their situations as well as a never-married gay friend can *smirk* and don't look down on them at all for their decision and see how it's sometimes even better that way, I am always happy when a couple can keep their family together and become a stronger couple through whatever trial they face.

I wonder how many gay folks married to members of the opposite sex who say they wouldn't trade their spouse and family for anything, if they were sent back to before they met their spouse and forgot they ever had a family, and same-sex partnership wasn't proscribed by beliefs and was considered no different from mixed-sex partnership (procreative methods aside), would never have chosen to marry their spouse or even have considered marrying someone of the opposite sex. I wonder how many of them would have instead pursued a relationship with someone of the same sex, without the challenges of a mixed-orientation marriage, and married for life, maybe adopting children. And if they were then to remember their past life in a mixed-orientation marriage, what they would feel, how they would compare their experiences, etc. I think you have to acknowledge that maybe, if society were different, and personal beliefs about truth were different, some would've chosen differently, at least for a while. But the choice they have before them is now.

I've said to such a friend something like, "I believe you wouldn't trade your family for anything, and that's beautiful. And even if you would have been with a guy if you had it to do over again, I don't think you should let that bother you. It's natural to wonder what might have been. If you have to mourn it, mourn it, but I'd say you're right to let it go because you have a really great wife who's a great companion, and you have great kids, and you clearly love all of your family. I'm not one to believe you're just accepting a consolation prize because you weren't able to have the real deal. I believe you are choosing what matters most to you and what you most value, as we all are. What you have has possibly already proven better than what most people have, and better than you might otherwise have had. How can you possibly know? I can tell your family is your greatest joy. The 'what ifs' might always be there to some extent, but if you can let go of them, knowing yourself and your situation, you have a great 'what is' right in front of you. I have to say that as I face the prospect of maybe finding a partner and building a life with him (or possibly her), or possibly never finding anyone after all, or who knows what, what you have now is enviable and beautiful to me in such a meaningful way, even if challenging in ways I may never fully understand. From my vantage point, it could be a shame to trade what you have for what you might have theoretically missed out on and which may or may not prove to be everything your imagination makes it out to be. What you have seems well worth the struggle to keep it, and though I have no illusions about you being perfect, I really respect your perspective and commitment to the most important people in your life and have faith in your ability to continue finding even more joy with them as you have been doing. I know you don't need my support or approval, but I just wanted you to know that this particular skeptical agnostic fully supports you." And I still mean it. But what do you think? For those of you in that place, what is your reaction/response to such thoughts? Are they lacking? Comforting? Meh?

9 comments:

Quiet Song said...

I don't think I am the right person to try to answer your questions, because I have a preference for the opposite sex, which I believe makes all the difference in the world. But, I have a question for you. Have you ever heard or read the remark, especially in terms of the gay community, that 2-5 years is a long term relationship? Basically, the thought is that period of time is what is reasonable. BTW, the kid is the most recent person to bring this idea up with me and I've read it in other places. So, the question is that if a same sex relationship has a lower standard as to longevity and risk, why should an opposite sex MOM relationship be subjected to higher standards? Of course, you have to put the LDS ideal aside in making this analysis. Have you wondered about the same thing?

Scott N said...

Hmm...

As far as I knew, what I felt was what people were supposed to feel when they fell for someone...

This was me. Completely in denial about my orientation, assuming and believing that the close friendship (and yes, love) that I had for Sarah was it--that it was what a husband was supposed to feel for a wife.

For example, one might think of his family and realize he wouldn't trade them for anything, and part of him is glad he got married when he did because he's not sure he ever would've consciously chosen to had he come to terms with his own homosexuality more honestly beforehand.

This was me too. I love my children, and I love Sarah, and I absolutely and quite literally cannot imagine life without them.

I wonder how many gay folks married to members of the opposite sex who say they wouldn't trade their spouse and family for anything, ... would never have chosen to marry their spouse or even have considered marrying someone of the opposite sex.

I'm pretty sure this is me, too. If I knew/believed, in 1995, what I know/believe now (about myself, about homosexuality, etc.) I would not have asked Sarah to marry me. She's said that if she knew and believed, in 1995, everything she currently knows and believes, she would have told me "no" if I had asked.

I completely affirm the attitude of being grateful for what one does have and not focusing unnecessarily on what "might have been"

I agree. Absolutely and completely. "What-if" games that focus on what "might have been" are (usually) pointless and unproductive.

(cont...)

Scott N said...

Some people believe their only option is to pursue a same-sex relationship or to be a husband and father legally only and to live an otherwise independent life or open the marriage. And I know that you can't always simplify a situation down to "you made a commitment, and it would be selfish to go back on the promises you made." But I still insist that, if at all possible, the best option is to maintain the agreement made at the inception of the relationship, to keep the contract and conditions understood at the beginning, and to stay together for the good of the children if a happy home can be built or restored.

... This is where things start to fall apart, for me....

I am always happy when a couple can keep their family together and become a stronger couple through whatever trial they face.

What does "keep their family together" mean?

Again, I'm not a fan of "what if" games, so take the following with a grain of salt, but...

It's very easy for me to imagine doing things "your way". Sarah and I have been generally happy together since I came out, and I do believe that I could, if had no other option, or if I believed it to be the best option, remain married to her, continually doing my best to ignore/suppress/etc. my attractions to men.

I believe that we could have been reasonably happy.

But ignoring/suppressing/etc. only work to an extent. I've been ignoring/suppressing/etc. for a couple of decades at least, now, and experience has taught me that those feelings, attractions, desires, wants, needs--whatever you want to call them--demand to be satisfied in one way or another. Trying to address them within the context of a mixed-orientation marriage is almost certainly possible. The question is whether or not it's the best option.

I can't speak for anyone else's marriage or anyone else's situation. In my own case, a very careful and deliberate and thoroughly-considered evaluation convinced me that remaining married was not, in fact, the best option--for anyone concerned.

In the several months since that decision was made I've found plenty of evidence to suggest that I've made the "correct" choice. I'm generally happier--even in the wake of a somewhat painful breakup with a great guy. My relationship with Sarah is entirely different than it used to be, but our friendship has never been stronger, and both we and the kids have been happy with the change. There have been moments of pain and heartache, but they've been far fewer and far more easily dealt with than I would have expected.

Where I take issue with your position, then, is that "[staying] together for the good of the children if a happy home can be built or restored" and "[keeping a] family together and [becoming] a stronger couple" doesn't have to mean maintaining the semblance of a "traditional" family with husband, wife, and kids. No matter where we go from here, Sarah and the kids and I are a family, and always will be.

Original Mohomie said...

QS, I don't know if I've thought of it in exactly the way you're saying, but it's an interesting train of thought. Certainly 'the gay community' is not known for long-term intimate relationships. In fact, most 'out and proud' gay folks I know say that even though they know couples who have been together for many years, they don't know any gay couple which has remained exclusive and monogamous (not bringing third parties home together on occasion) beyond three to five years. I have talked with only a couple of guys who have been in gay social circles long enough to have observed exceptions.

When I hear all of this talk from MOM-decrying folk about the inability of the opposite-sex spouse to satisfy the intimacy needs of their gay/SSA spouse, yet so few gay people in same-sex relationships whose partners satisfy their intimacy needs...it does raise questions.

I suspect there's more to it, though: that the very nature of a mixed-orientation relationship from the beginning is supposedly so patently different, and the ways intimacy is met so tailored, and the influence of cultural trends and community expectations on MOMs and on same-sex partnerships so heavy, that it's hard to draw too many lines of comparison. I've been meaning to post about some of that, so maybe I will open that up for discussion as well. :-)

Scott, thanks for the feedback and input. As I say, I just can't know your situation, so I leave it to the people involved to decide what's best. I think I understand your comment about "[staying] together for the good of the children if a happy home can be built or restored" and "[keeping a] family together and [becoming] a stronger couple" in a non-traditional way. And just like any other couple redefining their relationship but maintaining ties either for their children's sake or out of love for each other, or both, you'll make the best of it. Maybe the added stresses of the two of you dating other people and having new adults come into their lives as their parents' partners will require adjustment and distract them from 'normal development', or maybe it will spur growth in ways not measured by researchers who are mostly looking to defend traditional ideas of success and happiness. I'm fascinated by those questions.

So let's say I had told you what I wrote in an effort to be a supportive friend before you and Sarah had decided where your relationship was heading, when you were still thinking you'd carry on in maintaining your marriage as it had been but with new perspective and meeting your needs for intimacy in non-romantic, non-sexual ways. You weren't attending a support group or going to Journey Into Manhood or any of that stuff, as far as I know, so your situation may be different from that of many of my friends, but I wonder how you might have received comments like mine at the time, or whether they would have mostly highlighted my inability to really understand what you were going through...just kind of wondering. :-)

Scott N said...

My perspective (and situation) has changed in the last year or two, but I'm not sure my reaction is much different from what it would have been... I'm re-reading your post and trying to put myself in my own shoes (18 months ago)...

A few things stick out...

I believed two righteous people could build a life and happy marriage together. I had faith that the Lord would bless us if we were doing everything for the right reasons.

I think that you had more faith than I did, then. Or maybe you were just more naieve... :)

I honestly think that, from the moment I came out to myself, I saw this as my own battle (well, mine and Sarah's)... I guess that's because even though I hadn't admitted (to myself) that I was gay, I had still suppressed/ignored/fought against my feelings and attractions for my entire marriage, and I had done it "for the right reasons", and yet here I was, having difficult discussions with Sarah about our intimacy issues and trying to put on a happy face despite a constant undercurrent of ... I'm not sure "unhappiness" is the right word... perhaps "unfilfillment"?

In fact, the night I came out to Sarah one of the things I told her was that I didn't believe I could make a commitment to stay with her forever and always, because I recognized that my being gay changed everything, and that there was no way I could know how she or I would feel about things six months or a year or a decade down the road.

She struggled with this at first, but a few weeks later when my parents got on my case about it (I had said something like "Sarah and I are going to stay together for now" in my coming out letter to them, and they had taken exception with the "for now" part) Sarah was defending my position, saying that even if it was not what she wanted she understood and agreed with it.

Anyway... The point is I didn't have any faith, at that point, "that the Lord would bless us if we were doing everything for the right reasons"--all of my faith had been spent (without me even realizing it) over thirteen years of marriage.

Reading on, it feels like a large part of your position is summarized in the paragraph that starts "I've replied that even though I'm glad...". Here's how I read that paragraph:

1) There's no point in playing "what if", and it's best to be grateful for what we have and not worry about "what might have been".
2) Marriage is a contract, commitment, or promise, and even if the gay spouse's orientation was not recognized or understood when that commitment was made it was, nevertheless, a commitment, and that promise should not be broken.
3) The best choice for one who finds him/herself in this situation is to honor that commitment so as to maintain (or rebuild) a strong, healthy family--for the sake of the children, if for no other reason.

(cont...)

Scott N said...

re: Point #1, I agree that "what might have been" is pointless, but I'm not quite so willing to dismiss "what still could be". I won't wish myself back into the past in the hopes that I could do things differently. But I do hope to find something with someone in the future that will give me what I've been missing with Sarah all these years. I can't control what's happened in the past, but I can control the future.

Point #2 would argue that to some extent, at least, my future is determined by those choices I made in the past (and that I cannot un-make). This is also true, to a point. I have kids, and no matter what choices I make, that fact will not change (though I can choose how big a part those kids will play in my life).

... But it's always bothered me (even a couple of years ago, when the idea of separation/divorce was a fairly distant one) when people say "but you made a promise". Yes, I did--but that promise was made without a full understanding of the facts.

A person might inspect an apartment before signing a lease, and then sign with the belief that he is getting what was represented. He has now committed to regular monthly payments in exchange for housing. What if he discovers, halfway through the lease, problems with the apartment--problems that were not easily recognized before signing, but that cannot be rectified or corrected and that make continued occupancy uncomfortable or even unpleasant. Would he be justified in terminating the lease?

I'll be honest, I don't know what the legal answer to that question is. I expect a decent lawyer would be able to get him out of it without penalty, should the landlord choose to try to hold him to his commitment. But I'm less interested in the legal answer than I am in what feels right, and I don't personally feel that our hypothetical person should be expected to remain in a situation that has turned out to be irreconcilably different than what he expected when he signed.

Of course, we're talking about people, and human relationships, and feelings and hearts. Perhaps that makes a difference. At the very least, it made it a lot harder to decide to "break the lease". But I don't personally feel that it makes all that much difference in what I am allowed or expected to choose. I have, at least, done the very best I can to balance the "selfishness" of leaving with the "selflessness" of staying, and to find the least painful road for everyone concerned (including myself).

As for point #3... On this one I would have agreed wholeheartedly 18 months ago. Careful consideration has led me to believe that 1) "for the sake of the children" is not the only consideration (though it's an important one) and 2) staying together might not, in fact, be "best" for the kids (and I've had many friends whose parents have divorced tell me that they wish it had happened sooner than it did--a point of view that also seems validated by studies I've read that suggest that in some cases, at least, separation/divorce allows for a happier and healthier environment for the children).

I think that that's how I would have felt about things, 18 months ago. (I would have partially agreed with #s 1 and 2 and completely agreed with #3, with my views on #3 being the only ones that have changed appreciably in the last year and a half).

Scott N said...

Your last paragraph might have provoked thought--but the thoughts would not have been new. It's a difficult choice: do I keep what I have, which is by and large beautiful and enjoyable, or do I discard that and gamble that I can find something better.

I think that the breakthrough, for me, was in realizing that the choice isn't quite so binary. I'm lucky enough to have a wife and children whose understanding and compassion and love might allow me (or us--I believe Sarah deserves better as well) to seek the "something better" without losing (very much of) what I've got.

Apologies for the length of the response--I'm not very good at brevity.

Scott N said...

Possibly relevant: Sarah's comments [1] [2] on my most recent blog post give her answers to some of these questions, indirectly at least.

And, in response to QS's questions about length of relationships, I thought that this article was pertinent and rather interesting.

Original Mohomie said...

Scott, I could swear I started a long response to your comments, but I seem to have lost it. For now, I'll just say that article is interesting and right along the lines of a post I started some time back about "monogamy" and how I've stopped assuming I know what people mean when they say it and my own perceptions about the possible viability of different relationships but my continuing insistence that I most value and intend to stick with exclusive monogamy without additional sexual partners...blah blah blah. :-)