How I Made My Husband Gay: Myths About Straight Wives. Bonnie Kaye

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СКАЧАТЬ life after being married to a gay man, and I will always appreciate what he did for me.

      I am searching for my true soul mate, and I believe I will find him. I am a happier person for moving on and not feeling sorry for myself.

      I am a happy and positive person now, and you can be too. Just believe in yourself and know that none of this was ever your fault.

      PROFILE #4: Charlotte M., North Carolina, married 30 years, divorced 18 years, one son and one daughter both professionals.

       Red Flags

      I was a naive 20-year-old virgin when I married my ex. We had a long distance romance mainly by letter back in the 1950s. I had arrived from overseas for a two-year stay and I am still here. He was very charming and a professional, and I was impressed. We were married six months after our first meeting.

      He was thirty and I thought that was strange as most guys were married before then.

      We tried to have sex once before the wedding, but it was a disaster; he said it would be best to wait. On the honeymoon I was miserable and had nightmares about rats under the bed. We were very uncomfortable with one another but I thought that would get better. It never did. I became pregnant almost right away and then had a second child 21 months later. He kicked me in my back when I was pregnant the second time. I was really depressed after the birth and things just kept going downhill from then on. I told him I wanted to go back to Europe and he said that I could go but the children would stay with him. I did not argue and stuck it out for years until the children went to college. I then thought sex would be better and looked forward to time together. But that was not the case. When I got back from a weekend trip to the coast he had moved out of the bedroom saying his snoring was keeping me awake. So there was no sex for the last few years of our marriage.

      It all came to a head when a co-worker of mine told me that my husband had accosted her son, who worked for him. Of course he had not mentioned this to me. I told him I needed to talk to him and he finally came clean and did not apologize. I discovered later that he is a pedophile who likes 16-year-old boys. He admitted to sleeping with one and that he had affairs in service and in college. He blamed his family for being molested by siblings and had known since age eight that he was gay.

      As you can imagine I was horrified by the trouble he had caused his employees and their parents. None ever complained to me. It is true that the wife is always the last to know. At the same time I was so relieved because for the first time in thirty years, I knew it was not my fault .He had always given me the impression that there was something wrong with me.

      He lives a couple of hours away from me. We do not speak. My children keep in touch with him. Neither of them has children, and I wonder if their Dad is the reason. The really sad thing is that he is a homophobic homosexual who is now a lonely old man. He is lucky that he was not taken to court. I learned later that one mother almost did file charges but she did not want her son to go through the trauma.

      I mostly have gone on with my life and have had a few relationships but nothing serious. I mostly do not think about it anymore but like now it all comes flooding back.

      PROFILE #5: Bethany S., Texas, married three years, divorced two years, one child, Teacher

       Red Flags – Signs I Missed

      When I first met my husband Mabrey in 2003, I remember thinking, “Wow! I can’t believe he’s single.” He was a tall, handsome, friendly, church-going great guy. He was divorced from his first wife and had two children. He had been married ten years and divorced nearly two years when we met. I remember thinking that he was “out of my league.” I had just recently gotten divorced and thought I wasn’t possibly good enough for him. People always ask me, “Didn’t you see the signs?” But no, I truly didn’t. Looking back, of course, hindsight is 20/20, and now I totally see all of the red flags/missed signs that were so recognizable. But, at the time, it is truly the furthest thing from your mind. You are completely, genuinely not even entertaining any thoughts about the man you are dating being ‘gay.’

      I wasn’t too alarmed that my husband didn’t hunt, fish, golf, or play sports…some men aren’t into those things. But, he didn’t even like to watch any sports. So much so that he set the favorites channels setup on the TV’s in our house to skip all of the sports networks completely. Normally if a woman walks through the den on a Saturday and her husband is on the couch watching television, he’s watching a sporting event. Mine would watch the “gingerbread cookie baking contest” on the Food Network. I always said, “He was a great girlfriend-just not a husband.” He loved to go shopping with me and was a great ‘girlfriend’ type companion. He was extremely vain – staring into the mirrors a lot – constantly grooming himself. He hated the hair on his back, and he would go and get it waxed off. Once he even had his eyebrows waxed. He loved pedicures and manicures too. When he would sit, he’d cross his legs like a woman. He was very animated while talking and full of lively conversation. He loved visiting with the ladies in the neighborhood too – totally fit right in with ‘girl’ talk.

      I was extremely naïve and didn’t realize till much later that in fact, my husband had only married me to keep up the presumption of being a heterosexual male – with a wife and child, etc. I truly believe he never did love me. To him, I was just what he needed; a single, hardworking, educated professional from a good family that could offer the perfect ‘front’ for him. My sister told me, a year later, that the first time she and her husband had met Mabrey that they turned to each other and asked, “Do you think he’s gay?” I remember when I told my father that Mabrey was gay, he responded with, “Well, that doesn’t surprise me.” No one seemed to be surprised. It’s like everyone knew and saw all of the red flags, except for me.

       Blame Was the Name of His Game

      Being blamed unfairly by your husband for his being gay is one of the hardest things. It truly does a number on your self-esteem. My husband was a very negative person, constantly putting me down. Nothing about me or anything I did was right. It was always my fault. He always made me feel as if I was never pretty enough, skinny enough, smart enough. He did everything he could to belittle me and blame me unfairly for his depression and sadness for not being able to live authentically and be honest about who he was.

      At the time when your husband is blaming you, you do truly believe that it’s your fault. Looking back, it is ridiculous to think about how I believed for a second any excuse he gave me. But while you are living it, you take it hook, line and sinker – and allow it to chisel away at your self-esteem piece by piece until you feel no self-worth. It’s a little embarrassing to admit now the excuses he gave – that I actually believed – but it’s important that I share openly so other women in my position will realize how ridiculous the blame game can be.

      While we dated, my husband and I shared passionate French kisses, just like most couples do. Literally the night after we were married – the French kissing stopped – completely. He never would French kiss again, never. I mean seriously, no open mouth whatsoever. He just puckered lips closed for a peck on the lips or cheek from that moment forward. Of course I found this extremely odd. I would try to kiss him passionately, but his lips would remain closed tightly. Finally after numerous embarrassing attempts, I asked him why he would not French kiss me anymore. He replied, “Well, it’s because you have bad breath.” I reminded him that I had tried to French kiss him numerous days/times and he wasn’t willing. How could my breath be a problem when he’d never mentioned it before, ever? He again said that I had bad breath and with that he never, ever, ever French kissed me again.

      Basically from that moment forward the only type of kiss I got was a quick, tight-lipped, ‘peck’ on the cheek. Then if I СКАЧАТЬ