A Few Questions
12 Dec
As a self-confessed control freak, I find nothing more distressing than uncertainty. This stems, perhaps, from my relationship with my father: he never hit me, but his frequent threats to do so left me guarded and skittish. I lived in near-constant dread of provoking an outburst, and the anticipatory tension that wound itself around my spine completely exhausted me. As bizarre as it sounds, I just wanted him to get it over with. Cuts and bruises would heal quickly enough, but the fear never really left me.
Though there is no threat of violence, this situation feels much the same. The walking-on-eggshells anxiety, the crippling indecision, the curling body and constant tension. Am I doing the right thing? Am I being cruel? Am I seeing things how I want to see them, not how they really are? What if I leave and it is a mistake?
I am aware that I sometimes have a ‘grass is greener’ mentality, and that I can occasionally be a bit lazy. I hear so much about people needlessly ending marriages through their own unwillingness to work harder, and I ask myself: is that me? Am I throwing in the towel without even really trying? Is my sexuality just an excuse? I have a good thing here: a caring boyfriend, a beautiful home, a supportive family. Am I tossing it all aside for selfish reasons? Will I ruin my own life, and my son’s, on a whim? Could I learn to fall in love with him again? Should I? The questions flicker across my brain faster than I can process, until I am dizzy and sick with the effort of it.
When I set aside the thorny issue of my sexuality, I know what our relationship problems stem from: D. and I have always struggled to communicate. In the beginning, our vision was tunnelled by passion and our mouths were easily distracted by lustier pursuits. But on dates where this was not an option, the silence broke over us like waves – and while he seemed content with this, I squirmed with discomfort, babbled inanely, and longed for conversation that never came. I remember telling my mother about one of our first dates: I was sitting in a restaurant with D. and staring over at a couple to our left. They were two forty-somethings eating wordlessly with diverted gazes, occupying separate spaces at the same table. In the half an hour since we had arrived, I had not seen them speak once. I asked my mother, with dismay clogging in my throat, ‘Will that be us in ten years?’ And, with the knife-edge of alarm: ‘Is that us now?’
I suppose it matters less how we got here than what we plan to do about it. But that’s the problem: we don’t agree. D. is from determined stock: his family are the type to fix things through sheer force of will, and word ‘surrender’ simply is not in their vocabulary. We often laugh at D.’s dogged attempts to complete impossible tasks. I, on the other hand, have always been rather pragmatic about such things, and my attitude is usually along the lines of ‘Why flog a dead horse?’ Naturally, at this point in our relationship – or lack thereof – we have completely different opinions as to where we should go from here. He wants to try, and try harder, and try harder still…and I am longing to let go.
I suppose, when you think about it, neither option is wrong. But I am more likely to be judged for walking away than for staying. His parents have been together since they were nineteen; his mother surrendered her career after the birth of her first child and never went back since. Despite the fact that I can sometimes see undercurrents of bitterness between them, they have just celebrated their ruby wedding anniversary. Even my mother, who was married to a lying, abusive philanderer, found excuses to stay with her husband for twenty-plus years.
So I am not being pessimistic when I say that they will not understand. Where I grew up, ending a relationship for some wishy-washy reason like ‘unhappiness’ or ‘sexuality’ was considered utter bollocks. If you divorced, it was because he gave you a black eye, or because he shagged all your friends and his idea of a thoughtful gift was a couple of STIs. If you divorced, it was because he’d gambled your life savings or gotten arrested (again) for fighting. A good husband was defined by his ability to put food on the table and avoid beating you senseless. By those standards, D. is an Adonis.
So I am back at square one. Do my feelings justify my exit, or am I just making excuses? Do I stay? Do I try? If I go, will I regret it? Is this my fault? Am I lazy? These aren’t rhetorical questions, by the way. Feel free to pitch in.
hi bee.
i am the girlfriend of a married woman who has just separated from her husband and come out to her friends and family. we found this blog through a stroke of sheer luck and karma probably. we have followed it closely letting the words of jeanette guide us while marveling at how what she spoke was exactly us. we’ve begun to follow your story just the same and it has spawned endless conversations. it is interesting to see your words and also read them as though they ours or hers. the similarities in the stories or little buzz words have left our jaws wide open more than once.
the similarities continue with her family and her husbands as you describe in your story. years of commitment to the end of what we’ve called some ‘arbitrary prize’. years for the sake of years. her parents also spoke of ‘happiness’ and refered to it as fleeting. and urged her to stay with her family and children despite her happiness and sexuality. we’ve come to realize that their reactions are projections of their own poor decisions and their choices in their marriages. if she, or you, do it differently what does it say about them and how they chose to live, or not live as the case may be.
im cut from a different cloth. the child of an alcoholic father and a mother who is one of 8 who have all been divorced. i am the child who watched her parents stay together for the sake of the kids while they hated each other and it destroyed my ability to have a relationship for a long time. they divorced finally when i was 25 and i was ELATED because i wanted them to be happy and i could see it in their future well before they could. i belive in divorce. i believe in happiness. dr. phil while often discreted for whatever reason people deem appropriate says ‘a child would rather be from a broken home than in one’. as a social worker of children, and the child both from a broken home and who lived in one i can tell you this is true. my parents unhappiness sank me further every single day. all i wanted was for them to be happy.
In my life in general and throughout this process with my wonderful girlfriend i have relied on quotes as mantras to keep going. my core’s mantra has been ‘live your life’. it can be that simple bee, i promise you. you are here to live to your fullest happiness and whether you believe it or not, you deserve it and when your boy is old enough to see you as a person, not just a parent, he will be happy you are happy, and it will teach him to live to be happy. i’m sure you’d never want this struggle for him, and you’d want him to be free to live in all the ways he was able. you’ll need to lead by example.
my two favorite quotes of all time are ‘speak your mind, even if your voice shakes’ by Maggie Kuhn. while this is seeming difficult for you you’ve shown us all that you’re absolutely capable of it from your last post, and we are proud. the other quote is ‘regret for things we have done can be tempered by time, it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable’. -Sydney J. Harris. he was right. and the last quote that i will inspire (bore?) you with is ‘the audacity is in the living’. you probably know where this one is from…and it has carried us far.
you gut knows bee. it does. listen to your gut. im pretty sure oprah said you had to. it never lies to you. your anguish and agony is your mind battling your gut. you wouldn’t be this blogger…reaching…asking so hard if your gut wasn’t speaking to you this loudly. it’ll be hard….but ‘the prize is always worth the rocky ride’ (ok i swear im done). though if by some random chance you dont know the wood song, i suggest you find it, as i believe it will speak to you for all you need.
we’re here bee. we care. and we believe in you. live your life.
I found your blog through GREG and although my journey has been very different from yours I just can’t imagine that the questions you are asking of yourself: “Do my feelings justify my exit, or am I just making excuses? Do I stay? Do I try? If I go, will I regret it? Is this my fault? Am I lazy?”, have not been asked by all of us as we come/came to terms with our sexuality, needs and desires.
This is not your fault nor are you lazy and yes you could stay and work at it longer, but isn’t that just prolonging the pain and suffering. Your’s and his? I’d be lying if I didn’t say, “yes you might regret leaving.” You’re human, you don’t want to hurt someone you care about. Even if how you care about them has changed. The thing to keep in mind is “Will you regret NOT leaving more?” My guess is yes.
In my own life the one thing I finally figured out when I admitted that I was sexually attracted to women was that I deserved a chance to be truely happy, to be loved, and to actually LOVE someone else. I didn’t know if I was capable of any of that, and I awas scared shitless. (Sometimes I still am) But I deserved the chance. It was that or stop living all together.
Good Luck