It was a very rainy morning.
We had left early. She had to be there by 7:00AM. It was dark when we left. It was very windy. And it was foreshadowing our day.
When I had completed my initial entry to this blog I sent her the link. She was at work and wasn’t able to view it from her computer (apparently sexual content is frowned upon ;). I told her that she could get to it through her phone but to wait until her day was over.
We had a pretty nice evening as I recall. The arguments of the previous day were but a painful memory. She got home after I had left for my 12 step meeting. We met up afterward and went for a drink.
We discussed my meeting, it was really bad, and my ensuing call with my therapist. Unwisely, I told her everything we had talked about. We decided that was a bad idea and that we would speak only generalities when discussing our therapies.
When we got home we hit the bed. Even though she was dead tired, she stayed up and talked with me for at least an hour. Right as she was about to fall asleep I finally asked if she had read the blog. She had.
What did you think?
It’s so sad.
Do you have any questions?
Yes, but they’re inappropriate.
What are they?
Not now, let me sleep.
Morning finally arrived. It was time to go. As we pulled out of the driveway I asked her again.
:::CAUTION!::: The remainder of this post is pretty graphic from here on.
What where those inappropriate questions?
(I knew exactly what the questions would be. I wrote it leaving pretty big clues. I wanted to tell her, I just needed her to ask about it)
Who did it (molested me)?
Your dad’s brother!?
No, he was more like a great uncle or something.
We chatted about that for a bit. And then the big questions began.
What did he do? Did he make you touch it?
Was that all?
Did he make you suck it?
Oh my god.
It gets worse.
I explained how things had completed and how I cleaned myself. Since I was fishing, all I had to do was wash my face and rinse out my mouth in the lake.
She finished her business and we began the drive back. I told her how I had done research about recovery for adult survivors of sexual child abuse.
There are a lot of resources online
A little bit of small talk. And then came the revelations.
I talked about the myths of male victims. How it is common for them to become sexually excited and even ejaculate, all while they are having contact against their wishes.
She understood because it’s a physiological response.
I had to explain that I had apparently received sexual pleasure from it.
“I got an erection. I came too.”
I then told her about how that specific part of the experience has been causing me incredibly confusing thoughts, emotions and desires ever since. She asked if I had ever questioned my orientation.
Yes, I know what I am.
What are you?
Are you gay?
It was at this point we entered the crossroads in our relationship. She really has about 3 options in this situation.
Berate me with constant punishment
A little over 2 years ago she busted me. I had been having a back and forth email conversation with some guy off of Craigslist. I remember zero details about the email exchange. She, however, remembers it all. Based on what she has said before, I have a pretty good idea what my role was.
I was returning home from work when she called.
“What the fuck is this?” is how I remember it starting.
What are you talking about?
These craigslist emails.
Shit. I was busted. There wasn’t much for me to do here. So I told her we would talk about it when I got home. That have me about 30 minutes to concoct some bullshit story that might keep my secret safe.
She confronted me. I bullshitted her. It worked. Kind of.
Fast forward 2 years. It was about 2 weeks ago.
Have you ever been with anyone else?
There has never been another woman in my life.
What about men?
Was the Craigslist thing real?
I was lying. This was after I had just begun treatment. I bald-faced lied to my wife to protect my secret life.
I always knew this day would come. All those years ago when the really bad stuff started happening I knew it. I would deny it to myself. “Another year down without her knowing” and the old standby, “what she don’t know won’t hurt her.”
But deep down, in my gut and the back of my mind, I knew today was going to happen. I knew the longer I put it off the worse it would get. It was at this exact moment that all of the memories, the guilt, shame and the desire to tell the truth descended upon me at the same time.
Alcoholics call this the moment of clarity.
As we drove along, I told her I was scared to give her the secret.
I’m afraid you’ll call me a cocksucker.
I would never do that.
I don’t remember the next exchange at all. I do remember it led to the big one.
Was the craigslist thing real?
Your silence answers the question.
Right then and there was my moment of clarity. Immediately, my mind said “do the right thing!”
I admitted it.
What do you want to know? I’m an open book. If you want the icky details I’ll give them.
Have you ever had an affair?
Have you ever been with another woman?
Have you ever been with a man?
I told her about being at the porn theater. How I had left my door unlocked and a guy just came right in. I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him. I told her about watching him do his thing.
Is that all?
No other occurrences?
We talked about it for a few minutes. She wasn’t through.
Are you sure there weren’t any women?
Any other men?
This was it. The day had arrived. I couldn’t lie any more. I had tried to keep it to myself. I couldn’t do it anymore. I was broken.
Did you do anything else other than watch the guy?
Did you touch him?
Yes. There were others too.
At the same time?
No. Different times.
Did you ever have a regular guy?
Did you touch all of them?
Did you suck their dicks?
Yes (as I burst into tears).
Are you gay?
How do you know? You said you were confused.
I told her how I can’t look at a man and fall in love with him. It wasn’t about that. It was strictly sexual. That I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life with a woman. A man cannot be a parent to my children. That no man or woman could ever take her place.
We talked about it for a very long time. I had to pull I to a parking lot due to my crying. She asked her questions and I answered them all.
I was surprised by 2 things. The amount of detail in her questions and that she wasn’t crying. She was pretty much emotionless. Incredibly clinical. She said that she couldn’t believe her reaction either.
“I don’t know if it’s because I’m emotionally numb from the shock or if it’s because Iv’e always known
That’s the thing about your spouse. They always know when something is off. I had lied our entire marriage. She knew it was bullshit. At least she knew deep down. It’s pretty clear that she didn’t WANT to believe it, but she knew. She held onto the craigslist thing for more than 2 years. She totally knew my excuse was bullshit. I guess my stories, lies and cover-ups must have had just enough plausibility that she couldn’t nail it down one way or the other.
I had taken advantage of her trusting nature. I had betrayed her.
The worst thing that I’ve done is blowing dudes. That specific exchange is played in my head over and over.
“Did you suck their dicks?”
It’s the worst thing to me. I see that as the ultimate in betrayal. I see it that way because, with her, I see oral sex as the ultimate display of love and intimacy. And I go and do it to random dudes at a theater.
Do you have any diseases?
How do you know?
I never ingested anything.
It doesn’t matter. It can get through your skin or sores in your mouth.
Should we get tested?
It’s too late now.
[Yeah, it is too late.]
“Did you suck their dick?”
Over and over and over.
The shame I felt was the worst thing ever. I couldn’t look at her. When I knew she was looking at me I had to turn my head. If I looked at her I would burst into tears.
“I love you and I’m not going away.”
Those were the most beautiful words ever spoken to me. Ever.
Later we went and got dinner. It was question time again.
How did it start?
I legitimately forgot to lock the door. A guy walked in and I didn’t say anything. We just started.
Did you ever kiss a guy?
I told her that in my twisted logic and reasoning, kissing someone would be cheating. Kissing another man would be gay. It’s insane that I didn’t believe having a dude’s dick in my mouth was even remotely gay.
She asked about the theater.
Is it clean?
Someone comes around and mops every once and awhile.
You just leave it on the floor!?
Gross! It must smell terrible.
What? Does cum have a smell?
Oh (that’s something I truly didn’t know).
A few more questions and we were home. I told her that I thought it best for us to stop for the day.
“Yeah, I’m on overload right now.”
“Did you suck their dick?”
It just rattles around my mind; over and over and over. It seriously will not stop.
It was interesting that as I told her everything and answered her questions, I literally felt a weight removed from me. We both knew disclosure was coming. We were supposed to do it with both our therapists present to walk is through it. She had the best line- “stuff happens.” And that is exactly right.
I don’t know if we will ever recover from this. I told her that she was hearing life altering material. She agreed. And she also agreed that we may never recover from this. But this day had to happen. It provides us a fresh starting point. A place where she can start believing me and begin her recovery.
She told me that she had a new respect for me. That we have a new level of intimacy.
That’s true. She has hold of my deepest, darkest secret. I have made myself totally and completely vulnerable to her.
She has a lot to think about. Thankfully she begins therapy in 3 days. She has a shit-ton to unload on her therapist. If only I could be a fly on that wall.
I’m very interested in how this will be handled. I would truly love to know what she says about this. I don’t know her mind. I can never get inside of it. I only get what she gives me. One of our problems is that she doesn’t give very much of that.
Part of me thinks that it would be fascinating to listen in on that session. The other part would be horrified at what was said. It can’t possibly be a real positive climate for me. I’m clearly the antagonist in this story. I’m not sure that I could emotionally deal with what she unloads on this lady.
I told her that I’ve done all I can do. She says she wants to believe me, but every other time she believed me I betrayed her.
If, for some crazy reason, you’ve made it this far in my post, I leave you with this. I have taken control of what I can control. I have learned, just today, that I cannot control her mind; no matter how hard I try.
It all comes down to this:
God, Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.