Thirty-nine years.  That’s how long we would have been married.

That’s an enormous number. I’m not sure I have quite gotten my mind around it.  Of course, we have been divorced for twenty-five. That’s another big number.

It’s bigger, still, when I realize how old I’m getting, and when I have conversations with men friends and feel myself keeping them at arms length, looking askance at what might well be ordinary male behavior or perspective (Particularly Alpha Male doings) —

because the fact is, I don’t trust any more.  I’d like to.  I look at some of my men friends and I know they are good men.

But DH was also a “good man,” and look how that turned out.  If he could deceive so completely, how can I trust anyone?

I don’t.

New Contributor: Moira Greyland

Moira’s tied up this week, and I was impatient to introduce her, so I’m sharing this here, with her permission, and letting you know she will be posting here from time to time as a Contributor to this blog.

Here’s her story.   It’s upsetting and distressing, but I can’t help feeling it’s not atypical.

There are more victims of this rainbow movement than anyone has yet considered.

Why I Oppose Gay Marriage — Part Three: My Gay (ex-)Husband

It’s not “just about (me.)”  I don’t oppose gay “marriage” out of personal resentment.  This issue is a lot bigger than my personal feelings (which are a lot more complicated than mere resentment).

When DH left us and began to openly hang out with his gay friends, his personality underwent a distinct change.  It wasn’t for the better.  The energetic, cheerful, beautiful boy who was always eager to help others, kind, compassionate . . . the “chaplain” of our circle of friends for more than a decade! – became cold, angry, remote.  His sense of humor vanished; he became crude and sarcastic.

This wasn’t just a matter of resentment towards me, as the villain ex-wife; he pushed away all our old friends, friends who loved him and would have accepted him regardless his lifestyle choices.  But suddenly they were “stupid,” “idiotic,” or some other quality that left them unworthy of continuing his friendship.

Through DH and a couple of gay neighbors and coworkers over the years, I’ve noticed that the gay community is badly mis-named “gay.”  Maladjusted, angry, resentful, hypercritical, backbiting . . .  the list of unhappy adjectives grows and grows.  It’s not about lack of social acceptance, either; even in safe, loving environments, even with a privileged status in our society, now, homosexuals are not gay by any stretch of the imagination.  Camp, maybe, but certainly not gay.

What does this have to do with gay marriage? And why would I want to deprive someone I claim I love of the comforts and benefits of a life partnership?

The real issue isn’t about “rights” or recognition; it’s about people being at war within themselves.  DH is angry because he’s at war with himself. His choices have violated the very best of who he is. I know that, and our friends see it, and on a deep level I think he knows it, too. Knows it and resents it.

See, the more you have that should make you happier, the more you resent that you aren’t happy, you blame everyone else and set a new objective to achieve, certain it will resolve the restlessness you’re feeling.

So the “program” isn’t working for gays.  When “progress” creates more bitterness and aggression, then the program is an utter failure.  Gay marriage won’t make gays happier; it is just one more false ideal to push toward.

Angry people make lousy spouses.  And legitimating gay marriage will, I fear, only further entrap miserable and bitter men and women in a lifestyle that has sucked the joy out of them, and replaced joy and well-being with misery and resentment. I see gay men and women becoming not more contented with the progress they’ve made in social recognition and approbation, but more and more hostile and aggressive. Fighting everyone as well as themselves, and getting more deeply entrenched the whole time.  

I want DH to be free of these traps. I want him to be honest with himself and true to his best self.  Gay marriage won’t give that to him; in fact, it will give him just the opposite, the inverse, of what he wants.

 

 

Why I Oppose Gay Marriage — Part Two: The Children

I’m more than contented to let Robert Oscar Lopez and Dawn Stefanowicz and their various colleagues reveal to the world the intricate and painful realities of growing up in a gay household. As a straight spouse, I’m concerned with something a bit more basic:

Gay households deprive children the opportunity of learning to orient toward the same and opposite sex in wholesome ways.

I think it bears repeating:  homosexuality isn’t about sex; it’s about one’s orientation toward the same and the opposite sex in all dimensions of human relationship.  Kids need to see the camaraderie, the collegiality that can exist in opposite-sex friendships. They need to get a sense of a wholesome and emotionally healthy identity of masculine-feminine. They need to observe heterosexual relationships. They need to get a sense of the complementarity of masculine and feminine natures.

This just isn’t offered in gay households. The gay community is insular. There aren’t many who, given the choice, mingle with heterosexuals. That means their children are overwhelmingly socialized amongst homosexuals, not heterosexuals.  And homosexuals’ dynamic is rooted in what the late Leanne Payne referred to as the rejection of the True Masculine/True Feminine. Consequently, kids raised in a gay household are not going to be emotionally and psychologically grounded in their own gender identity.

I think this is overwhelmingly revealed in California, where the earliest pediatric transgender cases hitting the news media are the kids of lesbian couples — boys becoming girls.

But even apart from such drastic examples (which, in my opinion, are worse than unethical – they are criminal and should result in the children being removed from that household and placed in protective custody), imagine the self-doubt that occurs in kids who have gay parents!  Kids go through a phase, in early puberty, of intense friendship.  This experience is healthy and normal; a century or so ago, it was not uncommon for girls to have crushes on women teachers or other role models, to walk around with an arm around one another. . .  now that ordinary, wholesome experience has been sexualized to the detriment of our children.  “If Mom/Dad is gay, does this mean I’m gay, too?”

Kids bond with their parents.  That means it has to be so much harder for the daughter of a gay man to learn to bond with heterosexual men; she simply doesn’t know what real masculinity looks and feels like, she’s thoroughly oriented — imprinted — through her relationship with her father.

Now, these concerns are not irreversible. Gay parents could be proactive, taking the initiative to socialize their kids with their own heterosexual friends.  But will they? None of the ones I know think it’s anything to bother about.

Why I Oppose Gay Marriage – Part One: The Straight Spouses

A conversation this week with a new acquaintance raised the old-for-me question: why do I oppose gay marriage? Don’t gays deserve equal rights with heterosexuals? Don’t I want them to have the same opportunities for happiness I enjoy?

Why do I deviate from the “Straight Spouse” standard reply that, because I love my ex-husband, I want him to be happy in his “real self”?  After all, how does gay marriage hurt me, individually? personally? —

Discussing abstract realities is always difficult, and this is an abstract; that is, it’s a reality that cannot be known by our physical senses (touch, sight, hearing, taste, etc.). Nevertheless, I keep coming to a place where I have to try to — not persuade, that’s not in my sphere of influence! But I do hope to speak well enough that people get even a partial glimpse of how I see things, from “behind my eyeballs” as it were.  So I keep trying, hoping the same old responses don’t feel tired to the person who’s reading them, while I keep reaching for better ways to say what I perceive and feel.

The question “how does gay marriage hurt you?” is bantered about like a challenge the opponent is suppose to yield, unable to defend.  But gay marriage does hurt me.  It hurts all of us.

Gay marriage suggests that there is no distinction between the sexes, that we are interchangeable parts of a social construct. This is an attitude that demeans me as a woman — demeans all women (and men, too). It says we have no intrinsic value or worth due our sex.  It says that the rejection of the opposite sex in favor of a different type of union is acceptable and laudable.

It also says that I have no value as a wife — that unique relationship to a husband that simply cannot be replicated in same-sex unions.  Of course, this is why California has abandoned the language of gender and opted for “Spouse One and Spouse Two” in their legal processes.

I was demeaned in my marriage to a homosexual.  I was unworthy of companionship, of basic, nonsexual affection. I was merely a personified abstract — a Wife — behind which my then-husband could hide. This misogynistic attitude is only legitimated through a recognition of gay marriage: it is a society saying that I, as a woman and as a wife, have no meaning, no value.  I am again only a personified abstract, this time expected to approve the very things that diminish my worth and render me inconsequential.

This I will not do.

Still here

I just concluded a conversation with a new friend who, it turned out, knows this blog.  He told me I have more people watching it than I realized —- and that some had assumed that maybe I’d changed my mind about gay marriage, the whole fight, really, because I’ve been inactive so long.

I’ve not.  My opinions are not only unchanged since I began this blog, I find them being more and more strongly confirmed as more men and women come out with their own stories about toxic marriages to gays, or the sufferings of their being raised by gay parents.

The embarrassing truth of it is that having sole responsibility for this blog and being so immersed in this subject matter is oppressive to my spirit.  I live with depression (and, btw, I have yet to meet a former spouse of a homosexual who doesn’t also battle The Black Dog) and sometimes I have to budget my low energy levels as miserly as I can in order to cover the necessities.

But I’m so grateful — no, I’m still sitting here well after midnight shaking my head . . . simply amazed at being known and recognized and  told “Oh, yeah, you’re quite well known among my friends —” —

So let me take a moment to tell you all hello, and to thank you for looking for this blog and for your prayers and whatever positive thoughts you’ve had about what I do, here.

I’ve been collecting things to post here.  I’m looking for a couple other women to post, as well.  I won’t abandon this blog completely — even though sometimes I find I don’t have energy sufficient to post.

The fight really is just beginning.

Getting through it all SOBER

My friend Gina – her husband left her about ten years ago for another man – ugly, ugly situation. Her doctor gave Gina something to “help her relax.”  The drug was Ativan — and he’s had her on it for EIGHT YEARS.

There’s something unconscionable and unethical about putting a patient on an addictive drug for that long.

And did Gina need it in the first place?

Look, of COURSE your nerves are shot — you’ve been living with a homosexual – a misogynist – for how many years? And now you know the insanity you’ve been blaming on yourself (and he’s probably been blaming you for) is because he’s homosexual? and the earth is rocking and rolling under your feet and you don’t know which end is up and at any minute you’re absolutely sure you’re going to toss your cookies?

WELL, DUH — of COURSE YOUR NERVES ARE FRAYED. OF COURSE EVERYTHING AROUND YOU IS GOING BATSHIT CRAZY.

IT is — not you.

And so you toss your cookies.  Is it really the worst thing that can happen to you? Personally, I think continuing to live with a psychologically abusive and severely disturbed spouse is far, far more undesirable.

Look.  You can take the immediately easy way out and medicate with booze or prescription drugs in order to numb the immediate oh-God-I’m-losing-my-mind feelings.  But I’m telling you, you’ll still have to face the music when you sober back up or the prescription expires.  And if you’re on the junk long enough, you’ll have compounded problems, coming off the crutch AND facing your reality all at one time.

Problem is, the crisis doesn’t go away just because your brain checks out for a while. It will sit and wait for you, however long you try to run away from it.

It’s a LOT easier to grit your teeth and just body-surf through the batshit crazy until you can find some terra firma to plant your feet on.  It takes ten times as much work to pull yourself BACK together as it would have done simply to hang on for dear life in the first place.  Yes, that’s a borrow from Mockingjay — in which book too damn many needles are used to get Katniss and Finnick — to CONTROL THEM instead of healing them. Because, dammit all, it’s so much easier to drug your way through a crisis than it is to have to think and work your way through.  Until you sober up and the emotional upheaval is still right there waiting to say GOTCHA!
Stay sober.  Honestly.