Lesbian log sixteen-zero-four-twenty-one
Emotions are a bitch.
Coming from someone who isn’t overly fond of ‘experiencing’ their emotions, preferring to bury them rather than let them bubble up and flow over me, I gotta say, breakups are a very unpleasant business.
Some days I think I have my head above water, and other times I feel like I’m drowning in grief.
I was recently confronted with my guilt and self-recrimination, thanks to the perceived and assigned role I feel I played in the end of my marriage and nuclear family structure. Basically, I blame myself for everyone’s misery. And it’s not like those feelings aren’t always there and this confrontation blindsided me, it’s just easier for me to push away the hard emotions, to numb the pain, to distract from discomfort than it is to acknowledge the interlopers at my door.
I carry a heavy burden from my separation. I loved my husband very much and he’s in pain. A pain I caused. Not through malice but rather through honesty and love. Our relationship was built on honesty. We had no secrets. There was never any trust issues, no worries about betrayal. We were a solid team built on almost 30 years of communication and openness.
When I discovered I was gay, it was a blow to me and my family. The realization wasn’t welcome and I pushed it away.
Like many on this journey, I thought I was bisexual. I loved a man, but I felt deep in my core that I could also fall in love with a woman. What other explanation was there?
It took therapy, deep soul searching and open communication with my husband to make my discovery. I wasn’t bisexual. I was gay.
Three words—I am gay—battled with three other words: I love you. But in the end, I love you was the reason why we agreed to separate. He couldn’t let me live a half life and I couldn’t let him live a half life. We both deserved something more.
He deserved to be loved in a way I couldn’t express. Despite the friendship and connection we shared, there was always something he felt was missing in our relationship. There were times he felt inadequate, that he wasn’t enough. This discomfort was never enough to end decades of companionship, but with this new revelation perhaps he could feel whole and be wholly loved by someone who could love and cherish him in a way I couldn’t.
Likewise, out of love, he wanted me to feel whole too. I felt inadequate. I was scared I wasn’t enough. Why couldn’t I give him everything he wanted? Why couldn’t I be everything he needed? Why did I feel so lonely and fractured?
We separated out of love and with love. Our relationship was built on giving and everything we did came from a place of love, even letting each other go.
It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. And each day, he is always on my mind and his pain weighs heavy in my heart.
We had 29 years of laughter, joy and beauty. He was my prince in shining armour and I was his princess. We shared an incredible love and life together. My hope is that with time, both of us will find peace.
In gratitude,
Marissa xo