This morning I asked my wife whether she remembered writing me a letter approximately 18 months ago in which she promised to love me again if only I would stop visiting places where homosexual men are known to gather.
At the time, I refused to do so, and I issued my own set of conditions if such a proposition was to be fulfilled.
In answer to my question, she acknowledged the letter and I asked her if she recalled the promises she had set out should her wishes be met.
I have met her conditions for the last eighteen months, but they have been the hardest months of my life. I am in constant anguish and my constant suffering feels like an illness -not the fact of being gay, but the suppression of my identity and the requirement to live my life in a controlled manner.
My wife asked me an earnest question. How can I support you to be gay, How can I normalize it within our marriage?
My answer, please acknowledge it, don’t fear it, try to love me rather than attempt to control me.
Let me speak to those whom know my truth and don’t feel fearful that here is something in those talks which are against you.
Laugh at me, laugh with me – point out the truth and hold me and show me that you are no longer afraid.
Draw me in to your circle of trust, nurse my wounds and I will repay you one hundredfold.
This earnest question feels like a turning point, not to a guaranteed life-long happiness, but to a moment of connection from which a clear choice has to be made by her in respect of whether she can drop her fear of me, and embrace my truth and become the soulmate for which I have longed for so long.