Saturday October 3rd 1992 will be a day etched into my memories forever.

Or so I had thought.

It was on this day, October 3rd, that is, 24 years ago, that I discovered my husband was having sex with men.

Which in the crevices of my mind, meant he was gay.

Which at the very least meant, he was no longer the straight man I had believed him to be for years prior.

Which meant, he was anything but.

He was bent in ways I couldn’t have even begun to have imagined, had it not been playing out in my real life.

He wasn’t gay or so he’d tell me.

Yet I was convinced he was, for years.

Tell me what man who has sex with men, isn’t gay?

How could these men be anything but?

My conditioning had led me to this belief and it took me many a year to release its hold over me.

Absorbing the reality that my husband was indeed what he, eventually, told me he was, as far as his sexual expression goes – bisexual.

A man who swings more ways than one.

So what’s so important about this date today? Given it’s the morning of the 14th October 2016, well it is in the glorious part of the world I reside in.

It wasn’t until last night, I realised October 3rd had been and gone and I didn’t even give it a second thought nor a first one at that.

No memory recall of this day having any significance to me at all.
None.
Not an itch.
Not a scratch.
Not a tug on my heart strings.
No murmur in my cellular memory.
Nothing.

October 3rd has no hold over me any more whatsoever. A date I had believed would haunt me for the rest of my living life, and then some.

For years the approach of this date had me dreading its appearance.

Its recollection of my once happily ever after being so savagely ripped away from my once delicate and innocent hands.

Over the years, and years, and years, its hold over me relaxed to a degree I could breathe again, as I was no longer strangled by what it once held me too.

I was still aware of its presence.

No scathing attachments.

In later years it became a marker of how far I’d come.

How far we’d come, together, to build the relationship we love and have grown into today.

For it to pass this year with me completely missing it.

That’s freedom.
That’s healing at its very core.
That’s forgiveness.
Trust.
Love, in the most unconditional kind.

It’s how I roll now.

It’s how we roll now.

As Rachel Hunter once said for an ad campaign she was doing at the time on Aussie TV, “it won’t happen overnight, but it will happen”.

In other words, it does get better.

It really, truly, in all honesty does get better.

It may take a lot of hard work.
Overcoming heartache.
Negotiating and renegotiating, again and again and again.
It will definitely take working on yourself.

Freeing yourself from societies conditioning, conformity and piercing eyes.
Letting go of what other people think of you and how you choose to live your life with your bisexual husband (partner).
It requires you to choose your own adventure – design your own relationship. One that works for the two of you and your children (if you have any).
Which also means, making up your own rules.

Yes, it will most certainly take forgiveness.
Love, lots and lots of love, including love for self.
Communicating effectively.
Trust.
And time.
Plenty of time, if so be.

If you remember nothing else, please remember, you are worth it.
The bisexual man in your life, he’s worth it too.
Your relationship is also worth it.

4 Comments. Leave new

  • I can imagine it was a big overcoming for you and Andrew. I am just a little bit curious as to whether your reaction, or journey, and y s it’s a big hat if, if it had been another woman?

    I dint mean to ask this to be provocative, maybe a little, but in being so open, honest and vulnerable about your lives, I’m sure you expect people to ak such questions. Why else share this otherwise?

    Reply
    • Hi Matthew,

      What I get from what you’ve asked is – would it have been such a big deal if it had been another woman? Great question by the way and you’re not the first to ask it.

      Having not had that actual experience of it being another woman, my belief remains, yes, it would have been much easier if it was other women Andrew was having sex with. For so many reasons. One of which is I would have at least been able to compete on some sort of equal playing field, having all the bits required. As it was, I was lacking one most vital ingredient.

      I do cover this, and more, in my book Sexual Biversity, Loving my bisexual husband, if your curiosity is peaked more.

      Cheers,
      Lyndal ?

      Reply
  • Great message Lyndall – happy non-iversary :). It is SO worth the effort <3

    Reply

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