THE BOAT IN THE DRIVEWAY

Judge not...

One day, while I was listening to a group of women talking, I was saddened as their discussion turned to a subject that I believe was not very Christlike.  In the beginning, they were not talking about any particular person, but just about a certain group of people in general.  Frankly, they were being somewhat critical or judgmental of  'some people', who receive financial help from our church, in the form of money, food, meals, gas, medical care, etc.   One of the ladies revealed that she knew of a family who had received assistance from the church when they actually owned a very large, expensive boat, that was sitting in their driveway,... which she felt was a luxury item that should have been sold to help with the family's financial struggles.

This person's opinion and judgement of her neighbor's needs bothered me deeply.

It just happens that, through the years, we have always had a boat, of some sort or another,  parked in our driveway.   But, most of our neighbors would not know the truth, that all of 'our' boats have always been jointly owned between several family members, and, 'our house' just happens to be the designated parking place.  Our personal investment in 'the family boat' is always very minimal, and we are never in a position to sell the boat, as it is an important family tradition for my husband's siblings to always share ownership of a boat.   (And, by the way,  the biggest, fanciest one of all, was obtained for an extremely low price, as a favor to take it off the hands of a family who was no longer able to use it.)  

Since I know the 'inside story' about our boat,  it had never occurred to me that our neighbors might be 'judging' us unfairly because of the boat in our driveway.

I am also aware of a situation where a woman with several young sons lost her husband to cancer.  This little family owned a boat that provided much precious time together for the  father and his sons before he died.  After his death, the woman was struggling and doing all that she could to pay for the funeral expenses, and so she reluctantly put their boat up for sale to help with her financial difficulties.  When a special neighbor, and member of her church, heard about this,  he purchased the boat, paid her the money, and then gave the boat back to her and her boys as a gift.  He insisted that they keep the boat in their driveway just as it had always been, and reminded them that he would always be available to take the boys fishing and water skiing, etc.  

I assume that most people in that neighborhood don't know the 'inside story' about this struggling widow's family, so I hope that no one is judging them unfairly because of the boat in their driveway, 

We,  Mr. & Mrs. I Define Me, have a very serious and secret 'inside story', related to our marriage and family life, that only three of our neighbors know.  I'm sure it would be extremely surprising to most of our neighbors if they knew the truth about my husband's same sex attraction, our history of marital struggles, the private and personal heartaches that we each have endured, and the amazing strength that we have somehow managed to muster up to rise above these trials and establish the wonderful relationship of true love, complete fidelity, and genuine respect, that we now enjoy today.

I confess, there have been some times of serious dysfunction in our family, some of it might just be 'typical' American family ciaos and a lack of organization, but probably a good share of the time, the secret trials that we were facing did take a tole on our family and home.  

I remember a time when one of our daughter overheard a conversation as one of our neighbor's told someone that I was so "irresponsible".  Maybe this woman would have been more understanding and kind if she had known the 'inside story' about our trials.

On another occasion, I was made aware of the fact that a woman, who did not know me at the time, was being told a little about me as she was going to be working with me on a church project.  I don't know any of the details about what this woman was told about me, but her 'well meaning' comment about the conversation is quite telling,  she said, "well, they told me all about you, but I  LIKE YOU!".  (lol)   Although this could have been very hurtful to me, I actually just felt charitable towards those poor, uninformed women, who clearly don't know the 'inside story' of my life, and who I feel confident would be much more forgiving and kind towards me if they only knew the truth about what I was going through.

Also, there have been times when I felt so very inadequate as I have often found myself comparing myself to my amazing 'superwoman' sisters and sisters-in-law.  Sometimes it's quite discouraging to watch my family members (who I truly love so very much) as they accomplish great and wonderful things that are so impressive to their families, neighbors, and friends.   And since it seems that, so often, I personally struggle to just make it through the day, I can easily get caught up in my own pity party as I wish  my life was a little more like theirs, or that I was a little more like them.   

One day, as we were driving home from a family get together, I openly shared my feelings of inadequacies with my husband, as I ran down the list of what great qualities and talents each of these special woman in my life possess.  (I had no hard feelings towards any of them as I truly love each of them dearly - I just wished that I was more like them in some ways).  

Anyway, my husband jumped right in and insisted that no piano playing, scrap booking, calf roping, quilt making, school teaching, home decorating, marathon running, gun slinging, community volunteering, yoga instructing, gardener could ever compare to my patience, forgiveness, spirituality, and love as we have secretly walked through the fire together, have experienced things that could have caused others to crumble, and ultimately come to such an amazing and respectable  place of  deep commitment, joy, peace, and love.   Of course, I don't believe that any of my wonderful sisters and/or sisters-in-law ever size me up against them, or that any of them would judge me in any way (cause they are all extremely good and kind and loving).  But, my husband pointed out that if any of these woman knew the 'inside story' about my life they would be shocked and humbled and full of compassion and love.   Actually, I know that he is right and that it's true.

Maybe, the most important lesson here is that I  realize and understand that I don't know their 'inside stories', and that I should not be judging any of  them by the cleanliness of their houses, or the quilts on their beds, or the jars in their pantries, or the flexibility of their muscles, or the horses in their fields, or the boats in their driveways.

WHO HURTS WORSE? Another perspective of 'Hell'

PART III - the children (well, one of the children - now an adult)

(Jr. I Define Me here) -

“The GEM cannot be polished without friction” Chinese proverb.

I  think so many people look at this situation and feel sorry for my mom, and place blame on my dad. It was not that way for me at all. Actually before I found out, I feel I believed more that the dysfunction in our family was my mom’s fault. I love her dearly and now have a different view about her and the turmoil growing up. Here is a little about what I experienced before I found out my dad is gay and some of my perception I had of the turmoil.

For the first ten yrs of my life before he told my mom, it was a completely “normal” or balanced feel within our family. All I remember was love, laughter, fun, and family. He taught me so many things such as how to YELL and SCREAM if someone ever “grabbed me” or attempted to kidnap me and even made me practice by coming up and grabbing me and running trying to hold me down and I had to yell and bite and kick and scream “ HE”S NOT MY DADDY!! HE’S NOT MY DADDY!!”. He taught me how to punch a boy (bully) in the nose and that I do it HARD, so it bleeds. We went camping, fishing, and riding horses with family. We went to parks, festivals, and swimming. We had a many different boats throughout my young life and we used to go boating a lot in the summer. My dad taught me how to water ski when I was 7yrs old, and we (eldest and I) tubed behind the boat for so long we would lose our voices. We packed picnics and grew gardens, huge vegetable gardens, and my parents both held us accountable for our actions.

We were caught up in all the normal family things like school, homework, weekends, and movies, Christmas, church, moving from apartments to houses, dance and so many other things families do.  Dad was ALL the wonderful things a dad was supposed to be. He was loving, supportive, outgoing. He and my mom made a good team and I never felt scared or alone or wondered what was wrong with anyone.

When I turned 12 is when my world seemed to turn into something I was unsure of. I was untrusting of my mom and her emotions and I did not feel I could confide in my dad about anything. The dysfunction did seem to be an underlying thing, like a lava, we could not predict when an eruption would happen but we knew it was there. The true core of our family was more obvious and manifested through my parents definite perseverance to have a loving happy family. Much of the time throughout these “bad years” we were a happy, loving, family in my perception; then lava erupted and us kids felt separated from our parents, trying to understand what was happening, and why, but no real concrete answers ever presented itself. As these years went on the “eruptions” seemed more frequent, more powerful, and as kids we were feeling less confident in our parents relationship.

Before I found out, and especially throughout those 13 yrs when my dad was doing the “down low” activity, I personally felt more sympathy for my dad that he was “putting up with my mom” for so long.
When I stated before that sometimes I wished for divorce, it was because I felt my dad deserved better than my mom and her crazy tantrums and emotional outbursts. Without knowing the cause, I felt my mom was the problem within the marriage. I witness so much more dysfunction visibly from my mom, and watched my dad so often allow it, and he even seemed to humbly, and passively comply to these antics.

Now Dad got angry too. When he did HE WAS ANGRY! It was scary when my dad became angry at any of us. My main perception of the most dysfunction, was right before Eldest moved out and then maybe 5 years after that, from about age 13 till I turned 18 and moved out myself. During that time I feel my parents fought more often when we kids were not around, but my mom’s hurt could not help but BOIL OVER into the home and to us kids. She seemed to always be scowling and unhappy, and I felt for some of my teenage yrs she might have had schizophrenia. She was hot and cold, and up and down. She would come in from the grocery store and be fine, then walk in to the kitchen and if it was a mess she would go lock herself inside her room and cry for hours.  I thought she was crying over dirty dishes.

One time I remember she walked in and took a dirty plate from the sink and broke it over the sink and counter, and then walked into the bedroom and stayed in there the rest of the day. To a child this was internalized as a very visible problem with mom, not dad. She seemed angry at dad so much of the time and I mostly took my dad’s side. I saw my mom mad at my dad more often, and dad seemed only to defend himself against her. I had sympathy for them both but I often felt that if they divorced it was because my dad was finally DONE dealing with my crazy mom.  I even felt that I would go choose to live with dad.

Still, they always stayed together, and even when they were fighting, I knew they loved each other. I remember watching Ratatouille ( Disney movie with a rat chef) and there is a part in the beginning when the rat (Remi) is running through an apartment complex and he passes a French couple where the woman is pointing a gun to the man, and he cries,  “YOU WOULDN’T DARE!”,  then the gun goes off and Remi returns to see them both passionately kissing each other. I saw that and thought “THAT’S IT!! My parents are FRENCH!!” this was before I found out about my dad. 

My dad did always back up my mom, and when I would complain to him about her, he never allowed me to be disrespectful. I felt it was unfair in my immaturity, that my dad, who I thought would agree about my mom’s emotional outbursts, would not take my side but instead tell me to “honor my mother for all of my days.”

My dad was more disassociated with us kids during that time period. He hardly asked me how my day was, or how school was. He didn’t seem interested in my likes and dislikes, or extracurricular activities. After an accomplishment, or a recital he was proud, and giddy and loving and excited. These are some of my favorite memories of my dad, but it was mom who was the glue to my school life and everything else in between. I just couldn’t trust her emotions or mood. It was like a rollercoaster with her. With my dad, it was more obvious he was comfortable and free in the family and at home but disconnected in a way.

Even when they separated for a few weeks, I felt that it was all so confusing. I remember the tension but there did not seem to be any real reason, other than some fighting over bills and petty stuff like that. Then one morning my parents were getting ready for something and leaving me to babysit my 2 younger siblings (which I did OFTEN) and suddenly my mom came running in and shut herself into her bedroom, and dad came in and asked us kids to come listen to him. He told us he was leaving and he was not coming back. He was crying and looked so unhappy, but as I listened, I felt I was not surprised. I was maybe 14yrs old. When I told my neighbor friends about my dad leaving, they asked why, and what happened…….. I honestly thought long and hard about it and had no good answer. I said my mom had been acting crazy, and they fought about bills and money. My friends, especially the one with divorced parents were expecting something more than that as an explanation.

Then one day my dad came back, about 2 weeks later (could be wrong, I feel I misremember a lot as I blocked much of it.) and I do not remember any kind of reconciliation or them speaking to us about what happened. Maybe they can clear this one up within a post ;-)

There were very confusing and painful things going on between my parents as we grew up. I want to say one more time though, they always obviously LOVED OUR FAMILY and worked very very hard to do their best at shielding us from the problems, and teaching us how to be good, functioning, honest and contributing members of society. They went to great lengths to put aside the turmoil and work together for their children’s sake. They pushed through more hellfire and brimstone then I could ever imagine to define their lives the way they felt was best for them.

My mother especially deserves praise and high honor for the part she played within keeping our family and their marriage together. She fought through the tears and the torment and did her best to put on her “brave face” and be the glue needed to keep us together. I will always be grateful for the example she was in a situation she had full right to literally fall apart, and give up. Her strength is exemplary.
For me having a full understanding of this, and forgiveness for them both, I feel I am a stronger more aware person. I can withstand trials I have been faced with, and feel confident in my power to observe, decide and conquer any and all things in my life.  In finding out about my dad it gave me more understanding about my mom’s antics, and my dads role within that. I was so sorry I had blamed her for so many years. I also then felt compassion for my dad and his struggles.  I do not remember any anger.
In talking with my dad he was so humble and sorry about his actions and the toll they took on everyone. He still is. In deciding to do this blog and in writing much of the posts, I talk with my dad, and he weeps everytime. I have never seen a person who realizes the devastating things they have done, be more meek and humble about it. He understands fully that we may have never forgiven him for some of his actions and choices, and I know he still feels the deep regret of the risks he was taking and the pain and dysfunction he caused.  I look at my life, and I am thankful my dad asked my mom to marry him. I am thankful my mom stayed through the hurt and turmoil. I am thankful I have siblings to share my life with. I am thankful I have my own children who show me everyday how precious life is and teach me why my parents worked so hard to save their family.  No one is perfect. We are all children of God.

I am thankful for my family. I am thankful for our trials.
         
DISCLAIMER: This is solely MY perception of MY family and OUR personal story. I believe there are more roads to happiness then anyone could imagine. I hope every person may find happiness and contentment within whatever his or her definition of living is.

WHO HURTS WORSE? Two perspectives of 'Hell'

PART II - Her Story.....

(Mrs. I Define Me here - whew~ ~ ~ helping Mr. IDM with Part I was truly draining, and now I am totally dragging my feet to buckle down and write my side, Part II.

*time passes~~~

I used to be a swimmer, so I guess I'll just dive in head first, ~~ here goes....

I was introduced to masturbation very early in my childhood.  It wasn't any body's 'fault', I discovered it quite naturally, probably like so many children do.  I literally can't even think of how old I might have been.  I know I was still in elementary school for sure.  I was cuddling near some warm blowing air, wrapped in a towel, after my bath, to get warm.  It was a completely innocent and surprising thing when I discovered some feelings that I had never felt before.  It took quite some time, months (maybe years), of little 'incidents' with myself  until, as I grew older, I began to plan ahead, and arrange these opportunities, and experiment, etc., when eventually I discovered the 'end' result of such exploration, and I had an orgasm....which blew my mind!  I did not know anything about sex, and I didn't understand what had happened, I just knew I liked it.  But,  I clearly had an 'instinct' that it was somehow 'wrong' or that it was a 'naughty' thing to do.  I had not learned of such things from any person, or tv show, or any 'outside' force in my life.  I had just discovered it on my own,  and I felt guilty on my own.  I definitely had no one in my life who would have made me feel that it was 'wrong' or 'bad', because I don't think anyone in my life would have ever guessed that I had discovered masturbation, let alone believed that I was 'indulging' in it at such an early age.

I, like my husband, also believe that it was the Light of Christ in me, as a child, that told me in some sort of unexplainable way, that I was 'playing with fire' (so to speak), and that it was not pleasing in God's sight.  Right from the start I determined that I should not do that again, but it was so very compelling, and felt so good, I often failed at my efforts to abstain.  I never told anyone, and, although I tried through the years to stop, and, at times, went for months and even years without an incident, I was never able to completely abstain, until I was in college and realized the truth, that this activity was detrimental to my soul.

By this time in my life, (late teens - early twenties), I felt 'out of control', and I desperately wanted to take control of my life.  I didn't like the guilt and the shame that I felt, and, as I grew to understand the truths about sexuality,  I  knew that this was something very special that needed to be 'saved' for the proper time and right person to share it with.  By the way, there was never an official birds and the bees 'sex talk' with my Mom or anything like that, although my Mom was practically the perfect Mom in almost every way.  Actually, I can't be sure, but I kind of think that because I was the youngest, and she was a very busy woman, she probably forgot who she'd talked to about what, - but that's ok.  And, if the truth were known, I'm not sure which of my children I talked with about sex either - which I feel bad about and wish that I would have done better.

During my teenage years, I had a steady boyfriend.  We 'basically' dated exclusively for a few years (against my parents best efforts to teach me to hold off on such serious dating - I just somehow wiggled out of their control).  Eventually, through the years, we slowly but surely worked our way from kissing, to petting, to finally 'going all the way' (as we called it back in the 70's - do they still say that now?).  So, basically, I was sexually active with my boyfriend (btw- not that it matters, but, he was a nice, responsible, hard working, smart, school leader, lovable, active LDS young man - who, incidentally, often blessed the sacrament on Sunday, even though he had been parking with me on that Saturday night just before).  My soap box here - I think that teenage sexuality and sexual activity is something that we, as a Christian society, need to open our eyes to, take more seriously, do more to educate our youth, and take our heads out of the sand.  Especially related to sexual orientation issues.  I do think we're much better than we used to be, but it's a big deal, and the adversary (Satan) has the media in his pocket, so we need to counter that with a big fight.  (I'm just sayin...) - end of soap box.

Anyway, we really did have a desire to 'be good', to stop messing around, and to save ourselves for each other, as we were sure we would eventually be married - (we were  SO IN LOVE! )  Well, we mostly failed at our efforts to abstain, and, to make a long story short...... our relationship didn't work out, (it was my fault), I found someone new, and eventually we had sex too.  Disclaimer >It wasn't really that I was a 'bad' girl, - I had never had a drink, (still haven't), never smoked, (still haven't), didn't do drugs, (still haven't), and I prayed daily, attended church, ,and basically obeyed every law you can name, ---but, I was definitely NOT the perfect 'Mormon' girl that I always hoped and wished I could be.

I did, however, always have a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and basically tried to live a good life that would be pleasing unto the Lord, which I knew, and believed to be, the path to true happiness and peace.  When I was 17 years old, I went to my Bishop, repented of my pre-marital sexual activity, broke up with my boyfriend, and got myself back on the path that was more in line with the teachings of the gospel.  What an amazing blessing and discovery, as I learned the wonderful truth about the Atonement of my Savior, Jesus Christ.   I felt like a new person, and I found it quite easy to 'be good' and follow His teachings, but... I 'still' did, occasionally have a run in with Satan through masturbation until....

Eventually I was inspired to talk with a wonderful teacher, who I loved and trusted, from the Institute of Religion (from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints),  about my problems with masturbation.  He was amazingly understanding and kind and good, and he helped me to change my thought process, and to find the strength, through my Savior Jesus Christ, to stop this 'unhealthy' practice once and for all.  It was a great relief to my heart, mind, and soul, and I am so grateful for the spirit of the Holy Ghost which testified to me that it was wrong, and who also guided and strengthened me as I put my faith in God to help me improve my life.

Through this experience in my life, I have established a very strong testimony of the words in the scriptures stating that "our weaknesses shall become our strengths", because that is exactly how it turned out to be for me.  Although I tried not to ever pressure my husband to abstain from masturbation, because I know that it is a very personal and difficult thing, I did, however, occasionally bear testimony to him of my knowledge and experience, of the great relief it was to my soul when I stopped, and how I absolutely know that I am blessed with an ability to have amazing, completely fulfilling sex (with him) because of  abstaining from it, as well.

I tell this for two reasons - 1. because I think it's important to tell this 'hard' stuff in order to possibly help and inspire others.  and 2.  because I sorta believe that because of my experience with masturbation and premarital sex and repentance, that I was better able to understand, and have compassion for, my husband's problems and struggles too.

So, I have always been a sensitive person.  I can cry over a great song or a romantic 'commercial'.  I am extremely patriotic, but, most important to me, I am grateful that I am a very spiritual person.  I have always been prayerful, and I do feel like I have alot of faith.  God, and the gospel of Jesus Christ, are of great importance to me and have been throughout my life.  But, I have also always been very emotional.  In some ways, being emotional can be a 'good' thing, but I think in this post I will mostly be telling about how it has often been a 'bad' thing for me.

I remember as a child having to come home from school 'sick' although there was no specific illness apparent, I just felt sick inside, and I didn't understand it, but I remember and know that IT WAS REAL, and I could not function because of it. It might have been related to having my feelings hurt by someone or something, or maybe I was just overwhelmed with school in general.  I remember feeling 'bullied' by a few of my "friends'.  And, since I didn't have much of a competitive spirit, I was often uncomfortable in PE class (especially 'Dodge Ball' ! - that is cruel and unusual punishment to a kid, and the process of 'picking sides' should be outlawed - just my opinion - ;)  ).

I kind of have to laugh about this now, but I remember, as an elementary age girl, crying to my Mom and telling her "I think I'm going to have a nervous breakdown".   Maybe, sorta, in a way......I've always been a bit of  'an emotional wreck'.  Personally, and I may be wrong but, I don't see it as being 'a drama queen' but more of just possibly being 'overly sensitive'.  You'll see how this plays out throughout my life, and how it has definitely added to the trauma of my out of control marriage, and the 'dysfunctional' family that we were attempting to raise amidst great personal trials.

Just a side note here - I remember a time when I felt most in control of my life, and although, at that time,  I was lonely, a single mom, and desperate to feel valued and loved, but, I still recall great clarity and purpose and a sense of well being even through my trials and pain.  It was when Mr. IDM was serving his mission, I was writing to him weekly (and he wrote to me weekly as well), and I was faithfully writing in my journal.  Writing is definitely therapeutic to me, my Dad wrote a lot in journals as well, and I think that is why I am enjoying this 'blogging' experience so much, I love writing, and it is truly therapeutic for me.  So, Thank you!  my blog friends, for being my listening ear.  Even if you don't comment, I somehow know you're out there, and certainly I don't expect you to always (or ever) 'agree' with my thoughts, feelings, or beliefs - there's just something special about sharing my writing, it gives me a sense of 'value', and then, IF, you comment on, or agree with, or appreciate, what I've had to say... it's the icing on the cake. :)

Ok, so now that I've got you all cozied up to be my BFFs, I'm gonna tell you something that might blow your mind, and you might think I'm an idiot and fool....  But, please, cut me some slack and realize that I was truly naive about homosexuality back in the early 80's, and I was raised in a small, sheltered, Mormon community, in a home where what we watched on tv was carefully monitored, and where I literally had never, ever, heard of the word 'gay' until after I went to college.  And, even then, I was still in a small college town, which was a sheltered Mormon community as well.

So, after writing to Mr. IDM throughout his mission, we were definitely deeply in love, and shortly after he got home we got married.  On our honeymoon, we had good sex, and we had some wonderful and lovable times together, but somewhere along the second or third day (a couple of days before we were planning to go home), we had some disagreements, and I, being my typical emotional self, cried... and even spent some time crying in the bathroom of our hotel.  Something just wasn't right, and my husband turned off all quiet and said we needed to talk about something; and I could tell it was quite serious.   Here we were, finally together after his mission, so much in love, and on our honeymoon.   I couldn't imagine what was the 'big deal'.  We lay down together on our bed just to talk.  I pressured him to tell me what was going on, and he said, (pretty much these exact words), "I just think you should know that years ago, I spent some time at a relatives home in San Francisco,  and, well, you know San Francisco is where lots of gay people live and I got thinking about it back then, and so years ago, I kinda wondered if I was gay" (and he laughed - hahahaha - like 'wasn't that stupid of me?')......

Ok --- I KNOW - you're thinkin "YIKES", serious RED FLAG!!.  I know, - I know, ...  I can totally see that now, but, seriously, it absolutely and totally went right over my head at the time.  I just knew nothing about homosexuality, and I think that back then I assumed people chose to be gay or they 'went wacko' or something, and I absolutely 'KNEW'  that my husband, the missionary, who I'd been having sex with on our honeymoon, for the past couple of days, certainly WAS NOT GAY.

 I don't know why I didn't realize that he had made a whole big deal of cutting our honeymoon short and driving home with this heavy air of 'we need to talk' looming, and I still was seriously oblivious to the whole ordeal.  I just chalked it up to what I figured was 'a typical teenage guy thing', and I felt bad that my husband was even bothered by this old (probably one day of thought) thing that he experienced years ago.  I thought, "how silly", and we laughed it off.  And, it was literally NEVER spoken of again (for 10 years), and I completely forgot all about it within days, maybe within hours.  But... then 10 years later, when he told me about the meeting he'd attended for men who are gay, and I said, "do you think you're gay?" and he said "I am", it all came rushing back to me and blew my mind.

I'm sure some would say that I was one of those 'starry eyed' girls who just wanted desperately to be 'in love' and married;  well maybe, I really don't know and can't say.  I do know one thing, I don't feel that I was tricked or deceived.   I understand that my husband was just as confused as I was, and although he definitely knew that he was (is) a homosexual, and he certainly knew that he didn't make that clear, he was still hoping and praying that it was a 'phase' that  would surely leave, and that through marriage and time, his 'problem' would be 'fixed', and all would be well.  And, I have nobody to blame but myself for being so completely naive and blind to the writing on the wall. 

Anyway, it is what it is - and so here we are.  Yep, I'm completely embarrassed to tell this truth, especially now, knowing all that I know about homosexuality, with almost a phD in 'gay guys'.  Also, just to be clear,  I definitely did not intent to keep this part of our story out of this blog, I just knew that I wanted to tell about it in this very post where I planned to tell all the messy and foolish and 'bad' confessions about myself all at once.   ~~~~~it's gonna be a  looonnnggg post ~~~~ buckle up ;)

Throughout the first 10 years of our marriage we had alot of great times, a really good life, in many ways, and we enjoyed all the beginnings of a new life together.  Going to college, finding jobs, changing jobs, moving up, having babies, buying homes/cars/trucks/boats/'things', redecorating, landscaping, making friends, activity in the church, going to movies, trips and adventures, boating/ hunting/ fishing/ crafting/ sewing/ swimming, and the list goes on and on. We were very much in love, we were best friends, we had fun, and we got along quite well, most of the time. 

BUT... there was just this little glimmer of 'something missing' that was mostly not even noticeable, except for when we had disagreements or arguments, etc.  Sometimes I felt like my 'dreams' of that happily ever after and madly in love were just not exactly coming true, but,  I just kicked myself for being so selfish, unrealistic, and what I thought must just be a foolish wish for some 'fantasy world' that actually nobody really truly ever has.

When times were rough, I would feel like my husband was sort of drifting away from me on a boat, and I actually told him about these feelings one day, and I begged him to "please, jump ship and swim back to me".  I can't remember his exact response to my analogy and plea, (which I thought was quite clever and would probably be well received and have a big, positive, impact),  but, I remember that his response was empty and flat, and left me feeling anything but all warm and fuzzy inside, (which was the results I had hoped for).  I think that alot of the time, my efforts to communicate and grow closer were like I was a little puppy dog, do barking at the master's heels, running in circles, doing tricks, wagging my tail, hoping for attention and affirmation. Thinking back, it was sorta pathetic.  It reminds me of a scene in the movie "My Best Friend's Wedding", where I always get a sick feeling in my stomach when I watch it, where Julia Roberts has stolen a big delivery truck and is chasing the man she loves, but he is driving another vehicle chasing his fiance' (who he loves), and Julia's friend (who is on the phone with her) says to her, "he's chasing her.... and you're chasing him....who's chasing you?? - NO -ONE!"  It's so sad :(

Throughout so much of our marriage, both before his coming out to me, and after, I was quick to accept the belief that 'I' was the problem, and 'I' was a mess, and 'I' needed to be 'fixed'.  So, I went to counseling a few different times, but because of my totally rosie and peachy childhood, (I'm serious, it really was - my brothers and sisters experienced it as well, and even my husband soon realized it, and agrees that it's true) there was just no one big skeleton in my closet to be discovered by my shrink of the day.  Well, who knew.... that the skeleton was not in 'my closet', it was in my husband's 'closet' instead.  As a matter of fact,  my husband, himself,  WAS in the 'closet'.

But hey!,... I was not free from issues, I'm sure nobody is, and, I did find out, through therapy, that I had rejection issues, I was co-dependant, and I had some very well hidden low self-esteem.   Even my near perfect childhood, and my amazingly wonderful parents, still couldn't save me from some dysfunction and MY issues (which were all determined to be caused by people 'outside' of my happy home - ie: childhood friends, boyfriends, and even neighbors, and just me - myself - and 'I').  It seems that no matter how hard we try, life just HAS to sometimes be hard, and we all have to deal with 'something' along the way.  I'm actually grateful for my trials, and I sincerely believe they all have and continue to, help me grow.  I am surely a better person because of  the hardships and storms.  Of course, our Heavenly Father knows that it's through our trials we will grow and so he often allows the storms in our lives to rage.

Speaking of RAGE.... let me tell a little about my internalized anger, my lack of ability to express anger, and my passive/aggressive behavior, that I am just recently willing to acknowledge, and learning to understand.  I have always been an emotional person, but I have emphatically preferred the emotion of 'happy', so I did whatever it takes to be happy, appear happy, keep everybody happy, and, like the song says, "Put on a Happy Face"! 

There is, however, a problem with such high expectations of such extreme happiness and positivity, - the reality of discouragement, discontentment, disbelief, and disappointment (which is inevitable in life) just simply has to come out somewhere, somehow.  For me, it was through some deep and often hidden underlying depression, obsessive shopping and eating, and secretly holding grudges and storing ammunition against others (so that when they hurt me, I'd have some real concrete truths about their weaknesses and faults to shoot at them to prove that 'I'm right' - and 'they're wrong').

I am not proud of my sly tactics, and I certainly didn't even realize what a fierce warrior I was until recently, because, until recently,  I just usually survived on the thoughts that I was picked on, mistreated, disrespected, and none of it was 'fair' - cause I was 'such a good person', and I was just trying my best to keep the peace.  Blah blah blah....  Remember, I want everybody just to be happy and nice and kind and loving and patient and helpful and obedient and good, and pay attention to me...  Is that tooo much to ask? lol  (sarcasm - can you tell?)  Speaking of rage - can you feel my rage even now?  I'm assuming you can, cause I'm feeling it,... I think it's because of my embarrassment about my weaknesses, and I really don't know now to handle it, still, to this very day.  (where is that therapist, Josh Weed, when I need him? - lol ! )

I do continue to hope and believe that I'm not too terrible of a person, and that I do have alot of good qualities, talents, and strengths.  I insist that, throughout all the 'hell',  I did truly try to be genuinely patient and forgiving and lovable for real.  And, I think that I sincerely did accomplish this alot of the time, but I must confess that there were definitely a lot of times when the dysfunction in our home was possibly more because of MY issues and weaknesses than because of  my husband's.  Yes, he was definitely 'missing in action' and 'not plugged in' to the family and our marriage and our life back then.  But I WAS there, I WAS the one 'with' the kids, I WAS the example in front of their faces, and I WAS, definitely, and often AN EMOTIONAL MESS.

At the time, I believed I was just doing the best that I could, under the circumstances, but I realize now how unacceptable that was, and my heart breaks for my children and the tension they must have felt, and especially the lack of loving attention they desperately needed and truly deserved.   Actually, some of those years literally seem like a blur to me now.  I was usually NOT the fun, silly, lovable Mom that I always really wanted to be.  I think sometimes I would 'fake it' as best I could, but I'm guessing that my children probably sensed the lack of 'realness' and were probably emotionally damaged as they missed out on alot of the strength, support, affirmation,  love, and comfort that they needed from me.

I know that I was often very sad, and that I did a lot of crying.  I'm sure our children sensed our disagreements, even though we learned to keep the conflict away from the kids, and got really good at NOT yelling, etc. in front of them.  In the earlier years, however, we did just 'get into it' whenever and where ever the tension blew. (ps -not over the 'secret' issue, - but about everything else, stupid things mostly).  It seems that we disagreed about so many unimportant things, (which I won't even begin to name) but a big one seemed to be -what to eat, how to cook it, and if it was 'tasty' enough.   This mealtime drama made me hate to cook.

So,  I didn't really enjoy cooking, (still don't), and so, this very important part of motherhood, cooking and mealtime, which should have been a fun, special, nurturing time with my children, was just a burden and a trial a lot of the time.  This especially makes me terribly sad because I know the truth of how important mealtime and healthy meals really is in a child's life and development.  Now, I am very health conscious, have learned lots about nutrition, and I currently eat very healthy.  I hope that now, and in the future, I can be a much better example to my family, in hopes that I can undo some of the damage that was done in this department.

Sorry - I know this is turning out to be REALLY LONG - and I don't blame you if you quite reading - but the following confessions are necessary and very real, and I must finish what I've started - I'm not really even sure why, I just must...

I'm very embarrassed to admit that several times I obsessively followed my husband, I literally stalked him, hoping to 'catch' him, I really don't know why - maybe to prove to myself what I basically already knew, or maybe to have ammunition against him, or maybe to humiliate him.  (maybe all of the above)  Anyway, I eventually realized that it was stupid, and that it was damaging to me and my soul, so I confessed to him and committed to never do it again.   But,... I still did, a couple of times, again.

Since I was the money manager, although I rarely spent our 'bill' money, and we have always paid our bills, our tithing,  and had the groceries, and gas, etc. that we needed, I did often spend the 'extra' money we occasionally acquired here and there, instead of doing what I really should have done with it, save it, or use it for college, or emergencies, or family vacations or trips, (although I don't think that back then my husband was even into taking 'family' trips anyway, as he just liked to 'take off' on his own).   Instead, I shopped (for bargains, yard sale finds, etc. which were mostly always for the kids and our home - sometimes for 'things' just for me - but mostly, it was all 'just stuff'!!), but back then, I think that deep inside, I often felt that "I deserved it", maybe as some sort of  'payback' for the hell my husband was putting me through, which I'm sure was a form of passive/aggressive behavior - not good.

I remember how, for probably the first half of our marriage, my husband would demand and insist that we worked out all the money HE 'needed' for his hobbies (hunting, fishing, boating, etc.) and it made budgeting and managing the money literally impossible for me.  I hated to tell him 'no' or tell the truth that we just didn't have it, so I twisted and tweaked and finagled as best as I could most of the time.

Then, eventually, somewhere along the way, I put my foot down, I prepared a bunch of charts showing how much 'HE' spent on HIS fun (compared to how much 'I' spent, on MY fun - which I pointed out was so much less than him, usually my fun was buying stuff for the house and the kids), and I established a strict budget, and he eventually had to get a second job to pay for HIS FUN, while I used 'some' of the money I made, from my job, for my fun, (I still paid for the gas & groceries & other household bills from my income) but, I confess, that usually I felt picked on and was upset because I had to help with the finances by working, outside the home.

 I believed that my #1 and most important 'job' was that of being a wife/mother/homemaker, and I always felt like I was NOT a good mom, wife, and homemaker, because I was burdened with having to have 'job'.  The stupid reality of this, that I think is important to share, is that if both of us would have been working together as a team (instead of this 'it's all about me' attitude that we each had) we both could have, and probably would have sacrifices much of our 'spending' and 'fun' money, so we could have done great things with it, and I could have probably not had to work, and therefore, been a better mother, etc.   I'm ashamed of this fact, it's hard to admit, but I must take the steps necessary to change this behavior as, I still to this day, find myself caught up in 'spending' too much money, when/IF, there's extra money available to be spend.  

I tell some of these issues, such as financial, etc. because it is interesting and wonderful that once we began working together, healing our issues, and most importantly included God and the gospel as #1 in our lives, it's like the fog was lifted, and we could see so many of the things we had done and were doing wrong, and, even greater was that we are able to admit the dysfunction, our weaknesses, our errors, and not hold grudges, just heal and move on.  It's a wonderful and freeing feeling, and one of the greatest blessings of true love.

About 12-13 years ago I became addicted to 'chatting online'.  My husband was gone alot, and I was quite entertained by chatting with all kinds of people online.  At first it was just a great outlet for me, stuck at home with kids, lonely, a great typist, and a 'writer'... but, eventually, I found myself having inappropriate conversations with men (actually, for all I know they were 12 yr old kids in their parents basements, or 60 yr old perverts, or middle aged lesbians (no offense Tammy ;).  Anyway, one thing led to another, and before I knew it I was meeting a guy in a different town, and ended up in his motel room.... (STUPID STUPID STUPID - I'm probably lucky to be alive).  I talked with him on the phone quite a bit and we met a couple of times (basically nothing happened except 'making out' - I'm so sorry and humiliated that my children have to hear this, but the truths need to be told).  All it took was a 'close call' and I snapped back to my senses.  I immediately told my husband, who was extremely great and forgiving about it  - and I went right to my Bishop, went through a repentance process, and had an amazing experience of the magic of forgiveness and the depth of God's wonderful love.  (btw - I did not do this as 'payback', it was just literally about me and my loneliness, and I let myself get swept away - even after all that my husband had done, and all the hurt he caused me, I still felt terrible to have hurt him like I did).

I think that one of the worst things I did back then, (from the time my husband came out to me, until he went to the Bishop), was that I let my mind become consumed with thoughts of being 'a victim' way too much of the time.  I did have alot of times of feeling strong and committed and faithful.  But too much of the time I got caught up in self loathing, and I imagined how amazed people would be if they knew the truth of what 'hell' I was living.  I spent so much time on my 'pitty pot', when I could have just as easily have been positive and productive and moving forward, in caring for my family, and even in taking better care of myself.  This kind of thought process and behavior is extremely damaging to the heart, mind, and soul - and, I think, for me anyway, is one of Satan's most evil and damaging tools.

I remember how Mr. IDM had somehow established that no matter how bad 'my' life and heartaches were, 'HIS' were worse.    I don't think he was aware of his extreme lack of compassion towards me (even though he absolutely knew I was hurting, he also felt completely responsible, but was somehow unable to care enough to do anything about it).  His own self hatred, and selfish behaviors, made it impossible for him to see that 'I' had issues too.  I occasionally tried to make him see that everything wasn't ALL ABOUT HIM, that I had realized I had issues from childhood, and that all my problems were not because of him,... but he just didn't and couldn't seem to see that.  I actually wanted to set him free from some of the guilt by explaining to him about my personal issues and troubles that I knew existed even before I met him.  It never worked, he didn't believe it, and, he seemed determined to take all the blame.  This was not good for him, and it was not good for me either.  I literally 'wanted' to be acknowledged as a person with 'my own' trials and personal struggles, and enough value to be understood and cared for as well.

Well now, I can say that I AM acknowledged, I AM affirmed, I AM cared for and truly loved for who I am.   I am amazed how,  throughout the past few years,  my husband has changed his attitude towards himself and his attitude toward me.  I am actually overwhelmed at the immediate change that occurred in him when he repented.  He almost instantly was filled with compassion towards me, understanding of 'my' issues, and a genuine desire and effort to help me, be there for me, be my soft place to fall, and help me heal 'my stuff' as he worked to heal 'his stuff'.  It suddenly became all about togetherness, unselfishness, learning together, growing together, becoming best friends, better lovers, better parents, and closer to God as a team, with a shared commitment and purpose to live the gospel of Jesus Christ, and to love each other more fully, more deeply, sincerely and completely.  All of these wonderful and beautiful changes in our relationship happened almost immediately, and since then, they have all just continued to grow stronger and more fulfilling each day.  It absolutely feels like, and I believe IS, literally a miracle.

It seems that although my husband 'does' still have to deal with 'the storm' in his life, (which is his same sex attraction, but certainly to a much lesser degree than it used to be, since now, it is just a minor issue of bothersome thoughts, that he has learned to control)),  and, God does calm His child (my husband), .....

for me, God HAS calmed the storm, and  I am so very grateful, and thankful, and humbled, to be so very blessed.

WHO HURTS WORSE? Two perspectives of 'Hell'

Part I -  His Story......

Well, maybe the use of the word "Hell" is sort of exaggerating, because there was no fire & brimstone, and we did still have alot of  GREAT TIMES, and enjoyed many, many BLESSINGS,... but we can't think of any better word to describe the dysfunction that seemed to almost consume several years of our marriage, and, one thing we both know for sure...  it seemed that often, SATAN WAS THERE.

(Mr. I Define Me here - MY thoughts as told to my wife, the typist)

From the time I discovered that I was "different" (homosexual - but I didn't even know the word back then), I felt completely alone.   I can't even begin to explain what my life was like as a young boy in a small farming town.  At around 10 years of age my wonderful carefree life and innocence was shattered, and gone forevermore, as I was introduced to pornography, and discovered that unlike all the other guys, who were clearly looking at the girls in the pictures, I was looking at the guys.  I didn't know anything about homosexuality (or heterosexuality), I just knew that I was different, I didn't understand why, and I felt worried and alone.   I don't know which was worse, the confusion, the guilt,  or the fears that I lived with in my soul, with no one talk to, and no knowledge of anyone anywhere "like me".  I felt like a "freak" and I was terrified that someone might discover the horrible truth about me. 

In my earlier childhood years, my sexual orientation was  usually just a "minor" peculiar part of me, but as time went on, it became almost all consuming.  If I wasn't acting on my sexual desires, I was thinking about them, and if I was not acting on or thinking about "sex", I was worrying about people finding out I was "a freak".  Or, I was wondering why I was different from all my friends, or hoping and praying that I would somehow be "fixed" and that this devastating "phase" of my life would eventually pass, and hopefully SOON.

I remember a time when I was a young boy, some big boys showed me two different "dirty" magazines, one with pictures of women, and the other with pictures of men.  They placed both in front of me and asked me which book I wanted to look at.  Well, even at that early age, not knowing anything whatsoever about homosexuality (or heterosexuality, for that matter), I still could smell a rat....and I instinctively knew that, although I really wanted to look at the magazine with the naked men, I should definitely pick the magazine with the naked women.  It just seemed like the "proper" thing to do, -  I just knew I should hide my sexual inclinations.

Throughout my adolescent years, I remember so much shame, confusion, and conflict raging inside me, while, at the same time, I was actually a peaceful, sensitive, and caring kid.

As I look back now, I can see clearly that I was a very sensitive child, very much different than my brothers.  My brothers seemed to be able to roll with the punches and 'cowboy up', while I was less tough, less athletic, less adventurous, and more fearful and guarded.

I remember one early morning out in the field, we were sleeping in sleeping bags in the back of the truck, and at the crack of dawn our dad, who was bailing hay in the field, called to us to "GET UP AND ROLL THESE BAILS!,  we all continued to sleep until we heard the tractor engine slow to an idle, and I raised up to discover our dad running towards us and yelling (we were in trouble!), my brothers jumped up and scattered, and successfully managed to 'get out of his reach' to avoid gettin a lickin, but I was frozen to that spot, and wet my pants from the fear.  Although I knew my Dad loved me, I must confess that I was afraid of him, and it seemed to be worse for me than for my brothers.  Bonding with my Dad was difficult, I'm not sure that I ever did - although I have gone to great lengths to build a really good relationship with him through the years, and I love spending time with him whenever I can.

I don't think I ever really bonded with my only living grandfather.  I do remember that, one day when he took us all to buy cowboy hats, he allowed me to get the hat I really wanted, which was actually what my brothers called, 'a sissy hat', because it was kindof a Roy Rogers hat, painted blue with pictures of cowboys and indians on it.  My brothers choose the 'real' cowboy hats, and although I was not the youngest, I was more attracted to the fancy 'toy' hat than the real hats.  And, although I really liked that hat, I quit wearing it because I would get mercilessly teased by my brothers.   I could tell countless stories similar to this from my uneasy, uncomfortable childhood.

I remember when all the kids would gather in the yard for a game of tackle football, I hated it.  I was alot smaller than most boys my age, as a matter of fact, I didn't reach puberty until I was at least 16.  I was afraid of getting tackled, and I didn't seem to have that competitive spirit that most the boys had.  By the time I was in high school I somehow managed to get on the football team, although I didn't like it, and just did it because all my brothers were football stars.  I especially hated the 'shower room' situation as we had one big open area with lots of shower heads and there was no place to hide the fact that I had not reached puberty.  Even one of my younger brothers reached puberty years before me - it was extremely humiliating.
And, as if that wasn't enough, the older guys always teased me, and even some of the teachers made insulting comments about my lack of maturity and my small stature.  These developmental issues caused me great anguish and added to my low self esteem and self hatred.  And, although, at times I reached out to God for help through prayer, it seemed that my prayers went unanswered as I waited and waited for results and for rescue.  (IMPORTANT NOTICE - somewhere along the way, during my mission, and also in my early years of marriage - I GREW UP.... now, I am bigger than all my brothers, and am usually unrecognizable at my class reunions. - whew~~~)

I was a spiritual kid right from the start, with a firm belief in God and a knowledge that God was good, that he loved me, and that He had the power to help and comfort me in times of need.  (I personally believe that I was born with "the Light of Christ" and I firmly believe that everyone is.)  I also instinctively knew that my thoughts and actions were not pleasing to God, I felt guilt from viewing naked pictures, guilt from masturbation, and shame because of my same sex attraction.  At the same time, I felt determined to please God, and to please my Dad, and I wanted nothing more than to be "normal".   It was a very confusing and lonely existence. 

One day, when I was a teenager, the pain, frustration, and heartache had built up to a boiling point within me, I had had a terrible day, my burdens seemed to be way more than I could bare, and as I walked into our home, my parents were sitting there watching tv.   As I sat down in the chair, almost without warning, I broke down and began to cry.  My parents asked me, "what is wrong?" and I was overcome with emotion, I couldn't say a word, I just shrugged my shoulders and went to my room.  I desperately  needed someone, someone to talk to, someone to help me understand, someone to listen. I knew my parents loved me, but I just couldn't even consider telling them the truth.  It seemed like an impossible thing for them to comprehend.
So,  my mother came to my room and sat on my bed where I was crying like a baby.  She gently and nervously asked me the question, "son, have you got some girl pregnant"?   I practically laughed inside as I secretly thought, "oh how I wished that were true".  If only that was the reason for my anguish and tears, and  I wished that that was ALL that was 'wrong' with me.   I quietly told my mother "no", but couldn't answer her questions as she pressed me to confide in her, because I just couldn't do it, I couldn't tell her the truth, I believed it would break her heart.
After high school I joined the military.  Joining the military was a pretty crazy thing for a "gay guy" to do, I know.  Truthfully, I don't really know why I did it or what I was thinking.  I mainly joined because alot of my friends were joining, and because I did think it would be a great adventure (which is weird because I was not really the adventurous type).  I definitely had a sense of patriotism, and although in the beginning I wondered "what have I done?", and felt I had made a terrible mistake,  ultimately I did feel a sense of pride and accomplishment in serving my country, which I love.  I always believed that my military service was a form of serving God.

My mission was hard.  Although I had never acted on my SSA with another person,  and I constantly worked hard at remaining worthy to serve in the mission field, I was always on high alert, keeping my thoughts and actions in check, and struggling to stay focused on the work I was there to do.  I'm sure all missionaries have struggles and most missions, although they truly ARE "the best two years of your life", are difficult for each and every individual.  I, however, thought that everything in MY life, and everything about me was WORSE than anybody else.  By the time I was  in my early 20's, I often felt that my hardships, trials, and anguish were some sort of  punishment from God for my years of masturbation in my youth, and even for my obsessive homosexual thoughts.  Still, I only desired to please God, to serve Him, and I believed  He alone had the power to rescue me from my hell.

When I married my wife, within just a few months from returning from my mission, it became quite clear to me that I was wrong in thinking/hoping that I could 'marry the gay away'.  Although I truly did enjoy sex with my wife, and, as a matter of fact, it was actually a very great and wonderful thing, the attractions to men were not minimized, and I continued to be compelled to masturbation to homosexual fantasies.  I truly loved my wife, and I hated to hurt her, and so I tried constantly, with all my might, to control my sexual attractions and sex drive involving fantasies of men.  Even though she did not know about my secret, I knew that she was ultimately adversely affected by my choices, actions, thoughts, and lack of attention to her.    I almost always felt 'out of control' and on the edge of some impending doom.  And, I knew that if/when my world fell apart, it would absolutely be 'all my fault'. 

Because of my conflict within, and my 'secret', I lived with depression constantly.  I sorta believed that my whole life was cursed, that everything I did was bad, and I was basically unable to see and accept all the many blessings in my life.  I truly knew I was blessed, and I always acknowledged God for His hand in my life and the blessings of my life, (WHEN I had a moment of humble reflection), but, I usually had a dark fog separating my heart and soul from really feeling the blessings that my mind intellectually knew were real.  Back then, I would discount everything 'good' and become consumed with everything 'bad'.  It was like I had the opposite of 'the Midas touch', it seemed that everything I touched turned to 'crap' (instead of Gold).

During the years after telling my wife the truth about my sexual attraction to men, and the whole truth about the secret life and lies I had been living, we had about a year of learning, understanding, growing, and much love.  It was a year of great relief, discovery, counseling, healing and empowerment for me.  I was actively working on my issues, my marriage, and my relationship with God.  I had great hope....... but somehow, and for some reasons that I really can't even explain, that hope faded.  I became even more discouraged than ever before.  I just couldn't see how I could ever take control of my life.  I was overwhelmed.  I felt desperate as the 'help' that I had put all my faith in, was just not working, and I was even unable to find that faith in God (within myself) that I had somehow miraculously carried with me throughout my life (in spite of it all).  I had instincts that I should 'repent', but I couldn't separate the actions from the attractions, so I believed that there was no way I could repent from something I could not control, and it seemed to be a waste of time.  I started to believe that God had given up on me, and so I gave up on me too.

During the approximately 13 years that I continued on a roller coaster from hell, I experienced desperate and damning lows, then, I was somehow always carried away from sure destruction and 'up', up to renewed hope, once again, and through much determination to find rescue and peace, only to find myself once more consumed by my addictive attractions and selfish behaviors - so off to the "down-low" I'd go.

I have to be honest here, since this is the post about all the 'bad'.  I confess that I screamed and yelled at times.  I know that I was often irritable and would fly off the handle over stupid little things.  I sincerely regret that I called my wife names and swore at her, using words that certainly cut her to her core and damaged her heart and her soul.   I make no excuses for all my bad behavior, back then, it was sometimes easier to do things to push her away, than to face the reality of the pain she was in, (that I knew I caused), or to attempt to communicate, understand, or care.   At times it was all I could do to make it to work and then home, and, I often delayed coming home.    The family I so desperately wanted and had dreamed of was becoming a added burden to my out of control life, and I found myself  avoiding those relationships that I cherished the most.  It just doesn't compute, I know, and I can never get those years back.

The most devastating reality of my life's choices, is how it surely has affected my children.  Although, at the time, I was fooling myself into thinking that I was only hurting myself (and my wife), I somehow believed that the kids were not adversely affected.  I went to such great effort to be sure that my children were well provided for, and I tried extremely hard to be a 'good Dad'.  I loved (and still love) my children more than words can say.  Ironic those very children that I wanted so desperately to have and raise and love, who I would absolutely 'die' for, ...I was not able to 'live' for.  But back then, I didn't see it that way.  I was selfish, and my thoughts were twisted.  I thought that, at least, I was doing good because I was somehow keeping the family together, and avoiding the devastation of divorce. 

I was always attempting to teach my children the gospel and attending church meetings to be an example to my kids.  I often felt so uncomfortable in church, and, although it was torture, at times, because of my guilt, I still endured and hoped that my children would see me as a good man and know of my belief in the gospel and my love for the Lord, Jesus Christ.  I knew that my wife was an example for good in their lives, and since we were somehow, seemingly managing (on the surface) quite well, I was grateful for this part of our life everyday.  And, I constantly hoped and prayed that we could continue to hold it together, somehow.  My 'family', especially my children, were the light of my life, and often the ONLY thing that kept me alive.

I don't really know, even to this day, the extent of the emotional damage that may have been caused to my kids, and the trials they have faced, or may face, because of the dysfunction in our home.  But, I hope and pray every day, that I can somehow find a way to make it up to them, to help them muddle through, and to be a much better example to them now than I was then.  I hope that they feel of my spirit and know of my genuine love for them, and also for their mother, and especially for God.  My wife and I pray everyday that our kids will, "Rise Above Their Raisin".  So far, they are all doing extremely well.  (I'm really tempted to go on and on and brag all about them here - but I'll save it for a different, more appropriate place in the future of this blog)

I fought within myself, to just drive straight home, and steer clear of those places that called to me, as I would rationalize things out in my mind.   When I could find the strength and clarity in my mind to keep myself away from the those 'meeting places', I would masturbate instead, as I saw it as the lesser of two evils, and it was far less destructive to my soul.  Although I always felt guilt from masturbating, and knew that it was wrong is many ways (ie: - not pleasing to God, taking my attentions away from my wife, and a completely selfish act that involved only myself and eliminated any and all interaction with another human being) I still found that the guilt and pain after masturbation was minimal compared to the massive amount of guilt, shame, and self-hatred that I always experienced after an incident with some anonymous man.  The guilt and heartache would hold me at bay for months at a time, and each time I would almost believe that I would never go back.  I'm sure it seems ridiculous that I would ever go back, after such pain and suffering to my soul, but I did....again....and again....and again.

The most devastating and unbelievable thing about all of this is, the extreme danger of contracting AIDS or some other sexually transmitted disease, and especially the unforgivable risk I was taking with the lives of my wife and children as well.  Even still, with my constant knowledge of, worry, and remorse regarding the risks, I continued to give in to my urges and my destructive behavior did not cease.  It is, and always will be, almost unbearable to think of it still to this day.  I can't begin to explain how blessed (and lucky - for lack of a better word) I feel to have somehow dodged a bullet that I continued to put at my head (not to mention my family's as well).

I remember through those 'worst' years, as my behavior became more and more self destructive, I still and always had much love for my wife.  I don't really know how I could continue to hurt her like I did, I will be forever remorseful, broken hearted, and ashamed for the immense pain and suffering I burdened her with.  I continue to humble myself and ask God to help me as I attempt to prove my true love to her and possibly help in some way to mend her broken heart.    As cruel as this sounds, I always knew that she needed me, and I did want to be her lover, and her friend, and her soft place to fall, but I just didn't have anything to offer since I was so empty myself.  My unmet needs left me with nothing to offer the one I loved most, and, since I didn't understand myself or my life's problems, I lacked understanding and compassion for her and hers.  Whatever understanding I did have for my wife's pain & suffering was usually overshadowed by the knowledge that 'I' was the cause of it all, and that just made me double depressed, and pity myself even more.  It was a endless, hopeless, and self destructive cycle.  It was like I was living in a whirlwind.

Thankfully, eventually things began to change.....

"Sometimes God calms the storm, and Sometimes God let's the storm rage, and He calms His child"
        (this is what happened to me, and it is the rest of the story soon to come)

WHAT KIND OF FOOL AM I?

Some thoughts about why I love my husband

Not long ago, some commenters on our blog stated that our story seems like it's all so peachy and rosie or something like that.  I replied that we certainly didn't intend for it to appear that way, and that we were actually very determined to tell the whole truth, along with all the heartache, misery, dysfunction, and pain.  Yes, alot of our life story IS all about the hell we somehow lived through to ultimately find the happiness and peace we are experiencing now.

So, as we have been working on a new post entitled "Who Hurts Worse",and  writing ALOT about the bad times, the selfishness, etc.  (that's why it's taking so long - cause there's alot of  'crap' to tell), I have been thinking alot about the question that I know many of our readers legitimately have - "Why in the world did I stay?"

The answer to that question can be understood with 'some' consideration of who 'I' am, but more so, as we explore the character of  'the man', and learn more about him.

I am thinking that, hopefully, anyone reading this blog has figured out that I am an intelligent and confident woman.   I was a single mother for several years (another twist to our story); I have some college education; I have managed and ran two of my own businesses;  I have had several quite important jobs, with alot of stress and responsibility for many years;  but ultimately,  and gratefully, I eventually took control of my life and molded it into a career that I absolutely loved, far from the "business' world, and into a wonderful opportunity of doing fun stuff that I love, sharing of myself, and serving others, the needy, the community, and God.   Anyway, I'm no dummy - OK  ;) :)

Our readers must have also discovered that our daughters, Jr. IDefineMe and Eldest IDefineMe, are no dummies either.  Clearly these young woman (in their early 30's 'approximately') are very intelligent, intuitive, and wise, possibly beyond their years.  Our beautiful daughters have each established wonderful, successful, and rewarding lives for themselves.  They each have their own talents and abilities, and are unique in many awesome ways.  But one thing they absolutely have in common is their ability to love unconditionaly, accept all people, and freely forgive.  They each happen to have some differing views on religion and the gospel, but they both have very real and special personal relationships with God, that they have each established through their own individual research, study, thoughtfullness and prayer.  And, last - but certainly not least - they each love and support Mr. IDM & I completely and with such commitment, compassion and love that there are no words to describe our love for, and gratitude to, them.

So, in consideration of  'us girls', our combined intelligence & instincts, and the fact that we so deeply love and support 'our guy', it must be clear to any intelligent and thoughtful person to see that 'he' (Mr. IDefineMe) must be ONE HECK OF A SPECIAL AND AMAZING MAN.   - Yep, he sincerely is  :D.

Wish you all could get to know him as we do.  Let me tell you a little about my husband,... my kids Dad, ... our Heavenly Father's child.

*He is genuinely humble and sweet (but sometimes hides that part of himself with a certain 'roughness' - that we can usually see right through - shhhh,  don't tell him we know the truth ;)

*He loves the Lord and believes 100%, without question or pause, in the gospel of Jesus Christ, and the doctrine of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  He served an LDS mission and still loves sharing the messages of the gospel to anyone interested to hear.  (He does not, however, say a whole lot about it around the house, or to family, or 'preach' to anyone in any way)

*He prays faithfully morning and night, and probably often throughout the day.  He reads the scriptures daily (usually at night, for a little while from his bed) - he does this because he wants to and believes it brings him strength and peace - not because he feels he HAS TO.   He doesn't quote scriptures much, but the words he quotes sometimes lately is where the Lord says something like, "my sheep shall hear my voice" (sorry, I don't know the exact reference - somebody help me ;)

*He is a wonderful and loving husband.  He is thoughtful and romantic.  He is very compassionate towards me and is very patient and caring as I often deal with a couple of miserable health problems.  He supports me as I mold my life and clearly gets great satisfaction when I am happy.  I've already told alot on here about our personal/romantic relationship, so I will just say that "it's beautiful, completely fulfilling, and amazing".   I know he loves me for 'me', heart & soul, and I know that he thinks I'm beautiful and 'sexy'.  Our love and communication just seems to grow and get better every day.  He doesn't take our relationship for granted, after all we've been through, we know what great effort it takes to build a wonderful marriage/relationship as ours.

*He is an amazing father and grandpa. He would, without hesitation, take a bullet for anyone of his children or grandchildren. And, when ever questioned about his choice of lifestyle, by those on this blog, he responds to us with thoughts of his family and how his desire to someday have 'this exact family' was always a major factor in steering him towards the life he truly wished for and desperately wanted for himself. He just somehow 'knew' that we were all meant to BE.

*He loves  his parents deeply, and although they did not raise him with much talk of God in their home (as a matter of fact, there was actually alot of swearing and taking of God's name in vain), but he is not affected or phased by this lack of spirituality, and he remains true to his beliefs, while never allowing himself to be bothered by their differences, and he never judges their beliefs or way of life. Although drinking alcohol and swearing are two things that are usually frowned upon by 'Mormons", he is completely comfortable around a good share of his family members who, for them, it's a way of life.   He has great respect for his parents, who are darn good, hard working people, who have taught him honesty and respect, and who have sacrificed much for their children, and have stayed married, and committed to their family,  through some terribly difficult times.

*He absolutely never thinks he is better than anyone else, as a matter of fact, he has great understanding and compassion for ALL people, and seems to feel comfortable in most any setting or culture.  He literally travels all over the world for a living and usually ends up making great friends and acquaintances along his way.   Although he is cautious in relationships because of his 'secret', he is definitely not shy, and is probably more outgoing, adventureous, and approachable than many men (gay or straight) that I know.

*He has some great friendships, and some 'interesting' (and even unusual) friendships as well.  People just seem to be drawn to him, although he is far from politically correct, quite rough around the edges, and makes no excuses for his shortcomings & weaknesses.  He is pretty much, what you see is what you get, EXCEPT ONE BIG SECRET, and that truth about himself he protects with every fiber of his being, and has no desire to openly share this information about his same sex attraction with anyone.  (except all of you - our blog readers ;)

*He is an extremely hard worker, and is always happiest when he is busy and working hard.  He has usually always managed to have an "extra" job on the side (sometimes two), and he is often found helping friends and neighbors, giving of himself (for free - expecting no reward), and he is usually completely willing to do my honey-do's (when he's actually home - lol) and he has been known to do alot of my friends honey-do's as well (when he hears complaints that their husbands are dragging their feet - he say's "heck, let's just get it done!")

*He is wonderfully comfortable and a natural with babies and children.  He was very much a hands on helper with our babies/toddlers, etc.  and YES - he changed diapers as well.  (Not as many as me.....of course! lol)  He will cuddle and kiss any baby he can get his hands on, and it doesn't matter if they have a dirty face or a snotty nose - he'll just clean em up and kiss on em some more.  BTW - the feeling is usually mutual, they love him too.

*He has been, and often still is, a father figure (or grandfather figure) to friends, neighbors, and family members who are 'in need' of such a man in their lives.   Some whose father's are deceased,  or not engaged in their lives, or just  'absent' in one way or another.  He has a special place in his heart for the lonely, misunderstood, and/or struggling youth.

*He loves music - all kinds of music - and his ipod is filled with  a diverse collection that could almost rival any music store.  He has an awesome singing voice, that he is a quite selfish with I think.  The only time we get to hear him sing is when he is asked to sing at a family wedding or funeral and he just can't turn down the request - although he usually struggles desperately to prepare and is never happy with his performance in the end.    Trust me, however, it's ALWAYS wonderfully great.  I love to hear him sing.  He sang to me on our first date ;)

*Well, this list could continue on for quite some time, but I think I'll stop here for now.....

SO, - I hope you can see why I stayed through thick and thin, and even endured some horrible years when 'this man' WAS NOT exhibiting all these wonderful character traits at that time.  And, as you will read in our next post, (when we tell of the selfishness, dysfuntion, and heartache), you might think that Mr. IDefineMe seems to have been a completely different man - back then.  But, the truth is, that throughout those years, he was still this great man as described above, it's just that the 'good' and the 'bad' was all rolled into one.   For our family, the sparks of his kindness and goodness and love were still felt and experienced amidst the anger, depression,  dysfuntion, and pain, and I (and my kids) always knew that THE PROS FAR OUTWEIGHED THE CONS. 

What is so interesting and is such an important message from this story, is that how clearly, when Mr. IDM was acting out on his sexual attractions, exploring the gay lifestyle, and satisfying his compelling desires, --he was often miserable, onry,  discouraged, depressed, uninvolved in the family, irritable, obsessive, absent, short fused, intolerant, inpatient, insensitive, selfish, and even mean.  

However, after he took control of his actions, learned to manage his desires, turned away from that life and towards a life closer to his beliefs in God - (in that he started praying, reading scriptures, attending church meetings, and abstaining from obsessive homosexual thoughts and masterbation to homosexual fantasies) his countenance completely changed, and he clearly had found a sense of peace.  He was then, happier, healthier, kinder, more patient,  selfless, compassionate, caring,  easy going, agreeable, fun, funny, thoughtful,  genuinely repentant, lovable, humble, and spiritual in a way that we had never truly seen him before.  What a blessing - what a miracle - WHAT AN AMAZING MAN. (ps - he's not gonna approve of me singin his praises like this, but the truth just has to be told)

It's been a great trial for all involved as this man has evolved, and we, none of us, are perfect either, but we have always believed in him, and have felt his great spirit as he has molded himself, with much faith in God, and proved to himself (and us).... "I DEFINE ME".