Having My Cake and Eating It Too!

It’s really odd to reread some of my entries during the period in 2003 of my meltdown and the time that “Lovey” said that we were divorcing in 2005. It was during this period of time that I felt I had made some really good personal growth. The writings show it and they also reveal that I’m pretty good at sensing things. This is good and bad.

What follows is only part of a very long and drawn-out entry where I had come to “Lovey’s” defense with her family. (One of hundreds over the course of our marriage.) Sister #2 had written her fundamentalist opinions on such varied topics as John Kerry’s lack of spirituality, George Bush – the man of God, the evils of gay marriage and of gay people in general, and some rather caustic comments of Lovey. My lighthearted response was met with a flood of tears by Sister #2, and some downright nasty assertions that sadly weren’t too Christian and left me full of questions and hostility. I won’t bore you with that long analysis and recount of the details. What’s really important in that long journal entry is the following last part:

October 18, 2004 -- I’m still operating on the fears of 12 short months ago – discussions of divorce – going our separate ways. I find myself after all this time looking over my shoulder half expecting this to all surface again. I could get paranoid and wonder what all “Lovey” tells Dr. B. What does she or has she told her friends about me?

I don’t have the vocabulary right now to adequately describe what it’s like to live in my skin…or how my gayness clouds my every waking moment. Nobody knows how much energy I have wasted just by trying to conform and be like others. No one knows the tears I’ve shed because of my differences or the frustrations I feel when I’ve tried to be who I am only to be accused of being selfish –thinking of my own wants and desires. “Wanting my cake and eating it too!”

There’s that comment that has seeped into my consciousness more times than I can count: “Wanting My Cake and Eating It Too!”

My dear wife loves to throw that comment at me at the oddest of times. She did it when she first announced in 2003 that she wanted us to end. She made the comments to me at our joint sessions with her psychiatrist. She’s hurled it at me all during this separation.

My response is: “Where’s the cake?”

Cake, in my mind, is a reward for good behavior. Cake is for celebrations of fun events. Cake is for desert. Cake is a treat.

Throughout my marriage I strove to be the person that everyone seemed to want. I was the family man. I put everyone’s needs and desires before my very own. I tried to live as a straight man in all aspects. I tried to be a good, church goer.

But in that whole other life, I lost me. I lost what I wanted. I lost who I was. I lost the ability to think of the things I enjoyed.

Where’s the cake in all that?

My wife thinks that because I have had opportunities to express my sexual needs that this is the cake.

She thinks that because I have had her as a “covering” that I have been able to “play it straight” and continue to enjoy men.

She thinks that this is the cake.

Had I not been trying to be the “perfect husband” and to be honest with her out of consideration of her safety and her wellbeing, she would have never known about my other needs. I could have kept them secret. Then, in her mind, where would the cake have been?

I think I am learning just where the cake in my life is.

It’s in the fact that I now have a peaceful life.

It’s in the fact that when she moves out in about a month, my household will be peaceful.

It’s in the fact that I can live my life the way that pleases me.

It’s in the fact that I won’t have any more domestic arguments.

It’s in the fact that I won’t have to defend any of my desires.

It’s in the fact that I won’t have to make excuses for my shortcomings.

It’s in the fact that I can finally be me.

Boring, peaceful, me…living with my dog….and my eldest daughter.

Enjoying what life has to offer.

And in the end, enjoying the love of a good man physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Feeling his big strong arms holding me as I drift off to sleep at night.

Yes, there’s my cake.