Dear Straight Spouse,
I see you. Pride Month can be so difficult. Here in Melbourne, Australia, it is in full swing, as it is elsewhere. This is a great thing for the LGBT community, but not so easy for straight partners and partners of trans people. Most people barely see the wounds of your relationship history with your closeted partner, and so you suffer silently while the world celebrates the very thing you now find triggering. The betrayal is conflated with your partner’s sexual orientation or gender identity, making it difficult for you to “Celebrate Pride Month” without also feeling triggered by what happened to you. I want you to know that I see you.
I see how you have endured – how you are enduring – the unimaginable shock of discovering that your partner is not the person you thought they were. You still sometimes pinch yourself and wonder if this is all just a bad nightmare. It certainly isn’t what you signed up for.
I see how you have at times felt overwhelmed by despair and devastation, wondering how you could ever trust anyone again, wondering when the pain would stop, wondering when you might be able to breathe again.
I see how you have suffered the shame of feeling undesired and unwanted by your not-so-intimate partner, not realising that the problems in the marriage were beyond your capacity to repair.
I see how you have grappled with the complexities around your LGBT partner’s right to authenticity and your right to make an informed choice about who you married.
I see how you have been disenfranchised, overlooked, and discounted by those who privilege your LGBT partner’s rights without acknowledging yours.
I see how you have supported your children through the complex challenges of sitting in the middle of two parents: one betrayed by the other’s coming-out (or continued closeting). I see how you have watched them celebrate with their LGBT parent, while you long for their empathy and understanding while knowing they have a right to a relationship.
I see how you have grieved for your child who feels betrayed by their closeted parent while also feeling pressured to accept and delight in their parent’s newfound authenticity. I see you grappling with what the ‘right response’ is to this.
I see those of you who have struggled with childlessness, knowing that things may have been different if your partner had been honest from the beginning, come out sooner, or not taken hormone blockers.
I see how you are silenced because your story is entwined with that of a closeted LGBT partner, and how by telling yours you are telling theirs. I see how you feel unheard by people who don’t want to hear your story because it doesn’t fit the dominant narrative.
I see how you suffer in silence, while the world celebrates your partner coming out; how you wish for a better world, where your pain can be seen, too. And where these closeted relationships become a relic from the past.
I see how you feel guilty for being angry at a partner who has no control over their sexual orientation or gender identity, but who did have control over their choices. I see how you struggle with resentment that your right to make an informed choice was taken from you when they chose you as their cover.
And…
I see how you have scraped together all the strength you could summons to climb your way up out of the pit and begin rebuilding your life again, hoping desperately to find a lotus in the mud.
I see how you are beginning to rise again, like a phoenix; how you are beginning to heal, recover, and thrive. It may not happen overnight, but it will happen, with time and healing.
I see you finding yourself again, or perhaps for the first time. I see you finding your courage, dignity and self-worth. I see you, grieving and smiling, struggling and striving, breathing and knowing: I will be okay.
I see you, finding resources within yourself that you didn’t know you had, and tapping into resources from outside to give you that extra boost. I see you reclaiming your life and laying a solid foundation you can build on. I see you picking up your pen and writing your new story, your next chapter.
And I see those of you who, having found yourself in a mixed-orientation relationship, are striving to make it work, and who see yourselves as your partner’s greatest ally. My wish for you is that you experience all the respect, kindness and strength you need, as you transition to a new kind of relationship.
For those of you with more complex relationships with your LGBT partner/ex-partner, where amicability and respect are harder to find, you don’t have to go through this alone.
Whatever your personal experience is, whatever you are struggling with, I hope you feel seen, validated and understood by at least one of these statements,
Karen







21 years ago since he came out of his closet and I still can trust nobody.
It’s so difficult to trust again after intimate partner deception and betrayal! Learning to trust yourself is often a good place to start, and even that is difficult. As you mentioned, it can take years, and you may never fully trust anyone. Perhaps it’s about learning to live with that reality and still have meaningful relationships.
Karen, this article spoke to me like noone else has. Thank you for understanding how difficult life can be for us straight spouses and thank you for acknowledging our strength to create a new life. You are an inspiration.
I’m so pleased it spoke to you so powerfully, April. Your strength to create a new life is worth acknowledging – it isn’t an easy situation to heal from!
Thank you for this writing. I so appreciate your word choices and how you champion the cause.
Thanks for your comment, Tracy. The word choices are something I constantly grapple with, always trying to find the words that speak to people like you, without causing offence to anyone else.