Are you okay? Yes, I know that R U OK Day has officially passed us by for another year, which actually raises a very important point: checking in on each other’s mental health is not a one-day thing. I almost didn’t post this blog today, since it’s now officially “after the fact,” and because it’s also the day that the longest-reigning British Monarch has died. This is dominating cyberspace and many people’s attention but it’s also a good reminder that difficult days can occur at any time and without warning.
So, I’m here to ask you, my dear “straight spouse” readers, are you okay? And yes, I mean YOU, not your closeted partner or ex-partner, your kids, or anyone else in your life: I’m asking you.
- For the female readers who’ve discovered your husband is gay, bisexual, or transger: you’ve likely been socialised to prioritise other people’s well-being. If you’re also a mother, the caretaking-of-others role goes into hyperdrive.
- For the male readers who’ve discovered your wife is lesbian, bisexual, or transgender, you’ve likely been socialised to be “strong,” put on a brave face and appear okay even if you’re not.
In the end, nobody wins if we stay in those tiny boxes. You are so much more than this, and it’s okay to feel whatever you feel. You don’t have to keep those feelings, and the truth about your mental health, to yourself. You don’t have to live like you’re on an island.
It’s a mistake on all our parts if we forget to check in with the person standing directly in front of us. It’s a mistake if we make assumptions about a person’s mental health, based on gender assumptions and societal norms.
When our baby died, people often asked my then-husband how I was going, forgetting that he was also grieving. It was as though he was somehow magically excluded from the experience of grief because he was the father, not the mother.
The tables turned when he later came out as gay; this time, the support was definitely in his favour. The majority of people cared about how awful it must have been for him to have been hiding in a closet all that time, while very few stopped to consider what it might have been like for me.
Do you sometimes find yourself wanting to scream and shout, “What about ME?” I guess I’m showing my age (and my Aussie location!) when the first thing that comes to my mind is this iconic song from the ’80s: “What About Me?” by the Australian band, Moving Pictures. This song was quite an “anthem” for many of us growing up in Australia in the ‘80s. Perhaps we could now make it something of a “Straight Spouse Anthem!” 😉
I’ll never forget my ex-husband’s “coming out” post on Facebook. Of all our mutual friends, only two reached out to see how I was. The “unfriend” button was well-used at that time, let me say! This was a great loss to me, as many of them had been friends for many years (and yes, I can see now that it was something of a “knee-jerk reaction,” but at the time, it felt very cathartic!)
Was it like that for you, too? Did you feel like your pain was given less recognition because you were the straight partner, and it wasn’t you that was closeted? The reality is, of course, that you were, in fact, closeted. And it wasn’t a closet of your choosing.
So… what about you? R U OK?
Like many straight spouses, you may feel a sense of displacement in your own story, with your closeted partner seen as the central character and you a mere “support act.” The narrative that people are most comfortable with often focuses on the closeted partner’s emergence and how difficult it’s been for them to have been closeted all this time (which is true!). Unfortunately, fewer people give much thought to your pain and suffering, and yet your suffering is real, even if unseen.
This recently became clearer than ever with the tragic suicide death of a straight spouse who had been grappling with her situation for ten years. I’ll write more about this another time, but for now, I want to say to you:
Your life is worth living.
Your pain is understandable.
You don’t have to suffer in silence, or alone.
Having found yourself in your partner’s closet, it’s natural for you to feel… whatever the heck you feel! Your pain matters. Your grief matters. Your suffering matters. YOU matter. So the question for today and every day is, how are you going, really?
What resources do you have in your world to draw on when things are difficult?
What do you do to cope with your emotional distress?
How and when do you reach out for help?
Who do you have in your world that will listen to (and care about) your story?
If you found yourself saying, “Not much,” or “I don’t,” or perhaps, “No one is really here for me,” in answer to any of those questions, today is a good day to reach out for professional help. If not now, when?
Recovery from this trauma takes more than a minute – time doesn’t automatically heal all wounds. It’s a bit like a marathon that begins with a shocking revelation or discovery and ends with a renewed, transformed version of yourself. Along the way, there are hurdles, detours, quicksand, and landmines. In better news, there is also support, help, and hope. I’ve listed some options below that you may find helpful. If you’re struggling and need support, please don’t hesitate to get in touch. You don’t have to go through this alone.
What if you’re not OK?
If you’re not doing so well and you feel overlooked by the absence of “R U OK” questions from family and friends, you don’t need to sit back and wait passively. It’s okay to initiate the conversation and say, “Hey, I’m not okay. Can you help me?”
R U OK Day is also a great reminder to check in with yourself and ask: “Am I okay?” And if I’m not OK, what am I going to do about it?”
If you’re in Australia and you’re not doing so well, you might find some of these numbers helpful:
Lifeline: 13 1114
Beyond Blue: 1300 22 4636
Suicide Call Back Service: 1300 659 467
1800RESPECT: 1800 737 732
For international readers:
In New Zealand: Suicide Crisis Helpline
In the UK: Suicide Prevention UK
In the US: 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline
You will be OK
I know this because I’ve been where you are, and I am OK. You will be OK, too, especially if you check in with yourself regularly, reach out or help when you need support, and allow others to reach in with care and compassion.
Help is here
You’re also welcome to book in for a complimentary 20-minute chat if you’d like to find out more about counselling or coaching for straight spouses. I’m based in Australia and offer online counselling Australia-wide as well as in New Zealand and the United Kingdom. I also offer trauma recovery coaching globally.







Dear Karen,
I did answer your poll. Don’t worry, I’m not in any danger of taking my life – though I’ve have thought that a convenient accident might be a good end. A fall in the mountains where we live – I’m pretty accident-prone… It is lonely. My wife came out as a lesbian to herself and to me a decade ago now, when we were both in our 60s, nearing retirement. There was no other love interest for either of us, we were still good friends, with lives to closely inter-twined, finances were tight, and new lives apart seemed impossible. So here we are, where I never thought I’d be: in an entirely sexless marriage. There’s much that’s good, but no physical connection or intimacy at all. She cannot feel any desire for me, and that’s what hurts the most, not to be desired. Hard to feel desirable when you know that you’re not desired. We’re out to a small number of friends, and a pastor-therapist. I feel that I’ve been in a serious car-crash and have lost a leg, amputated. But it’s all invisible, and that the few who know act as if all is now well, we’ve both recovered, and life goes on. We seem to be doing well. So there’s no visible place for that daily sense of loss, of what might have been, should have been, and isn’t. I am in her closet, and must remain there. And that’s the way it is: this seems, for us both, the best way forward, onwards. At least we both live in the truth, nothing hidden, no pretence. And but for the lack of sex, it is a good marriage.
I’m glad you’re not in any danger of taking your life! It sounds like you have many challenges to be dealing with. Separating and building new lives apart can be difficult at any age, particularly around the time of retirement after many years together. I’m glad you have honesty and companionship in your marriage, at least, and that you’ve been able to tell a few people. I hope you have some people in your world who are aware of the challenges you’re facing and that it’s not necessarily a case of “all is now well”. If you do feel at risk of self-harm at any time, please reach out for help.