THIS IS US
I Spent 25 Years in the Closet
And coming out almost killed me
I got married when I was 20 years old. My ex-husband was 27, a graduate student at the university where I was getting my bachelor’s. We met while I was at work at the college bookstore. He bought coffee and always smiled at me. He was gentle and calm. Stable. He felt safe.
We spent about six months together before tying the knot. Our wedding ceremony was in an art gallery near the town where I grew up. The ceremony went well with no hijinks except for a small snowstorm that swirled in and then left just as quickly. I gritted smiles and faked enthusiasm throughout the eight-hour ordeal, even though my body felt wired and uncomfortable.
When we returned to our hotel room, I was exhausted and sweaty and sick of the makeup caked on my face. I knew he was going to initiate sex. Even though I didn’t want to, I felt guilty saying no and got through it as quickly as I could. After, he rolled over and fell asleep. I watched Law and Order and cried because I couldn’t imagine doing this for the rest of my life but saw no alternative.
