tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70239585339952122892024-03-14T09:56:07.870-04:00The Straightforward ProjectThe Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023958533995212289.post-31323265757192804952019-04-12T15:41:00.000-04:002019-05-01T12:35:21.753-04:00I carry the trauma of a thousand women<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19bwUC3qZ2GYJvPFWH_LjlfKG4buyaW4LqD4ZEW-01NHbVeTC8WLT1D1_lVpo2dpbsSw3DXtQi4RXkC8fOWtU239LirGFiHuTA4D4TwIgS5AxS4QGKasXWE89ncw9Jr2MVK6a7VRwlRE/s1600/village-girls-rajasthan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“I carry the trauma of a thousand women”</span></span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19bwUC3qZ2GYJvPFWH_LjlfKG4buyaW4LqD4ZEW-01NHbVeTC8WLT1D1_lVpo2dpbsSw3DXtQi4RXkC8fOWtU239LirGFiHuTA4D4TwIgS5AxS4QGKasXWE89ncw9Jr2MVK6a7VRwlRE/s1600/village-girls-rajasthan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19bwUC3qZ2GYJvPFWH_LjlfKG4buyaW4LqD4ZEW-01NHbVeTC8WLT1D1_lVpo2dpbsSw3DXtQi4RXkC8fOWtU239LirGFiHuTA4D4TwIgS5AxS4QGKasXWE89ncw9Jr2MVK6a7VRwlRE/s320/village-girls-rajasthan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That phrase appeared in my head this morning as I was doing a
yin yoga class. The instructor, a wise and talented friend and therapy colleague,
was talking about protection and vulnerability. As I breathed into the pose, shoulder
blades “sliding down my back,” those words emerged as if watching them being
typed onto a screen:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I carry…the trauma…of…a thousand...women</i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></i></span>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As a therapist, I’ve been a container for trauma for over thirty
years. And as a straight spouse whose focus is helping <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">other</i> straight spouses, the trauma of my former husband – a man I
loved dearly – coming out as a gay man gets mixed in the emotional soup. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There are times when I am so triggered that I want to scream.
Not triggered by my clients and fellow straight spouses so much, but rather on their behalf, particularly when talking to people who don’t/won’t/can’t
understand the straight spouse experience. “NO!” I say, “It is NOT just like
other divorces!” The invalidation is a dull knife to the heart; not a clean
incision, but rather a painful jab jab jab</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">**Note:
Before I continue, let me make clear my compassion for the LGBT
spouse’s experience, which, although differently painful, is just as real. In this
moment, though, I need to write about me. And Us. The “left-behind spouses,” as one
divorce attorney very indelicately put it.</span></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Even though I’m thirty years out and happily remarried, I can
return to my own despair in an instant. That exact moment that I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">knew</i>…which was decades beyond when <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">he</i> knew. The smirking faces of people
out in public, like old girlfriends and other gay men. <span style="background-color: white; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Crying quietly in bed beside him as the minutes to our inevitable separation ticked
away. </span>The nights of waking up to find myself
wandering around my apartment, looking for him, then remembering he was gone. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But every day, I carry the trauma of a thousand women. And men.
The broken-hearted spouses in my office. The thousands of straight spouses on
Facebook with our many secret groups and private rooms. The people who email me,
usually starting with “I just discovered…”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I carry the trauma of a thousand women, just as they carry each
other’s. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And mine. </span></span><br />
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>The Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023958533995212289.post-58273259174705305402017-05-08T15:22:00.000-04:002018-07-06T20:45:03.731-04:00Happy Mother's Day, Mrs. Bechdel <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6EaW0n34e7z7e0_OlA0wzOoGeZjE7y-UP1Tqy2MDbJgFJ-hOsLW-lDsxwtuCL_HPhnPDscJb9jqe1tQf-pwvp299jLWr9u9MH49ufPDiO93zxrifIo358j4_NhUPxUH6HvDJmtK-_EI/s1600/Fun+Home.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6EaW0n34e7z7e0_OlA0wzOoGeZjE7y-UP1Tqy2MDbJgFJ-hOsLW-lDsxwtuCL_HPhnPDscJb9jqe1tQf-pwvp299jLWr9u9MH49ufPDiO93zxrifIo358j4_NhUPxUH6HvDJmtK-_EI/s400/Fun+Home.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i><i><br /></i></i></div>
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Days and days and days</i></div>
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<i style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><i>That's how it happens </i></i><i></i><br />
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</i>
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<i><i>Days and days and days</i></i></div>
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</i>
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<i><i>Made of lunches</i></i></div>
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</i>
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<i><i>And car rides </i></i></div>
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</i>
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<i><i>And shirts and socks</i></i></div>
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<i>And grades </i></div>
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<i>And piano </i></div>
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<i>And no one clocks </i></div>
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<i>the day you disappear</i></div>
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<br /><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Days and days and days </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">That's how it happens <br />Days and days and days <br />Made of posing, and bragging, and fits of rage<br />And boys – my God, some of them underage! <br />And, oh, how did it all happen here?<br /><br />That's how it happens<br />Days <br />Made of bargains I made because I thought <br />As a wife I was meant to, <br />And now my life is shattered and made bare. <br />Days and days and days and days <br />And days and days and days.<br /><br />Welcome to our house on Maple Avenue. See how we polish and we shine. <br />We rearrange and realign.<br />Everything is balanced and serene. <br />Like chaos never happens if it's never seen. <br /> - "Days and Days" from Fun Home: The Musical (sung by Helen)</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>
</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "bitstream verdana";"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Fun Home</i> is a musical based on Alison Bechdel's graphic memoir of the same name. The musical tells the tale of Alison's sexual awakening as a lesbian woman and her conflicted relationship with her closeted gay father, Bruce, who took his own life four months after she came out. <i>Fun Home</i> was nominated for twelve Tony Awards in 2015 and won five, including Best Musical.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">When Amie Shea of the Gay Dad Project asked me to contribute a Mother's Day blog post, I wanted to speak about the "straight spouse" experience from a different perspective, with a fresh voice. As a psychotherapist, I've seen any number of mothers whose husbands either came out as -- or were discovered to be -- gay. And as a member/facilitator of multiple private online groups, I've read hundreds of stories, and have shared my own. All different...and all the same. And too often only heard by other straight spouses. Heartbreak in an echo chamber.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">But then, as I was contemplating writing this blog post, I saw <i>Fun Home</i> twice in the same week. (Yes, it's that good!) Alison Bechdel's book came to life on stage, giving voice to not only Alison and her gay father, <i style="font-weight: bold;">but also</i> <b><i>her mother Helen</i></b>. It's one of the few times that the straight spouse has been an important part of the narrative.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jesse Green, the theater critic for New York magazine, described Helen's song "Days and Days" (partial lyrics above) as "murmurously devastating." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Helen, like most straight spouses, quietly implodes behind the scenes. The closeted gay husband/father and the lesbian daughter are the main characters, and therefore their struggles are front and center. This particular story is, after all, written from the daughter's perspective about her own sexuality and her father's turmoil about his.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Oh, but Helen. My eyes were on Helen throughout the show. At one point in the song she appears physically broken, as if she finally gives in to the weight of the secret and the betrayal and the deceit. Gives in to the devastating realization that all the years spent over-functioning and holding the family together were for naught. Gives in to the agonizing possibility that her best years are gone, offered up to someone who may or may not have ever truly loved her. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>I want to know what's true<br />Dig deep into who<br />And what and why and when<br />Until now gives way to then...<br /> - "Helen's Etude" from Fun Home: The Musical (sung by Alison)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Alison Bechdel says of her mother, "Like Odysseus' faithful Penelope, my mother kept the household going for twenty years with a more or less absent husband." Helen was a devout Catholic who not only worked and pursued a Master's degree, but also raised three children while coping with a husband who </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">had sexual affairs with multiple men, both before and during their marriage. He </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">was given to fits of unprovoked rage. He also brought young men around to the house and was arrested for plying an underage male with alcohol. On one occasion he brought home body lice. (</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">None of these are uncommon events in the straight spouse experience, by the way. The trauma is about so much more than just a husband coming out.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">In her memoir, Alison describes a photograph of her mother as of a woman whose "luminous face has gone dull." In another photograph, her mother is curled up in a chair, "literally holding herself together." Murmurous devastation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Another straight spouse story. All different. All the same.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Except </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">for this unexpected twist.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">While doing research for this blog, I came across the real Helen Bechdel's obituary from 2013. I was struck by the photo of this beautiful woman, with compassionate dark eyes and a Mona Lisa smile. Here are a few lines from her obituary:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>"Helen was a devoted mother, a gracious hostess, a superb cook, and a consummate housekeeper. And she managed all these things with apparent effortlessness while working full time and pursuing her creative interests with both passion and discipline."<br /><br />While living in New York City, Helen "attended as many plays, operas, poetry readings, concerts, and jazz performances as was humanly possible."<br /><br />She was "a gifted pianist" and had "a passion for opera."<br /><br />"For many summers, Helen was involved with the Millbrook Playhouse in Mill Hall, either performing or working on costumes— often both."<br /><br />"She delighted in her grandchildren."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />In other words, Helen was so much more than a woman bowed by her husband's closeted homosexuality, infidelity, and suicide. She both survived and thrived. She was actively engaged with the world. She didn't curl up and die, as much as she may have wanted to.<br /><br />This is the part of the straight spouse story that doesn't get told nearly enough. Stories like Helen Bechdel's. Straight spouses are brave, out of necessity if nothing else. We are resilient. We keep functioning when NOT functioning would be so much easier. We come through the fire that much stronger. Murmurous devastation gives way to intrepid determination. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">So Happy Mother's Day, Mrs. Bechdel. And to all the rest of you incredible women who are not defined simply by being a straight spouse. You know who you are...and what you're made of. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>I know you.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>I know you. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>I know you.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i> - "Ring of Keys" from Fun Home: The Musical (sung by Alison)</i></span><br />
<u style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></u>
<u style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">Related links</u></div>
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<a href="https://youtu.be/wMJvLTZOhpE">https://youtu.be/wMJvLTZOhpE</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dcAqCMCohto&t=25s">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dcAqCMCohto&t=25s</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2015/05/31/theater/in-fun-home-a-wifes-late-desperate-outcry.html?_r=0">https://www.nytimes.com/2015/05/31/theater/in-fun-home-a-wifes-late-desperate-outcry.html?_r=0</a><br />
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<a href="http://wetzlerfuneralhome.com/book-of-memories/1585010/bechdel-helen/obituary.php">http://wetzlerfuneralhome.com/book-of-memories/1585010/bechdel-helen/obituary.php </a><br />
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<i style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">To schedule a face-to-face or FaceTime session with Kimberly Brooks Mazella, LPC, please go to my website at <a href="http://www.kimberlybrookslpc.com/">www.kimberlybrooksmazella.com</a>.</i></div>
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The Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023958533995212289.post-57955754813007856372016-10-02T20:29:00.000-04:002018-07-06T20:46:57.870-04:00My Most Sincere Condolences for the Loss of Your Marriage<div>
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Yesterday, the New York Times published a story called "The Art of Condolence," about how difficult condolences can be to express. How it can be challenging to find just the right words. How awkward it can feel to comfort others in times of loss. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit8q3_1V1bkX7d3zOxmZKMOFYzwM2zg-rf2qcicid9d74JPtX4ukXPGy-i72AH9ZP-58im1QOkBwpHUOnvjZJxKxAsLWklq9PGD0rhL5iHWO_0pW3g6llQmTijLebAjAdMj9D-4TUF8MQ/s640/blogger-image--373263069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit8q3_1V1bkX7d3zOxmZKMOFYzwM2zg-rf2qcicid9d74JPtX4ukXPGy-i72AH9ZP-58im1QOkBwpHUOnvjZJxKxAsLWklq9PGD0rhL5iHWO_0pW3g6llQmTijLebAjAdMj9D-4TUF8MQ/s400/blogger-image--373263069.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">*From NYTimes.com October 1, 2016 </td></tr>
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Straight spouses are often on the receiving end of awkward condolences...if they receive condolences at all. "How did you not know?" "At least s/he didn't leave you for another wo/man!" "You're so lucky you didn't have children!" "So does that mean you're a 'fag hag?'" (I was personally on the receiving end of that one.)<br />
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Insensitive comments and intrusive questions are part and parcel of the straight spouse experience. </div>
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As Jean Schaar Gochros wrote in her 1989 book, "When Husbands Come Out of the Closet," straight spouses experience a profound sense of "unique isolation." One aspect of this isolation is what we call "disenfranchised grief." That is, grief that others -- society, our families, our ex-spouses, the LGBT community, the church -- don't feel we're entitled to. Because perhaps we're somehow complicit in the deceit. Because we stayed. Because we didn't know. Or because we loved and married a closeted LGBT spouse, we deserve ridicule, not compassion. But just as our exes deserve compassion for their struggle, so do the unsuspecting spouses who are left devastated by the lie. </div>
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You can simply say, "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what this must be like, but I'm here for you. And I care that you're hurting."<br />
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<i style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">To schedule a face-to-face or FaceTime session with Kimberly Brooks Mazella, LPC, please go to my website at <a href="http://www.kimberlybrookslpc.com/">www.kimberlybrooksmazella.com</a>.</i></div>
The Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023958533995212289.post-84525291254415116232015-04-26T17:46:00.000-04:002019-06-06T16:50:08.866-04:00Modern Family: Married...and Trans<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
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Friday night's interview with Bruce Jenner by Diane Sawyer was a turning point in our collective understanding of the struggle of transgendered people. To know that this All-American hero, the perfect specimen of handsome masculinity and fitness, has been tormented by gender identity confusion since childhood, was painful to hear. Reading Twitter and Facebook posts during and after the interview revealed expressions of compassion and encouragement. His first two wives and the majority of his children offered their unconditional love and support, with sincere wishes for his happiness. </div>
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He's out. The burden of the secret has been lifted. He can finally move forward with his transition into Her. Pictures taken of him yesterday morning revealed the smile of a man who was free at last. And the morning after, we celebrated his courage and feel empathy for the years of pain. I, for one, am genuinely happy for him. <i>Everyone</i> deserves to live an authentic life.</div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">But Jenner's somewhat tidy ending misses a huge chunk of the story, because his life overlaps so many others'. Although life can't really be neatly depicted in a drawing, I think my Venn diagram (below) pretty clearly lays out important relationships that are now being or have been affected by Jenner's gender identity struggle. And it's not just in his case, of course, but is true for every LGBT person who comes out during a marriage. Every circle has an equally important story to tell. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0MLvAasCH1ynivjQMDyWoBMCgCoahLnfwroob81CKm_ERAXrFtj3W18mmQ1wBpCTd5R6rR42qTfCnftSGXfb9kArazk8cKNJasBYM7F7s6lsR3eKuT6ygtAr4cPD1LuBH_EFaCg1Eh8k/s1600/Venn+diagram+cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0MLvAasCH1ynivjQMDyWoBMCgCoahLnfwroob81CKm_ERAXrFtj3W18mmQ1wBpCTd5R6rR42qTfCnftSGXfb9kArazk8cKNJasBYM7F7s6lsR3eKuT6ygtAr4cPD1LuBH_EFaCg1Eh8k/s1600/Venn+diagram+cropped.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">First, let's look at the kids. It's not unusual for a child to sense that something is "off" in the family. They may find evidence that Mom or Dad is LGBT; it might be a photo, a text accidentally read, or maybe one parent has a new same-sex friend that they're spending more time with. Or in Jenner's case, being "caught" wearing women's clothing. And for the child(ren), the internal dialogue might sound like this: "Who do I tell? Can I ask my parent(s) about it? I have this secret and it's too much for me. I'm so mad at my mom for marrying him! I'm so mad at my dad for being gay! I'm so embarrassed! What are my friends going to think? Does this mean I'm gay, too?"</span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">The second circle represents the "straight spouse." Or, as one attorney I worked with so indelicately put it, the "left-behind spouse." That spouse just had his/her world turned upside down. Sometimes it happens abruptly, and sometimes there is a growing suspicion that reveals itself over time. There are often years of a sexless marriage. We wonder, "Am I not attractive enough? Sexy enough? Manly enough?" We buy satin sheets, sexy lingerie, her favorite flowers. We make his favorite meal. Sometimes we even directly ask, and get a defensive denial in response. It is crazy-making and self-esteem shattering. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">The strongest punch to the gut for the straight spouse is finding evidence of infidelity. The genitalia close-ups on Craigslist's M4M page. The sex toys discovered in a suitcase after a business trip. Love letters left out in the open. For your LGBT spouse, it's a new life. For you, it's the death of everything you thought you knew or thought you had. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">As you can see, there is a lot of overlap between the kids' and the spouses' internal experience. The description I hear most frequently is feeling like Alice in Wonderland after falling down the Rabbit Hole. Things you thought were real aren't, and beliefs you had about life are blown to smithereens in an instant. And if no one is talking about it, it's all that much more discombobulating.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">The final circle is the person who is coming out as LGBT. Bruce Jenner's description of his years of internal conflict was heartbreaking. Although times are changing, the truth is that historically being gay or transgender has been more than just "not OK"; people are rejected by their families, kicked out of churches, denied jobs. Even killed. I know one person whose mother threatened to kill herself if he was gay. So he's married instead. And miserable. As Bruce Jenner has shown us, it can take decades to come to terms with one's gender identity and/or sexual orientation, and the process for some is agonizing. And lots people get hurt in the process, even if that was never the intent. Some LGBT folks truly believe that if they can just find that right person, they can create a "traditional" life and tamp down those authentic-but-unacceptable feelings. Too many of us know, of course, that it simply doesn't work that way.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Every person in that Venn diagram has a story to tell. Some experiences and feelings are the same. Some are different. And all of the stories are valid and true.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Let me say that again:<b> All of the stories are equally valid and true. </b>My truth doesn't negate yours. And the LGBT person's truth doesn't negate the straight spouse's.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><b><br /></b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Which brings us to the heart in the middle of the circles, that place where all of the lives overlap. It's the place of communicating and understanding one another's experience, one another's feelings. Understanding does not mean forgiving; it may not even mean you're less hurt. Less angry. But seeking to dwell in that heart space MUST be the goal if we're ever going to heal as family members, as individuals, as a society. That heart is the place where four things must happen:</span></span></span></div>
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<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"> Allow your partner/child to tell his/her story</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"> Listen and hear without interruption. (It should be no surprise that this is the hardest one.)</span></li>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"> Validate their experience. Or, to borrow from Harville Hendrix, say something like, "It makes sense that you feel that way." <b>And mean it!</b> (Note: Validating is different from agreeing. Remember, every story is valid and true)</span></div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"> Express genuine remorse. "Dad, I'm sorry I ignored your calls and texts. I just didn't know what to say to you." "Honey, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before we got married. You deserved to have known." "Dave, I'm sorry I called you those terrible names."</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></li>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">What does </span><i style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">your </i><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Venn diagram look like? Are you firmly planted in your circle, certain that yours is the only story that counts?</span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Or are you moving towards your heart?</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><i style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; font-size: medium; line-height: normal;">To schedule a face-to-face or FaceTime session with Kimberly Brooks Mazella, LPC, please go to my website at <a href="http://www.kimberlybrookslpc.com/">www.straightforwardcounseling.com</a>. Or contact me at kbmazella@gmail.com.</i></span></span></div>
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The Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023958533995212289.post-59954133826922363602013-04-24T02:02:00.000-04:002019-06-06T16:58:22.536-04:00A picture is worth a thousand hurts<div style="text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We have a little members-only virtual clubhouse where fellow str8s meet to swap stories; vent frustrations; share the devastating pain of an unwanted, unplanned divorce; tell the occasional off-color joke; give and receive virtual hugs; commiserate about learning to date again; and generally just hang out and talk about the shared experience of having unknowingly married a closeted LGBT person. With a membership of over 450 people, it's certain that most of us will never meet face to face. But the bond isn't any less strong simply because of the electronic venue; in fact, our common str8 experience makes for an immediate sense of "knowing", like running into another American in Greece and suddenly that person is your new best friend. No backstory needed; I </span><i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">know </i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">you.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today people posted pictures of themselves and their spouses, pre-divorce. I'm not sure who started it, but by the end of the evening there were over fifty pictures posted, including one of my favorite photos from my own wedding day. Lots of happy, smiling faces. Wedding photos, recommitment ceremonies, vacations, new babies, father-daughter dances...they could be pictures of any family, anywhere. Except for the accompanying captions</span>:</div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"This was taken one week before she left me for another woman."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">"At a friend's wedding. Found out later he hooked up with one of the waiters at the reception." </span> </i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">"He liked to take pictures with everyone; I was just another casual person to take a picture with."</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"This was on our honeymoon. I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>"With our daughter before a dance. He had been dating his boyfriend for three </i></span><i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">months at that point, unbeknownst to me."</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>"Holding our baby. I found out right before I gave birth that he had been soliciting </i></span><i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">sex from men online."</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"This was during a short-lived happy period. He lost a damn good woman."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"This was on my graduation day. He came out less than a month later."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"This is the picture he used to meet men online."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>"I took this picture on a romantic lunch date. He used it on a gay dating site less than </i></span><i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">three weeks later."</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjah38D_l-AtL7AfrteWp-5DoCjTE0r9H0839I1wT0NLODkL_zMcu11ZHOZYi2JpcRAnWIL7cyBvs8ePmrPR__nVqV0bn9d3Yde8CcRej85LZKCe9Zutbamjaq7k4XK6YcgyEJ4_hzPJyk/s1600/wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And my own description of that favorite photo: "</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;"><i>It's interesting...I'm kissing HIM, while his hands are not touching me at all."</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 17px;">I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was exactly about the photo-sharing that got to me. It's not about TGT (that's "the gay thing" in str8 shorthand). I understand the closet, I feel deep compassion for the struggle, I appreciate the desire to live the "acceptable" life and have the husband/wife, the 2.3 kids and the golden retriever. I really do get that, and work hard in both my personal and professional lives to promote equality. No one should have to pretend to be someone or something that they aren't.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That said, I found myself feeling emotionally triggered as I scrolled through the pictures again and again. As I sat here struggling to find just the right words to describe what I was feeling, another club member beat me to it with her very honest and to-the-point post:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">It is really interesting to see all the photos, but it is also sad because not one of you in those pics thought that the person you fell in love with would one day end up gay. Right now I am angry at him and all of them for the hurt and the pain that they have put us through. I am angry that so many of us are struggling financially because of their [behavior]. I am angry because so many of us are on meds because of the sh*t we have gone through. I am angry because many of us were made to feel sexually inadequate because of their inability to be honest with themselves. Lastly, I am angry because so many children have been hurt by this. We also deserve happiness and peace in our lives."</span></span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px;">And that, for far too many members of our not-so-little club, is a pretty clear snapshot of the <i>other</i> side of this unhappy closet.</span></span><br />
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<i style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #666666; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">To schedule a face-to-face or FaceTime session with Kimberly Brooks Mazella, LPC, please go to my website at <a href="http://www.kimberlybrookslpc.com/">www.kimberlybrooksmazella.com</a>.</span></i></div>
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The Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023958533995212289.post-18646557895577829532013-04-21T15:43:00.000-04:002018-05-25T22:41:38.137-04:00Piece by peace<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>by guest blogger Ken Rinehart</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Last weekend I bought a mandolin. For about two months I have been coveting this beautiful work of art. Saturday the guy in the combo department at the local music store decided he wanted to deal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The significance it represents in my life is daunting. This August it will be two years since my wife walked out of my life and started her new life with another woman. At one point I had $15 to my name, so I sold my prized possession <strike> </strike> my mandolin <strike> </strike> for $75.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkg2ZoR9sBKYJQvaeEfzrFjZLN9eDN-5Kjh2MGSV1A1UzTGuREr2i25AIuYWOGYvwQk7XcQqD2ZYYG1-PgIZlsnjJ-k-2IvmeOwd7aZvGeBm_CgrmbkkiMYZg0oawxv1B6YKx7Cp8OKzo/s1600/mandolin_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkg2ZoR9sBKYJQvaeEfzrFjZLN9eDN-5Kjh2MGSV1A1UzTGuREr2i25AIuYWOGYvwQk7XcQqD2ZYYG1-PgIZlsnjJ-k-2IvmeOwd7aZvGeBm_CgrmbkkiMYZg0oawxv1B6YKx7Cp8OKzo/s1600/mandolin_3.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Since August of 2011 I have experienced the death of my father and the death of my sheepdog. I lost faith in my church and beliefs I held strongly about my purpose on this earth. I lost some of my dear friends, lost close contact with much of my extended family. The world and my understanding of it was squarely upside-down. I sold most of my possessions, or at least the ones I could get some quick cash for.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I had no choice but to just look up. Looking down took me to an even more crippling place. In some strange way it was learning to totally reconstruct my life in ways I had never </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">imagined or even knew existed or knew how to start.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Ironic as it may seem, I am grateful for that experience. Truly grateful.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">The trial of forgiveness is something that has never been challenged in my life. No one has ever taken everything I have given and piled it up in my room and said "no thanks" so briskly and rapidly as they exited my life without explanation or seeming concern about my well-being. </span></span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">I would like to say I understand. I would like to say "all is forgiven."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Phrases have come with this journey:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><strike> </strike> Everything happens for a reason.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><strike> </strike> You got a lot on your plate.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><strike> </strike> God doesn't give us anything we can't handle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Those are from people that don't know or understand what this felt like. Just as I will never know the grief of losing a child. What it's like to suffer some traumatic loss. To truly know you have to experience it, heart and mind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I asked someone early on how is it possible to be a victim in this without adopting a victim mentality. She said, "Being a victim is a state of mind you put yourself in." "Being a victim of circumstance is just a fact in this scenario."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Many things have happened. Numerous things have unfolded. Unconditional love from strangers that I never had experienced before nor thought was possible. Development of inner strength that to this day is surprising and disarming. Falling in love again, only this time feeling more like an adolescent with higher stakes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">All of these things and more only started to unfold when I lost the story of "someone did something to me." Life changed. I am not entitled to know the story that someone doesn't want to honestly and openly tell me. It's silly to expect someone to act the same toward you who is preoccupied with their new truths unfolding, truths that go deep into the recesses of denying their sexuality. I have found it is true of only a few of extraordinary people. The honesty, the openness of moving through and out of a marriage with kindness and compassion toward one another. It's hard enough with two people without the twist of same sex attraction.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Weeks ago my new love was having a heart procedure. Side by side her gay husband and I stood in the hospital waiting room, waiting to get an update. Our mutual love for her and our deep friendship is something that is hard to not share with those that don't understand anything outside of a "traditional family." What was and is true is that we don’t need to. We know what this is.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I bought the mandolin. I walked out of the hospital with my new family. I am surrounded by so much love from friends I can hug daily, and those I have never met.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">For this, too, I am grateful. Truly grateful. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">To those that reflected back to me who I really am. To those who have graced the path with their stories, their experiences, guidance, and wisdom. To those who allowed me into their lives when they were at their weakest points. To my true love who appeared and blindsided me when I wasn't looking, and embraced me in that parking lot in Chicago where life changed on its axis. To the god within and without that never abandoned me even when I thought I lost faith in the ever-present light and goodness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Although I never thought I would say or write these words, I am grateful to my ex-wife for loving me the best way she knew how, and starting me on this journey as she started hers. I hope and pray that one day we will be able to talk about both of our journeys with each other, in peace.</span><br />
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<i style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; line-height: normal;">To schedule a face-to-face or FaceTime session with Kimberly Brooks Mazella, LPC, please go to my website at <a href="http://www.kimberlybrookslpc.com/">www.kimberlybrooksmazella.com</a>.</i></div>
The Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023958533995212289.post-21869339744881603992013-03-07T10:46:00.000-05:002015-04-30T19:38:48.862-04:00A letter to my gay husband<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Recently, I was inspired to include voices of other straight spouses </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">on my blog. I became aware that sharing our stories with each other, while helpful, just isn't enough. <i>We </i>already<i> </i>know all too well the pain and devastation of a spouse coming out. My hope is that you, the reader, will share this with others. Believe me, whether you know it or not, you have a straight spouse in your life. </span><br />
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<span style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b> <u>Letter to my Gay Husband</u></b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqr7ZAJNcAvVnfNz98EruhFBqt6mkyJQpTJynAo27sWmb3zE-Q7YXmfIXDWWMDBETwY8C0rHXkRc2uFrKJmOXUCGlvXbRzIwSWIarzFRKdhu2aKk7Tj1PHpUvToSFiQFb4Z4Lf1pOhpY/s1600/529506_537246546306028_632206286_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqr7ZAJNcAvVnfNz98EruhFBqt6mkyJQpTJynAo27sWmb3zE-Q7YXmfIXDWWMDBETwY8C0rHXkRc2uFrKJmOXUCGlvXbRzIwSWIarzFRKdhu2aKk7Tj1PHpUvToSFiQFb4Z4Lf1pOhpY/s1600/529506_537246546306028_632206286_n.jpg" height="196" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The moment is both crystal clear and a haze of emotions. That moment. That moment at 8 am on an August morning when you hesitated and took a breath for a millisecond after telling me what bills you had paid and how D’s college tuition was being covered. The moment that is the bridge between the safe and comfortable world that I knew and the one that I live in now. The moment that preceded the 9 words that shattered my dreams for the future and my memories of the past. “And, I need to tell you that I’m gay.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Those words were the gateway to the many months I spent walking through fog in an upside down world, holding all known emotions side by side in my heart - anger, compassion, sadness, love, devastation, strength, resolve, darkness, self-love, self-loathing, fury, and peace. At the time, of course, I believed that had you been more thoughtful in your disclosure, or had you better anticipated what I might need and want, it would have “felt” better. In hindsight, I know that nothing could have diminished the pain and disorientation I have come to embrace as my own as a result of your truth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222;">We have talked more intimately in the past 6 months than we had during our 28 years of marriage; hundreds of hours by my estimation. Almost certainly it is because of my need to know the watershed of thoughts, feelings and experiences that you kept hidden for all of these years. I wanted to know that part of you too. I have heard all of the things you have shared. Some of them have helped me believe that you truly love me, in your way. Some of them have helped me understand the myriad of forces that enable men like you to live a life-time trying to suppress or manage their same-sex attractions for the sake of normalcy. But when all is said and done, while you transition to living your life authentically, I still have a broken heart. You focus on happy years we had together. I focus on this less; I didn't want a marriage that was going to end. I am trying to forgive you. I am trying to let go of the anger. I am trying to give primacy to the love we still share. It is hard.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In Senegal’s <i>Maison des Esclaves</i> (The House of Slaves) the door to the quarters of captured slaves is known as “Goree”, The Door of No Return. That is our door. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Every possible path to the relationship we knew is blocked. Although we have tried and tried to navigate around this, to see what we can work out, in reality there’s no way back.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can’t imagine having survived the past 6 months without the support of other str8 spouses that are ahead of me in this journey. Sadly, there are hundreds of us. We, collectively, can validate the feelings of pain, betrayal, deceit, loss that each of us experience as we let go of the person we loved so deeply but could not keep.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I know that you are sorry. I thank you for having been so present for me as I process where we are. You have stayed with me and with our 4 boys. But in the end, none of it matters. I love you. I always will. I only wish that you had loved me enough to have been more careful with my heart. <span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>~ <i><b>Anonymous</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>To schedule a face-to-face or FaceTime session with Kimberly Brooks Mazella, LPC, please go to my website at </em></span><a href="http://www.kimberlybrookslpc.com/"><em><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">www.straightforwardcounseling.com</span></em></a><i style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">. </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi9K_gnmdQWsMmJOvPQc07HRoZPxBrliXDNHhFlbMhWDJrWD2g0MRjWOrrvSYTM_fpidkfLfpjBQB3aDZAAkWgr6_LQA_h9jIAQ_4ZU1W09tTjL0w_yraPkFU1A1SPTobWE6Su8dL-k_s/s1600/bedroom_balcony.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi9K_gnmdQWsMmJOvPQc07HRoZPxBrliXDNHhFlbMhWDJrWD2g0MRjWOrrvSYTM_fpidkfLfpjBQB3aDZAAkWgr6_LQA_h9jIAQ_4ZU1W09tTjL0w_yraPkFU1A1SPTobWE6Su8dL-k_s/s1600/bedroom_balcony.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Here are some wise words, posted by a fellow straight spouse. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Some of these suggestions are the exact opposite of what we want to do, what we're drawn to do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Remaining engaged can feel comforting in the short-term, but ultimately it just prolongs the pain, especially if our partners have already moved on.</span></div>
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<em style="line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Distancing is especially important in an emotional relationship gone wrong. </b></span></em></div>
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<span style="line-height: 16px;">Stop asking new personal things of your partner about him/herself.</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 16px;">Don't give out personal things about yourself to them. </span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 16px;">Don't bend over backward to help them more than is necessary.</span><br /><br /><span style="line-height: 16px;">Don't help them if they or someone else can.</span><br /><span style="line-height: 16px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 16px;">Don't bend over backward to celebrate any occasions that involve them. </span><br /><span style="line-height: 16px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 16px;">Avoid discussions that involve their lives, re: old topics.</span><br /><span style="line-height: 16px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 16px;">Start to develop new activities that don't involve them.</span><br /><span style="line-height: 16px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 16px;">Try to make new friends, acquaintances, anything.</span><br /><span style="line-height: 16px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 16px;">Make small changes in your life: rearrange furniture, change decorations, try new soaps, ride your bike in a different route, eat at a different restaurant, eat different foods, cook them a different way, shop at different stores, rearrange the landscaping, change some of your habits, change the style of clothing you wear, etc.</span><br /><span style="line-height: 16px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 16px;">If they ask favors of you, tell them you want time to think about it.</span></span><br />
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<ol style="line-height: 16px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 35px;"> <span style="font-family: "verdana";">~ Author unknown</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></span></ol>
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<i style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; font-weight: 400; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">To schedule a face-to-face or FaceTime session with Kimberly Brooks Mazella, LPC, please go to my website at <a href="http://www.kimberlybrookslpc.com/">www.kimberlybrooksmazella.com</a>.</i></h4>
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The Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023958533995212289.post-39784039506560243742012-07-15T13:49:00.000-04:002019-06-06T17:00:01.234-04:00Playing catch-up<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This memory, as with most memories that evoke strong emotion, is a visual, visceral snapshot. We are sitting on a bench along Lake Eola near his law office, watching swans glide across the water. I am wearing my pretty white Liz Claiborne dress. He is impeccably attired, as always, with the faint scent of Calvin Klein's "Obsession" cologne. We have been separated for maybe two months, three at most. He is once again indulging my endless need for contact and conversation, my latest attempt to relieve this incessant grief-ache that plagues me.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmicHhsMDD3-YEgwXycloKRSMvng-oYK5YcoyonY5850ltaO_IIPROuGribjOfn_UbZVtOsLGq_DvZ0A0zwIfBCKHjuZQiRzBiGcJZcM26hU18T7FqsaPqg3AJ9O-ZgTMqDiZA7F-aHMI/s1600/swans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmicHhsMDD3-YEgwXycloKRSMvng-oYK5YcoyonY5850ltaO_IIPROuGribjOfn_UbZVtOsLGq_DvZ0A0zwIfBCKHjuZQiRzBiGcJZcM26hU18T7FqsaPqg3AJ9O-ZgTMqDiZA7F-aHMI/s1600/swans.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He is light years ahead of me on this road we're going down. He got the map way before I even knew we needed one. New home, new love, new life. He makes a joke, the last word of which is "</span><em style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">under<strong>STAN</strong></em><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">?".</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Stan is his lover's name.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">He is not an unkind person by nature, this soon-to-be-ex-husband of mine. Rather, he is a prisoner just set free from a 30-year sentence. The guards came, with their clanking keys and heavy footsteps, and opened his cell door forever. And he left that prison with hesitant, uncertain steps at first, a newborn squinting in the sunlight of liberation, then began trotting, finally breaking into a full-bore sprint towards happiness. He has traveled so far and with such speed that I can barely see him anymore. And he clearly cannot see me. Because this joke, this light-hearted emphasis of his lover's name, is profoundly unkind and breathtakingly insensitive. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But he has no idea of the pain just inflicted. He is free. He is finally able to live as he is. And he is happy. How that joke lands on me doesn't even register. He has found the heart salve that I am so desperately trying to extract from him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And on the peaceful noonday waters of Lake Eola, the swans, mated for life, glide away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><i style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #666666; line-height: normal;">To schedule a face-to-face or FaceTime session with Kimberly Brooks Mazella, LPC, please go to my website at <a href="http://www.kimberlybrookslpc.com/">www.kimberlybrooksmazella.com</a>.</i></span><br />
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The Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023958533995212289.post-35470962218534443932012-05-07T23:36:00.000-04:002018-05-25T22:36:33.130-04:00Grrratitude<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This dinosaur recently discovered the joy that is satellite radio. All those years spent driving around without it...who knew the treasure trove of music and wisdom that awaited me?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Take, for example, Oprah's Lifeclass, Oprah's Soulclass, Oprah's anything. Oprah is my new addiction, my "Must Hear Radio." Every single episode contains some gem, some piece of wisdom that knocks on my brain and says, "Hello? Anyone in there? Because this one's for <i>you.</i>" Between Oprah, Deepak Chopra, Wayne Dyer, Ram Dass, Iyanla Vansant et al., I am veritable fountain of spiritual and emotional growth. Of course, my aging brain forgets 50% of it an hour later, but in the moment, I am e-volved.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I can't recall with certainty the title of the particular program that <i>really</i> got my attention, but it may have been something like "Gratitude...Really?" or "Transcendence for Dummies." It was all about living in a place of gratitude, being thankful for the gifts received as a result of whatever #!*%! experiences we've been through.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQBFod8stSmXOOX2kz6Vp1sz0RF4ecCSvO6YH7XlnrMGtZxcpmTId4ceYBoUe7LAYaVLXOZOqmECQHwjEzoeRXKmCoaZ3qvYD2GKc4-ZwujN7GFO_2mgi3vuWTsLhnivSEC0T3Ue4IwY/s1600/Mary+Oliver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQBFod8stSmXOOX2kz6Vp1sz0RF4ecCSvO6YH7XlnrMGtZxcpmTId4ceYBoUe7LAYaVLXOZOqmECQHwjEzoeRXKmCoaZ3qvYD2GKc4-ZwujN7GFO_2mgi3vuWTsLhnivSEC0T3Ue4IwY/s320/Mary+Oliver.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have actually preached about the idea of gratitude many times when wearing my therapist hat, and intellectually it makes perfect sense. But I am more than a little amused at how the person behind the therapist (me) was resistant to actually embracing and applying the concept to myself. The words "practice what you preach" and "therapist, heal thyself" come to mind...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So, here goes:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Rob, thank you for giving me the experience of having married you, and having shared your journey of coming to terms with your homosexuality. Because of it, I have learned or gained the following:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">1. I discovered a depth of compassion within myself that I didn't know was there, because I felt your deep pain and distress even as I was going through my own.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">2. I am a wiser person and a better therapist for having experienced such a profound loss...and even more so for coming out on the other side relatively intact. (You only get credit for the first part; the second part was all me).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">3. Your description of your attraction to men as being "as fundamental as hunger" helped me not only understand you, but lets me now share my understanding with others that homosexuality is not in any way, shape or form a "choice" -- it's a hard-wiring over which you had no control, no matter how much you wanted it to be different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">4. Because of my own battle with grief, depression and loss following the end of our marriage, I bring authenticity to my work, and am not afraid to share who I am with my clients, warts and all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">5. I gained a credible voice in the straight spouse struggle, and am in a unique position to be of assistance to both straight spouses and those coming out of the closet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Would I want to go through it all again? No. But am I a better person for having had that experience? Absolutely. And so, in the end, I am grateful. Seriously.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So -- thank you, Rob.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">(And thanks, Oprah!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><i style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; line-height: normal;">To schedule a face-to-face or FaceTime session with Kimberly Brooks Mazella, LPC, please go to my website at <a href="http://www.kimberlybrookslpc.com/">www.kimberlybrooksmazella.com</a>.</i></div>
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The Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023958533995212289.post-26541244549550703882012-03-31T14:15:00.000-04:002018-05-25T22:35:14.108-04:00Beyond heartbreak<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; line-height: 18px;"><i>“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fil<span class="Apple-style-span">ls them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> <i>~ Elisabeth </i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1506.Elisabeth_K_bler_Ross" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; line-height: 16px;"><i><span style="color: black;">Kübler</span>-<span style="color: black;">Ross</span></i></span></a></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have been so moved by the straight spouses who have been willing to share their stories, both via my blog and in my office. The quote above was posted by a gay friend on Facebook recently, and it just articulated so perfectly the healing that can and does take place in our lives. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Even 25 years later it takes very little effort to recall, both cognitively and viscerally, those dark days and nights after my marriage ended. I saw clients all day, then came home to my empty apartment and cried all evening. To this day, there are songs I can't bear to hear -- "Somewhere Out There," "Lady in Red," and anything by Bob James and Earl Klugh. That music provided the score to my grief and can call it back in a flash. Red wine and Mint Milano cookies were a weak attempt to stanch its flow. Every pillowcase was stained with mascara. I felt discarded. Foolish. Sad. And profoundly alone. Believe me, there are no special grief exemptions for therapists. No tricks of the trade or inside information. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So I know heartbreak. And, to the extent possible, I know <i>your</i> heartbreak. And while it never goes away completely, there will come a time when it no longer defines you. A time when it is no longer your first awareness in the morning nor your last thought at night. And you can love again, love someone who will treasure and protect and deserve your trust. A secure net for your leap of faith.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #111111; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; line-height: 22px;">Wishing us all peaceful hearts.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The Journey</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">One day you finally knew</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">what you had to do, and began,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">though the voices around you</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">kept shouting</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">their bad advice ‑</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">though the whole house</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">began to tremble</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">and you felt the old tug</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">at your ankles.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">“Mend my life!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">each voice cried.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">But you didn’t stop.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">You knew what you had to do,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">though the wind pried</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">with its stiff fingers</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">at the very foundations,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">though their melancholy</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">was terrible. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It was already late </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">enough, and a wild night,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">and the road full of fallen</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">branches and stones.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">But little by little,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">as you left their voices behind,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">the stars began to burn</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">through the sheets of clouds,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">and there was a new voice</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">which you slowly</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">recognized as your own,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">that kept you company</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">as you strode deeper and deeper</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">into the world,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">determined to do</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">the only thing you could do ‑</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">determined to save</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">the only life you could save.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> ~ Mary Oliver</span><br />
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<i style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-weight: 400; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">To schedule a face-to-face or FaceTime session with Kimberly Brooks Mazella, LPC, please go to my website at <a href="http://www.kimberlybrookslpc.com/">www.kimberlybrooksmazella.com</a>.</i></h4>
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The Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023958533995212289.post-80653498677195487652012-02-19T12:02:00.002-05:002018-05-25T22:27:36.034-04:00Collateral damage<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWsQRwtI218hx6C20z_mQIezRL72HxUV1CyieARYIExk-E3WSUdrSWvcTiw72KnbDY7rIO2W0uMCH4j2C51y7_m_Aa6tFrrzYtAQnpgOFb4Hmd667A4rV_bf2ZL5KLrkMOqonnH5cQCo/s1600/broken-heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWsQRwtI218hx6C20z_mQIezRL72HxUV1CyieARYIExk-E3WSUdrSWvcTiw72KnbDY7rIO2W0uMCH4j2C51y7_m_Aa6tFrrzYtAQnpgOFb4Hmd667A4rV_bf2ZL5KLrkMOqonnH5cQCo/s1600/broken-heart.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When my husband came out all those years ago, I didn't know, or even know of, any other spouse who'd had this type of experience. As a therapist, I felt like a fraud. As a woman, I felt like a fool. I was embarrassed, devastated, and utterly alone with my grief.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Didn't you know?!"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Just pretend he died."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Or the most hurtful, from a fellow mental health professional --- "Well, <em>that </em>wasn't a marriage!"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Well, it was, actually. It was <em>my</em> marriage. My dream. My love. My trust. All shattered by a lie. A completely avoidable lie.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In a 2009 Washington Post article I referred to straight spouses as "collateral damage" (<a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/06/AR2009110602953.html">http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/06/AR2009110602953.html</a>). The Department of Defense defines collateral damage as "unintentional or incidental injury or damage to [a] person..." as the result of combat. The 19 children who died in the Oklahoma City bombing? Also "collateral damage." Dramatic comparisons, perhaps, but those of us whose spouses come out feel just that incidental. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">C'est la guerre.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In war, the total collateral damage can't be precisely counted. The same is true of straight spouses. We don't "come out" for any number of reasons -- embarrassment; trying to maintain a certain image; protecting our spouses and families; and on and on. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's time to come out and be counted. We are not incidental. We are not collateral damage. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There are a surprisingly large number of us who have not made public our situation. We are loving, trusting people who, every day, work to overcome pain, embarrassment and the ultimate betrayal to piece together new, authentic lives. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And, we count.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
The Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023958533995212289.post-21709592197332005682012-02-15T23:13:00.002-05:002018-05-25T22:34:46.742-04:00...and so it began.<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="margin: 0.25em 0px 0px; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmgP9VADRd8IL2wk1ArzwqsGm0l6uS2Ipc8dGiDE9W11BL4F-uFae6yEHuL-JIpQMayqZvZmo-u7JkwU1by1pyRGQ-bM_WAbszIEm67bSCHhl_7cS0WqIl1SGR5fJmxrDaKaWT9vwRfUk/s1600/not+listening.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmgP9VADRd8IL2wk1ArzwqsGm0l6uS2Ipc8dGiDE9W11BL4F-uFae6yEHuL-JIpQMayqZvZmo-u7JkwU1by1pyRGQ-bM_WAbszIEm67bSCHhl_7cS0WqIl1SGR5fJmxrDaKaWT9vwRfUk/s1600/not+listening.jpg" /></a></div>
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.25em; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal; line-height: 25px;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Laura to Kim: "Kim, this is Rob."</span></span></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal; line-height: 25px;">Kim' inner voice: ("He's<i> GAY!</i>")</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal; line-height: 25px;">Kim to Rob, extending hand: "Nice to meet you."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Why did I not listen to my Wise Mind, my knowing Self, my spot-on intuition? Standing before me -- a ridiculously tall (at least to my 5'2" mind), very handsome man, an attorney. Nice smile, salt & pepper hair styled just so, plaid Ralph Lauren shirt over a maroon sleeveless tee, just a wee bit snug. A blind date arranged by mutual friends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">And my gut says he's gay. Screams, really. That should have been the end of it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">It was, of course, not. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">That moment, that simple introduction, that immediate and involuntary tamping down of the knowing voices would come to shape and define the rest of my adult life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">In my clinical work with other straight spouses, this aspect of my story seems less commonplace than other pieces. There are so many experiences, feelings, and thoughts that we all share, but similar instances of my electrical shock moment -- "he's gay!"-- aren't revealed very often at all. Vague suspicions or a niggling feeling that something's <i>just not right</i> are more the norm, and those often don't poke through the soil until after many years of marriage. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">But we all wind up in the same place -- heartbroken and confused. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">How did we get here? Shared denial? Naivete? Blind faith? Con? Only in retrospect can I see that my own marriage to a gay man was the blending together of many complicated ingredients, not the least of which were two large dollops of wishful thinking, one on each of our parts, that our marriage was what it seemed to be...and that he was not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span><i style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: medium; line-height: normal;">To schedule a face-to-face or FaceTime session with Kimberly Brooks Mazella, LPC, please go to my website at <a href="http://www.kimberlybrookslpc.com/">www.kimberlybrooksmazella.com</a>.</i></div>
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The Straightforward Project™http://www.blogger.com/profile/17638619483786416938noreply@blogger.com5