I was really pleased to see your response. I know none of us can really speak for everyone in our sex, but I was glad to see such a thoughtful response from your point of view. How cruel of your ex to turn away from you because of your weight. Yes, I imagine you do know how many of us feel when a loved one turns away. I think the parallel is an apt one.
I was struck, too, (as was Cathy) with another observation you made:
This makes a lot of sense to me...and helps explain the...for lack of a better word...instinctual drawing back that I have seen on my wife's face. (And, as I think I said earlier, this reaction has nothing to her seeing me dressed. She hasn't. She hasn't even seen any of my clothes. Nothing.) For her, it's just knowing about me that causes it...seeing me online at this forum... checking my email...(or even worse, chatting with someone in real time)...that's enough.When he comes over to the female side, well, there's this lack of ... uh... balance in the room.
You say:
Yes, it does count for something...and I know that's what my wife is trying to do, too. I know it...but every time her face closes over, I sense what she is feeling. I sense the truth: that she is trying to love me...but she can't. And I don't know what hurts more: knowing that I am, in her eyes, unloveable, or knowing that I cause her so much pain.I am afraid that I am probably as guilty of closing my eyes, physically drawing back from my sweetie as Jessica-Karen's SO. And I try to hide it, just as she does, for my sweetie's sake...OTOH, I *am* trying because I *do* love him...That's gotta count for something in making him *feel* loved.
I know that you have somehow reached the stage where you do not find your husband disgusting or deviant, rather that you are trying to find a comfortable way of relating to him "when he's wearing lipstick..." that it's a situation that leaves you feeling "slightly uneasy." I can certainly see how it would...because he looks like a different person. And somewhere in the back of your mind, there could well be the niggling thought (no matter how hard you try to suppress it) that maybe he is different. I am sure this is part of my wife's problem. I hid my CDing from her for many years...mostly because of a chance remark she made shortly after we were married. (I wanted to tell her, but feared her reaction. Remember, this was almost 30 years ago. There was no information. No internet support groups. Nothing...just a lingering memory of visits to a psychiatrist that left me feeling ashamed and guilty. So I kept quiet.) When I finally told her, I told her the truth as best I could, but it came out badly. Now she sees me as this different person...not the person she married. Well, I'm not a different person...but telling her that doesn't change her feelings. She feels I lied to her, so there is a sense that I have somehow violated a trust.
On the other hand, if not telling her about this was a lie, it was a lie of omission. Kept secret because I feared the very reaction I got. In fact, I feared much worse. I feared she would be so angry and so disgusted that not only would the marriage fall apart, but that she would take every opportunity to revenge herself on me by spreading my guilty and disgusting secret among all her friends. How better to avoid having to shoulder any of the blame for a failed marriage? No one would probe any deeper than the obvious: "Poor woman, married to a secret pervert all those years. Well, at least she got the house and half his pension. Serves him right, too. I hope he loses his job."
It could easily have happened that way. Frankly, I was surprised it didn't. So you can see why I kept the secret as long as I did. I don't think I am unusual in this, though as others will point out (quite rightly) the longer you keep the secret, the harder it is on your partner when it finally does come out.
So if I have violated her trust, I accept my share of the blame. But I wish she could understand that I kept this, the deepest, darkest and potentially the most damaging of my secrets, because she had not earned mine. And that is an issue that she will never acknowledge, and a truth, I would be prepared to guarantee, her friends will never hear.
I take comfort in Elizabeth's description of her relationship with Raven (SO). I know (in part) of the struggle she went through to get to this stage in her life. For me, I am still clinging to the hope that my own relationship can somehow be repaired. I know my wife wants this, too. But to bring this rambling letter back to the main point: I fear that there is something "hard wired" into her brain that simply won't let her accept me as I am, now that she knows. In fact, now that I think of it, maybe this inability to accept me as I am lays at the heart of the problems that have plagued the relationship from the beginning. Certainly she has never shied away from letting me know that I am a man of many shortcomings. Maybe that's why I never told her the whole truth. Maybe at some pre-conscious level, she suspected all along.
