There’s never really a good time to blow up your marriage.
That was one of the many thoughts I had while sitting in the bathtub, replaying every decision that had brought me here.
It started with a dream. Maybe the best way to describe it is a soft, wet dream. It came a few months after I’d finally gotten birth control out of my body, the first time in a decade I wasn’t on hormones or trying to get pregnant. My body felt free. My hormones felt ready to stretch, to speak, to unmute.
And then came the dream.
It was about a woman. The kind of dream that pulsed with sexual tension, magnetic and undeniable. I woke up charged, shaken, and full of questions. The feelings only grew from there.
I didn’t understand what was happening. I knew I wasn’t about to blow up my marriage on a hunch that I might be gay, but I also wasn’t ready to talk about it. I felt like a fraud, like maybe the life I had built wasn’t fully mine. I needed answers, and there was only one way to get them.
So I kissed a girl.
And then I told Derek, my husband.
It wasn’t done maliciously, and I’m not here to justify my behavior. But the truth is: I felt like I couldn’t even say the words out loud unless I had proof. Unless I had something real to point to.
If I could go back, I’m not sure I’d do it differently. Because in my bones, I believe everything unfolded the way it was supposed to. But that kiss was only the beginning the start of a long, intense, emotional journey between two people who had once made vows, but who also knew, deep down, what this realization could mean for our future.
Having this kind of awakening when you’re married with children is not something I’d wish on anyone. It’s complicated in ways I can’t fully describe. You’re trying to untangle your own identity while also communicating every piece of it to someone who loves you deeply. It’s impossible to do without breaking hearts… including your own.
I’m an action-oriented person. When I get an idea, I move on it immediately. But in this situation, I had to learn restraint. For me, the questions and feelings were loud, urgent, demanding answers. For Derek, it was breaking news. He needed time to catch up.
That first year felt like moving at a snail’s pace. Conversations on repeat. Endless buildup. No resolution. The questions in my head only got louder, more desperate. The waiting became unbearable, for both of us.
Until one day, he finally said the words I had been aching to hear:
“Im ready for you to explore this.”
Thanks for sharing something so personal