My Bisexual Shame Hurt Someone I Love
It’s become clear to me that I have more work to do… on myself.
Recently, I got slapped upside the head with a disquieting realization:
I’ve been toting around a sticky lump of unresolved shame.
Unlike a lot of queer folks, I haven’t suffered lingering shame or confusion or personal turmoil over my sexual attraction to persons of the same sex. After getting past the initial denial phase, I quickly accepted that essential part of myself… if not always publicly, at least in my heart of hearts.
If I had any shame or guilt around my non-normative identity and queer nature, it had to do with being dishonest with others… especially my wife (now my ex) and children. My self-recrimination was never about my bisexuality itself, or what my persistent, undeniable need for same-sex intimacy compelled me to do in the shadows.
Or, so I believed… until, as I said, recently.
Previous assumptions…
Since coming out for good some 14 years ago, I’ve been operating under certain assumptions: that revealing my whole, complete self, confessing to my transgressions outside marriage, making amends, and pledging a solemn oath to total honesty entitled me to a deep, cleansing breath and a hardy…
