Husband Caught With Another Man

Husband Caught With Another Man

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What would lead a happily married man to have gay relationship with another man?

My name is Hannah. I have been married for four years now with a girl to show for it but presently, I have a disturbing problem that could tear my marriage apart. My husband, Uzor, used to be the best man any woman can ever hope to live with for the rest of her life.

But that was before his business ran aground after the Nigerian Customs seized his goods at the Port and since then, life has been very difficult for us, with me being the bread winner of the family from my little trade business. It got so bad that he even attempted suicide once but for the grace of God.

Then a friend of his linked him up to a guy based in China who promised to help him start up all over again. I did not know the terms of their business partnership but when the man came into the country, things seemed to pick up but that also came with Uzor's change in attitude.

He had brought the guy home to introduce him and at first look, I found something odd with the man. He behaved and acted in an effeminate sort of way but since he was going to help my husband, I did not attach anything to it.

Uzor started keeping late nights, lost interest in sex and seemed to always be in the company of the man. I thought he was having affairs with some woman but since I had no evidence, I could not confront him.

You can then imagine my surprise when I came home unexpectedly from the shop to catch my husband with the man right on our matrimonial bed having

I was so shocked that I passed out and when I came to, I was in the hospital. Instead of Uzor being sober and asking for forgiveness, he has even told me I have to accept the fact of what i saw as the man is the key to his breakthrough or I should pack out of his house.

He seems very happy having the man as his gay partner and does not care what happens to our marriage.

Dear readers, on Morning Teaser today, we ask: what would you do if you caught your spouse engaging in gay sex?

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Part of HuffPost Personal. ©2022 BuzzFeed, Inc. All rights reserved.
"I had no idea what a mixed-orientation marriage was ... until I suddenly found myself in one."
Sep 1, 2021, 09:00 AM EDT | Updated May 26, 2022
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Part of HuffPost Personal. ©2022 BuzzFeed, Inc. All rights reserved.
I stood at the edge of the pool with my toes gripping the cold stone. Treading water, my husband Stuart smiled encouragingly, patiently. We had been married for 27 years, and for most of that time, he understood that I just did not like being in the pool.
For most summers when our children were young, we belonged to the neighborhood swim club. I would sit by the side of the pool, maybe dangle my feet in it, or slowly wade in on occasion to play with the kids. I made sure my children took swim lessons, and that they could fearlessly, joyfully cannonball off the diving board and splash with their friends while I cheered from the sidelines. Yet I never joined in.
But there was something about this night. It was warm, and our Airbnb had an amazing pool with views of the Napa Valley hills and vineyards. I felt a sense of closeness and trust with my husband ― this weekend was a celebration of sorts for the last 18 months of work we’d put into our relationship, as we tried to build back intimacy after our marriage had essentially burned to the ground.
Just before the holidays in 2017, I was convinced that my husband was in the throes of a midlife crisis, and I discovered he was having an affair. It was very much the classic middle-class suburban cliche, except for the twist that he was cheating on me with another man.
While we raised our children with the understanding that love is love (so much so that they both felt the need to come out to us as straight), I did not ever imagine the queer person in the family would be my husband. The weeks after the revelation were gut-wrenching, confusing and sad ― but also beautiful.
Stuart had assumed that when I discovered his affair, I would leave him and he would lose his kids, his friends, his community ― everything. But I watched this man I had loved over half my life, and I saw that he was filled with shame, confusion and pain. So I made the choice to figure out our way forward with him.
I had no idea what a mixed-orientation marriage was ― where one spouse identifies as queer and the other identifies as straight ― until I suddenly found myself in one. Stuart didn’t even know about the Kinsey scale of sexuality , which approaches sexuality as a spectrum, and he had no clue how he identified. Because there was so much to discover and try to understand, we decided he needed space to date, to find out if he was gay or some other orientation, and to learn exactly what this meant for him ― and for us.
“I decided that if he was gay, I could be his best friend ex-wife and we could have this big gay family. I helped create his online dating profile, took sexy pictures of him to upload, and sent him advice articles on gay relationships.”
In between bouts of crying in the shower, sleepless nights and reading every self-help book sold on Amazon, I decided that if Stuart was gay, I could be his best friend ex-wife and we could have this big gay family. I helped create his online dating profile, took sexy pictures of him to upload, and sent him advice articles on gay relationships. In February 2018, Stuart took off his wedding ring and gave it to me for safekeeping. Then he semi-moved to a larger, nearby city to explore.
I knew I was risking my marriage, but in truth, the marriage I’d had was already over. I had to make the decision that I loved Stuart more than I loved our marriage ― that this whole endeavor had to be about finding happiness, and not simply saving the marriage. But more importantly, and much harder, I had to do the work so I could honestly say that I loved myself more than I loved our marriage. This was not the case as I helped Stuart pack his suitcase.
I always knew I was smart, but when it came to how I felt about myself in general, my self-esteem was in the crapper (even more so since learning my husband was having sex with a 25-year-old ex-model). I’d sought self-worth through an overabundance of co-dependency. So while Stuart dated, I got to work on myself. His infidelity wasn’t just about his sexuality; it fed right into my own childhood traumas of not feeling loved or being good enough. I had so many fears ― of being abandoned, of being lied to, of being judged, of being a martyr.
I started a new regimen of meditation, self-help books and readings on Buddhism. I also began a daily exercise routine and a more serious yoga practice. I often credit yoga with saving my life. No matter how bad a day I was having, or how big a screaming match I’d had with Stuart, I could get on the mat and get out of my head. And yes, of course, I was in therapy (with Stuart and also on my own). Little by little, I began to break down my armor and explore some of the origins of my issues. I began to love myself, and I began to work through my own shit. But let me tell you: This is not work for the faint of heart. This has been the hardest thing I have ever done.
By the middle of the year, Stuart had determined that he was bisexual and that he wanted to stay married to me, but he wanted an open marriage so he could also have a boyfriend. To make this work, to really create the space for a boyfriend and how overwhelmingly threatening that felt to me, we created an ethical non-monogamy marriage agreement, with lots of rules, including when and how frequently they could see each other, texting times, and other expectations. I wanted Stuart to be able to take this chance, but I also wanted our marriage to not just survive but flourish. We didn’t know if it was possible, but we wanted to try.
So that’s what we did ― and we agreed that we were going to really prioritize our couple time and make sure our marriage came first. That meant everything from planning date nights and having more sex to creating new daily practices to increase the communication, honesty and vulnerability in our relationship.
At times, we felt like we were working at warp speed ― simultaneously working on ourselves, our relationship and Stuart’s burgeoning understanding of his sexuality. His therapist described the conditions we were living under, and what we were trying to achieve, as a “powder keg.” And things did occasionally blow up: Either Stuart’s shame or my fear could cause things to ignite. When we both spiraled, there were some epic arguments. But on the whole, we really tried to support one another as w
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