Falling Into Life: A Gay Exmormon’s Journey

Chapter Twenty-Three – A Completed Marriage: How We Co-Parent

One thing that irritates the hell out of me is when Mormons and Christians tell me we “failed”, that we have a “failed marriage”. They say we have a “broken home”…

You know what I say? Screw you! There’s not a thing broken about the way we manage our family and choose to live our lives. I say now that we have a *completed marriage*, because it *is* completed, and we chose to end it maturely, and to place our focus squarely on our kids. This is how we did it.

As our marriage was disintegrating, we both had the maturity to begin speaking about what was best for our kids. We have some friends who have remained married although he came out as gay. But they had been married for twenty years or more, and they really cared about each other. They stayed married so she could maintain health benefits, and other such things that she would have lost if they divorced. Now he’s in a long-term gay relationship and they *all* get together for dinners, life events, and companionship. It works for them.

If my Ex and I were to have divorced immediately, it would have impacted her financially in such a way that it would have been devastating. I didn’t leave the marriage to *be* with another person, and neither did she. And I cared about her, and didn’t want her to feel unsupported or alone. So we stayed married for four years after we separated, and we did everything to ensure that the kids were as disaffected as possible. We saw that we could work together to make a calm transition, one that would allow our kids to gain strength, confidence, and love even though we were separating and experiencing massive change.

First, we created a list of Ground Rules that we both agreed to never breach. This happened the first week I left. Our ground rules looked something like this:

1. The shared home is dedicated to the kids; therefore the parents will pack clothing to use while away. Never expect the kids to accommodate to our new lives. The parents move in and out of the home, the kids stay put throughout the parental transitions.
2. Never speak poorly or negatively about the other parent in front of the kids. EVER.
3. Always communicate with the other parent BEFORE making ANY decision that would impact the family as a whole.
4. Uphold agreements made with the other parent at all times. This includes scheduled parenting times, scheduled activities, everything.
5. Do not be late when you are in charge, remember to contact the other parent if a situation arises that would impact their schedule as well.
6. Put the kid’s interests before any other personal interest, such as dating.

We had created almost an entire page of requirements that we each obeyed. If we had any changes in schedules, we never hesitated to call the other parent. We moved from being married partners to being close friends who shared kids. It was really tough at times to have to face her on some days, and I’m sure it was the same both ways, but we *never* broke our promises to each other.

I did not make a mistake in who I married; my Ex is a reliable, wonderful, mature, professional woman. She is kind, caring, thoughtful, and always there with a smile when we interact. When we’d be in transition state, we were always respectful, never angry or overly upset. I loved this woman, and she’s the mother of my kids, and I am thankful for that.

Money was a tough issue at first, and for more than a year, I paid almost twice more than child care costs would eventually be given my salary. I did it because I did not want her to suffer, if she were to suffer, certainly my kids would, too. And I just kept my eye on the prize: We are raising happy, healthy, independent kids. If she’s in pain, they’re going to feel it. So for a period of a few years we faced some extremely tough situations.

One of the toughest was that the legal system does *not* work with mature people. The legal system reinforces marriages to *explode* and crash and burn. We did everything we could not to do that. For example, after I met Rex and we decided to live together, I no longer slept over at the kid’s house. There were times when she slept upstairs and I slept downstairs. Legally this meant that I was able to meet the state requirements for 50% custody, because the legal system only counts where you actually *sleep*, they do not count the hours you spend with your kids.

We agreed that on my weekdays, I would get the kids settled in bed, and then I would drive to be with Rex and she’d be there during those nights. Legally this meant that I had abandoned my children. During those years before we were divorced, I had to trust that things wouldn’t go haywire, she could have decided at any moment to take me to court and claim abandonment. It was very unsettling, but we trusted in each other implicitly, and we never broke our agreements. Just about *everyone* we knew who found out about our plan warned us about impending doom, “What is he/she doesn’t follow through? You are leaving yourself open for harm!” We didn’t listen. We hung tight.

We knew we needed each other. She never took the road so many women do attacking me, trying to show how deranged I had *become* like all my other Evergreen friend’s wives had done, limiting if not canceling their visitations. She went back to get a masters degree in Counseling while I had them in my care. I continued working and paying my share, I never faltered even one child care payment. She graduated and got a self-sustaining job that would provide her a good retirement plan.

Coming out to my kids was very nerve-wracking. I was literally scared to death. About three weeks after we separated I had gathered my ideas, bounced them off my Ex, and some friends. I could *not* fail, I had to have their love their and support. I had to be calm, and poised. I had to make sure they *knew* that no matter *what* I experienced in life, they were my top priorities, my number ones. And I was foolish to have ever doubted their caring or love for me.

I caught my oldest son between cartoon breaks. I asked if I could talk to him for a few minutes, I grabbed a chair nearby and I started in. I basically told him that his mom and I had problems staying together, as he knew already, but the main reason was because I was gay. I held my breath. I asked if he knew what that meant, and he said he did. I reiterated that I cared deeply for his mom but it was something that I had tried to change for years and that I couldn’t make it change. After that I moved into the positives.

First I told him that I would *always* be his dad, and that there was no way he was ever getting rid of me. I would be there every step of his life journey until I dropped dead, and that wouldn’t be for a long time, hopefully. I told him that I wanted him to love me forever, that I needed his love. He hugged me. I cried.

Then I asked if he had any friends who might have a gay parent. He said he did, he had two of them. I told him that he wasn’t alone, he had friends who understood. Then I told him that I wanted this to be a “non-issue” in his life although it might seem at first to be strange. I told him that he would never come home to find someone he didn’t know, that he could always come home with friends, or anyone and I’d never surprise him with anything out of the ordinary. I told him he could count on that.

Then I told him that he had the power in his court. He could tell whomever he wanted, he could keep it from anyone he wanted, that it was all up to him. He seemed to like that; he sat up a little taller. I told him that I would only tell the kid’s parents whom he wanted me to. I told him that we had no need to tell anyone at his school, and so it was all up to him who might know. The *only* people who fucked up our plan were his teachers and counselors at school.

He was in middle school at the time grade 6, I think. He’s never been one to get the grades, and my Ex and I harp on that kid continually. He was having dipping grades during his 7^th grade year. This is a recurring theme in his life, at least three times during the year his grades dip, and then he rescues them. It’s the bane of his parent’s existence. During that moment, his counselor called him into her office, sat him down and said, “You seem to be having trouble with your grades, is this because your dad is gay?”

My son was horrified. He had no idea the teachers knew anything, and neither did we. Not only that, but this counselor did *not* call his mom or myself before she decided to kill our entire plan. He ran out of her office, embarrassed and upset. When I found out, Rex was ready to have her fired, my Ex was writing a huge letter for this woman, and I was sick to my stomach. What amazed me most was that she actually assumed she had the *right* to do such a thing! Did she do this with kids whose parents were rumored to be alcoholics? Or drug addicts? Of *course* not! After all was said and done, this woman was lucky she kept her job, she had three *irate* parents in her face.

My daughter’s case was easier; she was younger and she was following my oldest son’s example, she witnessed us hug as she came into the room. The only issue she’s experienced was in 6^th grade a friend of hers and she had a falling out, and so in mean girl fashion, that girl went and told her entire class that her dad “was a fag”. The fallout was tough, the girls said nothing but all the boys, one by one, ran up to her on recess and shouted, “Your dad’s a fag!” She seemed to weather that OK until one boy, who seemed to need to run up every single day and shout it.

My daughter was beside herself, and in tears confided what was happening to my Ex. Her mom responded that we weren’t embarrassed about our family, and so they’d have to come up with a plan to stop the daily barrage. She alluded to the fact that most people who seem the maddest about gay people might be gay themselves.

By the next day my daughter had emotionally moved from humiliation to anger! When this boy ran up and screamed it once again, she grabbed his shirt when he tried to run away. He fell in the gravel, but she held tight. As he stood up, she faced him and said, “Do you know that 10% of people are gay?” He looked stunned. Then she said, “And you might be one!” That was it; he never said another word to her.

My youngest son, who is seven now, will undoubtedly face tough days ahead with it. But the funniest moment with him so far was when he sauntered up to me one night while I was on the computer and asked, “Daddy? Why don’t we have any more mommies around here?” I looked at him and said, “Well…your daddy’s gay, and he lives with Rex. So I won’t be bringing another mommy into the mix. I like guys. And your mom’s straight, she likes guys, too. That means that if anything else changes around here, you’re gonna get *another* daddy. One mommy, three daddies.” He looked at me quizzically, shrugged his shoulders and meandered off.

Although things have changed for us, things in my kid’s lives have become monumentally more exciting and better. We’ve had so much fun vacationing in places like San Diego, California and Captiva Island, Florida, to name a few outings we’ve taken together. My kids have gained three new step siblings, they’ve never fought one time, and they are treated extremely well. They are doted upon by not two, but three caring parents. Life is good.

After four years, my Ex and I finally ended it in March of 2008. We filled out our own paperwork, we calmed walked in front of the judge and in the most mature fashion possible, quietly divorced. The judge lauded us; he simply couldn’t believe we had accomplished what we have. He thanked us for being so “together” and mature. She and I walked into the hall, shook hands, laughed and went on with our days.

I’m going to keep seeing her the rest of my life, most likely. She looks forward to dancing with me on our kid’s wedding days, so she tells me. We can laugh together, and share life stories, too. We’re moving on, but we’ve done it with dignity. We married, we divorced, and we are better off for having done it.

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