Captive Freedom

It has been so liberating to be able to give voice to my real self…at least to the limited degree to which I’ve been able to share with friends and loved ones. But, the sad part is, I’m still imprisoned by the deep dark secret that I’m gay.

I can’t tell my aged, deeply religious, extremely conservative mother…it would probably land her on her death-bed.

I can’t tell another close relative…he’s one of the guys who sexually abused me…and I just can’t go there.

I can’t tell other family members and the people I attend church with because they would immediately condemn me to hell…and tell my wife to leave.

I can’t tell the friends I work with…because they have already shown their true colors as bigoted knuckleheads.

So, in the world of mixed emotions, this is a doozy. By keeping this secret I’m both protected…you might say liberated. And, I’m also all boxed in…imprisoned to the fear of rejection, broken relationships, condemnation, etc. So, as long as I keep the secret, I’m safe…but by keeping the secret I’m… Yeah, you get it…it’s such a vicious cycle.

Secrets weight heavily upon on us all. It drives us to unhealthy solitude. It’s lonely here in the secret world. It’s not fun. It lacks direction, because it never sees the light of day. It’s one cause of great sadness and depression. Secrets keep us from experiencing an unconditional love of family and friends.

The writer of this blog eloquently describes this battle. I quote his last paragraph: “I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to hide. I just want to be me. What would it be like, I wonder, to live openly? To not have to be on guard at every moment, lest someone suspect my deep, dark secrets?

I guess for now I’ll just keep it to myself. The risks are just too high. I’ll have to live with my own emotional fallout.

That’s a secret all its own.



Waking Up

Have you ever felt blocked? I’m not talking about writer’s block.

This morning I woke up after nine hours of sleep. Now on one hand, that’s a good thing. I was really tired, and I rested well. But on the other hand, it’s really rare for me to need more than 7 hours of sleep at night. I can even take a 10 minute nap and feel refreshed. I’m sure I’m not that unusual from many of you…for others, 7 hours of sleep is just getting started.

So, now I’m sitting on the couch in the TV room and trying to wake up. But I’ve got this …block…haziness…fog. Blah. I’m thinking about what I have on my to-do list today, tomorrow, next month.

I need more coffee.

In a way, my life feels the same way. I’ve been sleeping for decades. Over the last couple of years I’ve been slowly waking up. In many ways I’ve got this haziness and fog about my current journey. I previously wrote about this in “Numb.”

What I need is some “juice” to get me going.

And not just to get me through the day. I need a dream for 1, 3, 5, 10 years from now. The one thing to make my life feel entirely fulfilled.

I love my family, I enjoy my work…this is something different.

Where does a 49-year old husband, father, grandfather go to build a dream?



By Trevor

She is enough.

Her amazing love is enough…more than enough.

Her patience is enough…more than enough.

Her belief in me is enough…more than enough.

All that she is is enough…more than enough.

I choose her.

Now understand, this is not a declaration of any change in my personal status, sexual identity, or much of anything else.

This is just a simple statement of where my loyalty and commitment resides. It is here…with her.

I’m not walking away. I’m here.

This statement also doesn’t mean that things are going to be easy now. Far from it. It’s still going to be one day at a time…baby steps. Tormented mind. Broken heart. Sexual urges. Everything else. No matter all that.

She is enough. More than enough.


Who Are You?

One question.

Simple, but not simplistic.

Direct, yet open-ended.

I think, if so limited, this would be the one question I would ask someone to determine if I could be friends with them. I enjoy hearing other people’s life stories. As they tell their stories, I get to know them. Empathetic and sympathetic discoveries are made with my hearing. Of course, it is all dependent upon if the person goes past an “I’m Joe Blow” response. And it is similarly dependent upon my ability to be open and interested in hearing them out.

If someone wants to be my friend and I sense they are sincere on really hearing about the real me, I’ll tell them in the hope of gaining a new friend. Then the ball is in their court.

By reading my blog posts, you can hear me tell my stories, and in that sense I’m telling you who I am.

So…who are you?


This blog sparked this post.


Life is full of seasonal changes. This blog asks about our experiences during Autumn. There are many.

My wife has this favorite coffee that she can only get this time of year. She expectantly starts talking about it and looking for it weeks in advance of it’s expected arrival on the store shelf. Her face is aglow with excitement when she brews and indulges in the first cup of the season. She is in coffee heaven!

On a more abstract level, our lives encounter many difference seasons and changes.

My marriage is experiencing the hot and dry days of a summer season. There are occasional showers that bring relief, but generally we are longing for Autumn as a time of hauling away the dead stuff that we are cutting through and eventually a Spring that will usher in a whole new time of healthy growth.

I admit that I tend to be too pessimistic, which causes me to miss out on and enjoy some of the simple things of life.

I think I’ll ask her if she would like to share a cup of coffee.


Say What??

Have you ever heard your recorded voice talking back to you? I have…it’s kinda odd. There are reasons why that is so…it has something to do with the way the sound waves interact with your ear drum and vibrations through the skull…yeah – you can Google it for yourself. At any rate, we think we sound different than what we really do.

Have you ever had a conversation with someone and thought that they didn’t know how they sounded?

Like the racist relative…the workmate that has nothing positive to say about anything…the person who continually rehashes their perspective on what’s wrong with the world…the person who continually wants to rule everyone else’s world…the bigot…the braggart…the hypocrite…the judgmental religious zealot…etc. We hope they don’t realize how bad they sound. We cringe, we are embarrassed for them. We apologize to those who may have stepped into the path of the vitriol. We sigh and chalk it up to the way they are. It seems hopeless that they will ever change.

These people are real big downers. I call them happy suckers…they suck the happy out of whatever space on this planet that they happen to be occupying at any given moment. You find yourself trying to avoid them, biting your tongue to a bloody pulp, or popping pills to fight the stress headache they create.

When they start in with all their crap, you just want to say…”Say what?? Really?!?”

Most often, I want to say to them – “Excuse me. Do you realize your stupid is showing?”