Again, these thoughts shot through me as I watched my own family. And how happy they were with each other. Knowing what I was about to do to my husband. To my family. He was thrilled that Mattie came to him, came out to him, wondering if she had a girlfriend. When she said she didn’t, he said, “There’s plenty of time. Maybe you’ll meet someone at Cornell. The way I met someone at Penn.” The knife slid into me at his words.
“Tim, I’m gay.”
He turned from Mattie to me.
“I’m sorry. What?”
“Please sit. Both of you.” Mattie was by me. He was again across.
“I’m gay.”
He was confused. “You can’t be. Maybe bi?”
Mattie got up and sat at an armchair she pulled so she was the same distance from each of us.
“No, honey. I mean gay?”
And it went on. I told my husband that I knew I was gay when I was a bit younger than Mattie. That I knew it when we got married. That I’ve always known it.
His lawyer’s brain was processing this and beginning to understand.