This morning, as soon as I woke up, the image of this rock popped into my mind, and then a vision of Jennifer and I on The Knob in Cape Cod on our wedding day. You see, The Knob is a park, and though many people decide to get married there, doing so may mean that a random stranger walks up and watches you get married, which in our case is precisely what happened. And though I never saw them (I was facing the opposite direction) they politely and quietly left a gift there before they walked away.
A painted multicolored rock that said simply, “Inspire.”
Is that a sign from God or what?
So, about three and half months into our new state of happily-ever-after bliss, I guess my spirit guides have decided it’s time for me to tell the world just how special this love is.
When I met Jennifer, I was a married woman. I had never even looked at another woman in that way before, had never thought of myself as anything but straight as an arrow.
Long ago, at age 20, I met the man who would become my husband. I was stretching outside of the karate room at what was called Stegman gym back then, on the UGA campus where I was a sophomore. A handsome older guy entered the door at the opposite end of the gymnasium and I felt an electric surge in that moment, as if to say - notice him Heather - this is going to be important.
I would soon learn that his name was Hal, that he was 43 years old, and that he had a girlfriend who was by that point kinda becoming a friend of mine. She had taken me under her wing to teach me all about Tae Kwon Do, probably because I showed over and over again that I really wanted to learn.
One day, on my 21st birthday, she left home to go for a conference, told me to go over to her house where Hal was staying for the weekend, and gave me instructions to drink the bottle of champagne she’d left, and to not drive anywhere after the fact.
Looking back now, it was a total messy set-up. But one that was meant to be. After that night of pizza eaten slowly, glasses of champagne, and hours of talking, Hal and I were together, and married 4 years later. We have had years of experiences together, and at some point after the birth of our daughter eight years into our relationship, we began growing apart. I got my master’s degree the same year he lost his business, and we fought and argued and created even more stress for ourselves. There was no one point that the being in love part was over, rather it was a gradual decline until we both realized we were pretending.
Nevertheless, when I met Jennifer, I told her up front that I had no idea what I was doing and that I was a package deal. I had Hal and I had my daughter. I had come from a single-parent home and Hal from a military family so his dad was gone for most of his childhood. He and I had made a solemn vow to always put our baby girl first - her needs were what mattered above all else.
Jennifer and I had a rocky start (pun intended). She was also married and in a situation where she loved him but the being in love part had vanished. She did not have a child, but she had equally difficult reasons that complicated her life, and it wasn’t clear that she and I needed to do what we were thinking of doing, which of course was falling in love.
I have read Corinthians many times, and I feel like the part about love should have begun with Love is MESSY, instead of Love is Patient. Or maybe it could have said Love is Messy and if you can be patient and kind to each other in the process, you won’t kill the love.
Because that is the truth right there.
I was worried about being seen as gay. I was worried about not feeling gay. I thought my dad (and maybe the rest of my family) would never approve or that he would stop loving me if I told him I had fallen for a woman. Better yet, because I couldn’t wrap my brain around what was happening to me and why, I felt the only way forward was to keep the love a secret.
But to Hal, I was honest. He never got angry, he never became possessive, and he never let on that his ego was hurt that I’d fallen for someone else either, because it wasn’t. It was a natural parting of the sea of our love, and we just had to learn to navigate these new waters.
I’d told Jennifer that Sarah couldn’t go back and forth between households, and that since Hal was so much older than me, I thought that taking her away from him for half the time was criminal. I had not convinced that man to have a child with me to only rip her from his arms later.
So Hal and I stayed married in separate bedrooms, and Jennifer joined us on the weekends for years until finally on 10/27/17, she moved in full time. Because she and I worked on separate shifts, we each had our own bedroom. Try explaining that to anyone...we couldn’t. She told her family and tried to answer their questions. Her parents indicated their love for her and their desire for her to be happy no matter what.
Eventually I figured out how to cry it out and confront the legal process of divorce. Hal and I paid for the contract online and went to court together. We showed the judge our daughter’s savings account statement and told her that we didn’t want to deal with child support. That there would be no custody arrangement, because we were both her parents and she would live with us both until she went off to college. We were able to get the no child support agreement but still had to specify a custody arrangement “just in case” the judge said, “things aren’t always this good.” The Judge (hilariously) made us swear in court that we had separate bedrooms and were no longer doing the deed. She praised us profusely on the day of our divorce, for showing that being not in love anymore didn’t have to mean not loving at all. After court, Hal and I went for a lunch date and then he took me to the tire store and bought 4 new tires for my car. I’ll never forget that day, how gentle and warm the tears were as they floated down my cheeks - how on some level I felt like a complete failure and on another level I felt like I had finally grown strong enough to say what I really needed even if it meant pain for myself and him.
In the nearly 2 years that followed after my divorce, I continued to show both Hal and Jennifer that I loved each one of them. We went on vacations together, I cooked them dinners, and Jennifer and I took care to not display affection for each other beyond a hug or a pat here and there in front of Hal. He and I had also shared a great love affair at one time and I will always want to show respect for that, and for him.
Jennifer and I hid our love in other places too. Because we had met in the ER we both worked at, we didn’t tell very many people at all. Looking back, we were probably the worst kept secret in town, and despite our rarely validating anyone’s suspicions, we only acknowledged being super close friends to anyone outside the most intimate inner circle, or those who’d guessed and just flat out asked us. Those guys were sworn to secrecy.
The ER was a marvelous place to learn about love. I was witness to so many moments that mattered at the end of a life. The final goodbyes from families to their loved one were hard to watch. Being around so much trauma and death for so long really makes you ask yourself: Am I really living? Am I aligned with my purpose?
Finally, a knowing deep down in my heart began to emerge. I had to marry Jennifer. It was a soul contract. To face my fears about who I was and who I could no longer be. To give her the love and validation she deserved, and to stand out in the light with her and not care about what judgements may come my way.
The hardest one of all to tell was my father.
When my mother abandoned me at 18 months old, my father had stood by, fought her for custody, and decided even at his super young age of 22, that with his mama’s help, he could raise a child on his own. He worked up to 3 jobs at a time to support us.
I had barely talked to him since Jennifer had come into my life. Don’t get me wrong, we did things together and we chatted, and he had ample time with his grandchild, but I didn’t really TALK to him. About me. About who I was becoming. About who I loved. And when Dad confronted me about her, I lied to him. I told him he’d gotten it wrong. My fear of the things he would say to me kept me from being ME. It kept me from being honest. And if you’re dishonest long enough, it can make you into someone you’re not.
I proposed to her right in our office inside the ER, where our long talks had begun. 111 days later I married her on the Cape, with Hal and Sarah and my cousins and a childhood friend nearby. Before we left for the 2-day drive to the Cape, I dropped a five page letter to my father in the mail. In it, I was finally honest with him. I acknowledged that my dishonesty and fear had enabled this great divide between us, and that now going forward, if he could forgive me, I just wanted to be his daughter and I wanted him to just be my dad. I knew he may never approve of my choice, but I explained to him that I had loved Hal deeply and that I loved Jennifer too, and that her love had always been too powerful a love to turn away from.
Remarkably, Dad and I are great. He had a lot to process and I cried many tears over our first lunch after I’d come home, shiny new wedding band on my finger.
So, my lovely wife and I live with my ex-husband (and bff) and our daughter. Our daughter has known Jennifer since she was 5, and considers her to be mom #2. We are one family, and we make a commitment to each other every day to be there for each other and to love each other. For example, the other night Hal’s back was killing him, and it took me no time at all to rub the knot out. He felt better, I got to be kind and loving, and Jennifer happily teased, I’m next. There is no jealousy or fear or resentment in this house. Love is love.
Love must be honest, upfront, and obvious. No more hiding for me, and if reading about my soul-searching journey to the heart of what really matters helps you, then I am glad to have shared this with everyone.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
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