I am Amanda, I am now 40 years old and I am finally happy. I met my wife Francesca at a conference, five years ago, after I had divorced my husband.
I knew since I was a kid that I liked girls. At early ages I was inviting my friends to my place and we would play „husband and wife.” I was the husband, imitating the life of grown-ups. To some point we would mime sexual interaction. I grew up confused. I knew I liked girls, but my mom was constantly telling me that it wasn’t true. I did not have the courage to get a grasp of reality and I continued living in a blur.
In my twenties I did not attend parties, have one night stands, boyfriends or girlfriends. I focused on my career, and avoided to reveal my sexuality, even to myself. At some point I thought that my sexuality would jeopardize my career, the only thing that I was living for. Sometimes I would get in my car and drive in front of lesbian bars and watch, like a poor child looking at candies through the window of a candy-shop.
At 30 I was having an ascending career, an apartment, a car, and a good financial situation. But my heart was a mess. I was denying it. I continued on believing that coming out would destroy my life. So I met Matt, a lawyer in his 30s, a pale face, insensitive and apathetic. We went on few dates where he would talk about his work and I would stare into a void. After few months of barely seeing each other we got married. We were both absorbed by our jobs and that was working for me. He would come home late, tired and indisposed.
My life was a wreck and I was hiding it so well. I found little things to enjoy. I remember about this neighbor of ours, an artist. She was living alone and every night she would stay on the front porch of her house, sipping coffee and smoking cigarettes. It was then when I started to smoke, and every night I would go on the front porch smoking and watching her. We waved at each other, and introduced ourselves. My sole joy in life was spending time on the front porch, smoking cigarettes and admiring this beautiful and mysterious woman. It kept me moving on for a while, but in six months I divorced Matt.
When I told my mom about it she lost her words. Then, I finally allowed myself to live. “Mom, I sacrificed my life for a career, I married a man just to show you I cannot be happy near a man, I gave up my life in the hope you will notice that I was slowly dying,” I told mom. “I am gay, don’t I deserve to be happy?”
Mom burst in tears and hugged me. “I am sorry, I hope you will be happy from now on.”
That day I was reborn, I gained my freedom, my right to love and to be happy. But it took away years from my life, tears and hope.
Now I am happy, Francesca showed me how to be joyful, how to get over the trauma, she mended my scars and patiently went through my healing.
It is never too late to be happy.