On a night just before we left the pub, we had a party with a live band. The place was packed, including my partner's family. Towards the end of the evening, I went on the mic to thank everyone for their support and custom over the years, and that my partner and I were looking forward to starting a new life together. The next day, my partner was summoned to his gran's house. She was furious, not that he was gay, but because he hadn't told her.
With the pub sold, we flew to the Dominican Republic for a holiday. It was late November. I sat on the beach in the mornings, writing Christmas cards, and putting a note into each branch of the family, coming out and telling them of my new relationship. Fortunately, all but one were supportive, and even they eventually came round.
We moved to the South coast and rented a bungalow for a year, until we found our forever home. It wasn't long before my sexual energy got the better of me. At my insistence, we met other guys and went to sex parties, even though I knew my partner was uneasy about it. When he stopped doing it, I went behind his back to have sex with other men. Writing it now makes me feel shameful, but I always excused myself, blaming my high libido. Time and again, I'd be caught out. I'd say sorry, and promise to change my ways. I never did.
In 2005, the UK government granted gay people the right to a Civil Partnership. Marriage in all but name. We were at Brighton Pride and proposed to each other. The following year, we committed ourselves in front of 150 guests, including my ex-in-laws. It didn't stop me from misbehaving, and when I retired it became easier. It was not until I was in my mid-seventies, and in the last chance saloon, that I finally came to my senses.
We have been through some turbulent times. Apart from my philandering, my husband has depression, bordering on bipolar, he tried to take his own life on several occasions. His Mum got cancer, and after each operation, we nursed her through convalescence, until she died at 61. Despite it being inevitable, it hit my partner hard, and he has never truly recovered.
But here we are, over 30 years later, still together through the ups and downs. Like most married couples, we love each other dearly, and sometimes infuriate the other.
My brutally honest true story.
