He moved to the city and now hes gay

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Teresa Leggett. It has been edited for length and clarity. Every year, when I dance in Sydney's Mardi Gras parade with my ex-husbandhis new husband, and people in the LGBTQ social group I cofounded, I always think back to the year-old woman who realized she married a gay man.

Amid my initial anguish and even anger, I couldn't have imagined that two decades later, my then-husband's coming out would save both of us and help us find our purposes. Michael and I got married when I was 21, and our marriage lasted a decade — eight years of which were very happy.

In our ninth year, I went out to meet his new friends. As the night progressed, it was clear one of Michael's new male friends became very angry and emotional. I looked at him and then at Michael. It was the behavior of someone who felt emotionally betrayed. Suddenly, I had this sinking feeling.

That night, I asked Michael outright if he was gay. He repeatedly denied it. Despite his consistent denials, I felt sadness and anger. Our future was so intertwined. Then the day finally came when he could no longer ignore the truth behind what my intuition had told me. Michael came home late and was sobbing.

The LGBTQ People Leaving London and Other Cities

When he could get the words out, he finally said he was gay — the relief he must've felt. He'd put up such a fight, even after I'd already accepted it. We fell asleep on our marital bed, crying and clutching each other. He later admitted he'd been sitting in his car deliberating for hours whether it'd be an easier route for him to take his own life.

In his eyes, he would lose everything, he said — his wife, his parents, his friends, and his career in the police force and the army. We then had to decide what to do next. Michael was determined to keep his vows to me, saying even though he was gay, he didn't need to act on it.

I didn't want that for him. I was still terrified the shame and loss he was feeling would overcome him. I've adored Mardi Gras since I was a child. One magical night a year, all the repression, fear, and negativity is shaken off and the community roars, "I am here. This is me.

But I was hell-bent on taking him. I remember saying to Michael: "You feel so isolated. You think it's better to be dead than be gay — and look! This is your community. They're waiting for you. And they're all celebrating how wonderful it is to be gay.

After seeing the power of Mardi Gras, I couldn't stay away.