Gay caught

This article originally appeared on VICE Netherlands

My father is a Frenchman who moved to the Netherlands 24 years ago to raise a family with my mother.

When I was 7 years old, we were spending time at the hotel pool on a family vacation. In February 2018, Stuart took off his wedding ring and gave it to me for safekeeping.

But one night, while he was on the phone to his sister, my little brother had crawled out of bed. After a short bit, Hank turns to see what might happen, but the arrival of another gentleman gives him fright and he leaves quickly. I’m happy that’s changed. I can remember the moment he showed me a picture of his partner.

After the divorce, and following therapy and him reading many books on the subject, he decided to go on a dating site to meet men with whom he could share his story. Until one day he told her the truth – an experience he had found easier than having to tell his children. On the screen appeared a picture of a handsome man, sitting in a cafe.

But on the whole, we really tried to support one another as we tried to become better versions of ourselves.

There is a Buddhist expression: “No mud, no lotus.” For the exquisite lotus flower to bloom, it has to rise from the deep, dark muck. One week my brother and I, along with our dog, would live with my father, the next we would be with my mother.

I often credit yoga with saving my life.

As I told Stuart this story, I saw he had tears in his eyes.

The news hit me hard – I couldn’t understand it at all. At 54, I can happily admit that I love casual sex. He’s tasted the forbidden fruit and even though he tried to push it aside and return to his wife, he cannot ignore the appeal.