"I took away a good woman's chance to live with someone who would love her madly," admits a man who didn't open up to love until he was in his 60s
Can I get straight to the point? When did you first realize you were attracted to men?
I've been aware of that since I was a teenager - although I couldn't admit it for a long time. It was a different time and in my family homosexuality was something unacceptable. My parents would never have understood. When I started to feel differently, I was more ashamed of it than I was of the fact that it was normal. It was a mixture of guilt and fear that haunted me my whole life. I couldn't tell anyone. Not even to myself. I grew up knowing I had to suppress it. My parents put a lot of emphasis on how we look on the outside. Like a perfect family with clear rules. And I knew I didn't fit that image. To this day, when I say the word "gay" or "homosexual," I feel uncomfortable in the back of my head. I know it's stupid, but that's how your upbringing and society affects you.
How did you deal with that feeling? Did it lead you to marry a woman? This feeling of having to live up to the expectations of family and society?
It wasn't something I rationally planned. Marrying a woman seemed to me at the time to be the only possible way to conform to myself and my surroundings. My family had raised me from a young age that everything had to be in order and according to the rules. I was aware from childhood that I didn't have much choice. I wore shirts, cut my hair short, and never allowed myself to "get in trouble" even at puberty. We weren't allowed to be different at home, we weren't allowed to draw attention to ourselves. When I met my ex-wife, it was clear to me that she was a woman I could like and who would hopefully help me fit into the "right" box.
And did it work? Did you find happiness with her, any happiness at all?
At first, I believed I did. I tried to be a good husband to her and a good father to our children. My wife was very kind and understanding, and if I had been different, I could have been really happy with her. But it was more of an inner resignation. Over time, I found that neither marriage nor children could fulfill me as I had hoped. There were times when I felt like something was dying inside me. And I carried that emptiness inside me for years.
Have you ever had the opportunity to try being with a man - even during marriage?
Yes, I've had a few of those secret encounters, but it was always away from home. When I used to go to Prague for work, I sometimes allowed myself to "fly away". But I was always terribly afraid that someone would find out. I was afraid not only for myself, but mainly for my family, for my wife who didn't know about it, for my children who I didn't want to deprive of a peaceful childhood. I felt like a sinner, something forbidden. But at that time I didn't know how to fight it all, so I just buried it further and further.
That must have been hard. What was the impetus that finally led you to divorce?
It was two things. The first was that our children were grown and living their own lives. I didn't have to feel like I was destroying their family by divorcing them. And the second thing was that I was imagining more and more how I would live the rest of my life without true love. My wife and I got along, but it was more friendly feelings than anything deeper. I imagined dying without loving someone the way I always wanted to. And it finally caught up with me. One day I confessed to my wife. I told her I'd lived my whole life with a mask and I couldn't do it anymore. It was the hardest moment of my life, but I felt I couldn't go on.
I'll stop at the words "confess", which carry connotations of guilt. Isn't that a strong statement given the situation?
It's not, because I was guilty. I understand that you are trying to say that being gay is not something I should feel guilty about - and I agree. But I was guilty. I took away a beautiful and worthy woman's opportunity to live a life with someone who would love her madly. I think that's guilty. And I'm sorry.
How did your wife react when you opened up like that?
She was shocked. She couldn't believe it. But ironically - after the initial shock, she was very kind and told me that she never thought of me as anything but a good person. She knew that I had never lied and that I had done everything I could for her and our children all my life. We divorced peacefully. I thank her immensely for that - she had every right to be angry, but she didn't give up on me. She never did.
What about your partner? You said you'd known him for years, but it wasn't until after the divorce that you "checked in" with him. What was it like when you called him?
I still remember that phone call. We've known each other for a long time, we met professionally when I was less than 35. Even then I felt something special for him, but I had my shield, my limitations. I never dared to even hint at how I felt. But when I got divorced and decided to call him, I knew I wanted to give it my all now. When I told him I was divorced and why, he was silent for a while. And then he told me that he'd been waiting for me his whole life. It was... it was like I got a new chance at life. It's a love I've never known. A love that's open and free, the way it should be.
If you could turn back time, would you change anything? How do you feel about today compared to when you were young?
I would probably change the fact that I had the courage to live my life earlier, but I just couldn't do it at that time. We all have our limits, our fears, and family backgrounds that either allow or don't allow us to be who we are. I have had a very difficult time, but at the same time, I have no regrets about having two children that I love and who are treasures to me, whether they are five or thirty-five years old. I'm happy that I finally found true love - even if it's later in life.
And as for today's young people? I envy them, but not in a bad way. They have opportunities that I didn't have, and I wish them never to feel afraid to be themselves. To appreciate what they have and never let it be taken away. Happiness is a gift, and if they find it, let them protect it like I am doing today.
