Thank you for asking this question.  Truly.

First off, I want to say that there is no singular answer for why someone has an affair, whether they’re gay, straight, or something else.  I think you’re right that talking with your ex-wife would probably answer your specific questions more completely, and I encourage you to do that as soon as you feel comfortable.

That said, here’s what I have experienced:

The short answer:

It’s not as though there’s a chapter in the lesbian play-book about how to snare yourself a straight man for the purposes of procreating.  It would be much easier and cheaper to go to the sperm bank.

The long answer:

Some women aren’t aware that they are, in fact, lesbians until they meet a woman who rocks their world and their understanding of what attraction is.  Some women think that it’s normal to not want to kiss their partner, or to be neutral about or even “grossed-out” by sex with a man.  I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve heard it described by my “straight” friends.

Some women are bi-sexual, and don’t think of themselves that way until they meet a woman to whom they are attracted.  It can be a total surprise to them, as well as to their partner.

Some women are willing to ignore the fact that they are, in fact, gay in order to try to live the white-picket fence dream of having a family and a husband and a home.   It’s the dream we are all taught to aspire to, and the default we start with.  I mean, most of our parents are straight, right?

As I’ve said before, there are certainly generational things going on that inform how it is that lesbian relationships look.  Without role models, or positive portrayals of lesbian relationships, we’ve had to figure out what it looks like to live our lives.

Based on the fact that you were married for more than 26 years, I’m going to make an assumption about your ages.  Generally speaking, my generation of lesbians (30ish) grew up in a shifting society, where the idea of being in a committed relationship with another woman wasn’t an impossible one.  It is something that’s presented as, “not what I’d want for my daughter, but at least it’s love.”

And still, I remember being in high school and deciding that I wouldn’t be gay.  Looking at my best guy friends and making a list of who I could most stand to spend my life with, knowing that I’d never be attracted to them.  I wasn’t thinking about building a strategic long-term relationship with them.  I was thinking that I liked them.  That I loved them even.  And that I’d be able to make it work.  They weren’t some suckers that I thought I could dupe.  They were loving, beautiful men whose friendship was so strong that I thought it could be enough to have a life-long emotional relationship with them.  Even while I was in a long-term relationship with a woman.

The generation older than mine (to which I’m assuming you and your ex belong) grew up in a very different world.  That world was one where the idea of two women living together was a near impossibility.  That only happened for spinster sisters or widows.  Relationships between women were hidden, deviant, and never aspired to.  In fact, gay sex was illegal in a number of states.

Nearly everything around us still screams that it would be much easier to be accepted; so much easier to fit in.  Books, movies, tv shows, magazines, cocktail parties, co-workers, and on and on, all point to the “normal” straight relationships that are the generally assumed goal.  And sometimes, the idea of trying to live that dream with a man can be enough to convince women who would otherwise live as lesbians to push down the essence of who they are in order to try to be “normal”.  Having a shot at a patently accepted life with someone you love – especially someone who is your best friend – can be tempting, even if you know you’re not attracted to him.

But society is changing.  And that means that lesbians who have, in the past, chosen to try to live a straight life are now living in a more accepting society.  And that can allow all of us the beautiful freedom to live our lives fully and honestly.  Something that wasn’t always the case.  For the women who find themselves in inauthentic relationships with men, however, the transition can be painful for them and for their partners.  I’m grateful that the current generation will have less of these painful transitions as they are able to be themselves more fully from the beginning.

It’s an incredibly hard thing to be yourself when you’re gay.  But it’s even harder to not be yourself.

In the end, who we are will always come to the surface.  I don’t know your wife, or the relationship that you have.  But when you are able to talk about the whats and whys, you may find that she wishes that she hadn’t hurt her best friend.  Just the fact that you want to understand why this happened instead of blindly blaming says a lot.  Thank you for taking the time to ask.  I hope that you will find the peace and great, authentic love that we all deserve.

Reason I ask….no matter how much I try to be nice, I just view other women as enemies that must be dominated, belittled and outdone in all circumstances.  And I never put anything past other women when it comes to my husband.  Do gay women have to deal with competition from men?  So curious if this is even an issue, or if by definition gay women are completely immune to their charms.

With most questions about gay relationships, I find myself answering that the experience is much the same as straight relationships.  Yes, we bicker about money.  Yes, we like to hold each other and watch tv.  Yes, we get nervous when we meet the in-laws.  But this question has had me thinking for a couple of weeks about how different the experience of being a woman dating women is.

NOTE: As always, I’m answering this question from my personal perspective.  I’m not speaking for all of the gays – just one of the gays.  And this is something I’ve had experience with lately.

Dating. First of all, it seems to be a common issue for women who are dating women to be unclear whether and who they are actually dating.  Is a coffee date a date date, or just coffee? If you’re not kissing, but want to be, is that a date?  What if you haven’t communicated that desire to the other person?  Date?  For two single women to go out to coffee, or even dinner and a movie, isn’t necessarily a date.  For two single lesbians, however, it can be unclear.  Seriously unclear.

Maybe it’s the same for straight people, I’m not sure.  But I’m learning that, in order to make sure everyone is on the same page, it’s a good idea to be very clear up front about whether you are on a date, or hanging out as friends.

Men. As for men as competition, the women that I date or am interested in dating are lesbians.  Which means that, by and large, they aren’t attracted to men.  So, when it comes to seeing men as competition, no, I don’t see them that way.

However…

Competition. And this is where it gets interesting – I can see a lesbian as either a potential date, or as potential competition.  The same woman.  Which brings me back to the issue of knowing whether you are dating someone.  Because, if you are interacting with a woman based on an assumption that she’s a potential date, and it turns out she’s actually competition, it can seriously change the dynamic.  A woman can be one moment someone I might be on a date with, and the next moment someone who is dating someone I’d like to be dating.  It’s even possible that she can be both – at the same time.  Which makes my head and heart explode a little.

For example:  Recently, I found myself in separate, undefined dating-type situations with a couple of fantastic women.  We’d meet for coffee, or bike to pie, or just hang out and watch tv.  A couple of times a week.  I liked them both, found them attractive, and enjoyed spending time with each of them.  They knew that I was spending time with other women, and I knew the same about them.  I saw each of them as potential dates, and interacted with them as though I might like to date them.  But, as we started to define what it was we were doing (whether it was actually dating), we discovered that the three of us were, in fact, dating each other.  Yikes.  Unexpected.  Very quickly, I found that my interactions and feelings about these lovely women shifted and twisted.  I saw one of them as a date and one of them as competition.

And yes, I realize that seeing women as either quarry or competition is seriously limiting, but I think it’s something interesting to consider, nonetheless.  Especially given my reaction.  Yes, it’s time for me to examine the way I view women.  But it also illustrates a dynamic that I hadn’t noticed before.

And I think it’s very different from straight relationships.

So the short answer is, no, I don’t see men as competition.  I kind of think that would be easier.  Right now I feel like every coffee is a scene out of James Bond where I’m trying to figure out whether the beautiful woman across the table from me is a foreign agent about to trade my secrets for a chance at a new life.