Should I stay with him and think about a future, knowing full well that he could tell me one day that he's actually gay and wants to be with a man, or that he wants to transition, and leave me with a bunch of baggage, such as getting a divorce (sharing custody of kids, finances), and time/energy/effort lost? How much should I invest in this relationship with those inconvenient truths that might very well be on the horizon?
You have a lot of questions about your boyfriend’s sexuality, and feeling uneasy with this kind of uncertainty is natural. In intimate relationships, most people value the safety that comes from knowing what to expect from the other person. That’s why changes in those expectations can be jarring and threaten an entire relationship, as when one person in a longtime monogamous couple wants an open relationship—or, in the scenario you’re concerned about, when one person in a heterosexual relationship realizes (or comes to acknowledge) that he wants a same-sex partner instead.
What strikes me most about your letter, though, is the amount of emotional energy you’re putting into guessing your boyfriend’s state of mind. The more you ruminate about his potential turmoil, the more turmoil you create for yourself. And even as you worry about whether he might be keeping his thoughts from you, you’re also keeping your thoughts from him.
In a strong relationship, the kind that goes the distance, people feel comfortable discussing delicate subjects. It’s true that a sexual incompatibility might end your relationship, but what can do so just as easily is avoidance. You want him to show up, but you have to show up too.
It sounds like the two of you haven’t really talked about sexuality together in any depth. For instance, when you asked him early on if he was with you to appease his parents and he replied “Kind of,” what did you two do with that answer? I have a feeling that both of you were afraid to explore what he meant. Is it that he knows his being with a woman makes his parents happy but he would choose a female partner anyway? Or is it that he can’t tolerate his parents’ disapproval and that he happens to find you attractive (i.e., he can see that you’re pretty, the way we all can see if someone of any gender is attractive) even though he’s not attracted to you the way he might be to a man? Similarly, have you two ever talked about what being bi means for him? Have you asked how he feels never having experienced male intimacy despite being attracted to men?
Now’s the time to have these discussions, and you can start by making sure that you broach the topic as a conversation and not as an accusation—here’s the evidence! The effeminate gestures! The flamboyant clothing! You might say something such as, “I’ve been thinking about this; I’m curious; I feel like we need to talk more about this.” You’ll also want to be mindful not to pressure him to take a stance, especially because he may not know how he feels, or he may not be ready to say. The point of these initial conversations will likely be less about getting answers and more about hearing each other: “It sounds like you’re feeling scared/confused/conflicted” or “It sounds like my questions about your sexuality are upsetting to you. Can you tell me why?” Hopefully he can respond in kind: not “Why are you having all these crazy thoughts?” but “Yeah, I’m starting to think about some of these things in therapy but I don’t have any answers yet” or “Actually, I’m not struggling with my sexual identity, but I’m glad you’re telling me about the worries you’ve been keeping to yourself.”