195: Writing to an agony aunt

 There was an article in the Guardian - My marriage is in meltdown – again. How can I save it? | Marriage | The Guardian. In it, the letter writer to the agony aunt talked about there being enough 'scraps of battered love ...' to try and save the marriage and asked for advice. 

Philippa Perry provides various bits of advice and then goes a little 'mechanical' - 'feelings follow behaviour'. [I smiled as in my professional change management world I often use 'mechanics drive culture'!!]

'give your husband at least three appreciations or compliments every day' - the only love letters that exist are from me to her. Nicknames made up were from me. After every rollicking I would come back and try to be affectionate all over again. More fool me - presents would have been enough.

'Remember love is not something passive that you fall into, it is something active that you do. Also think of three loving behaviours to do every day. Maybe help him with his tax bill, or empty the dishwasher or cook a nice meal. You must get into the habit of these loving behaviours before you even begin to address any complaints to re-establish trust' - have helped her with job applications when requested, washing, cleaning, the lot - not as a chore or a transactional action but simply as a partner. 

'And it is amazing that when you decide to act in loving, forgiving ways, it can make you feel more loving, too. Feelings follow behaviour.' - and, believe me, I have tried.

I came across this old entry, at a point where I had lost my temper after years of accepting it all: Confidant: 58: In her words ... and some in mine (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) 

The feelings are clear on both sides but I end the letter by trying to take steps - things got much worse before improving but I know I have tried everything.

And here as well: Confidant: Entry 21: All Gone to Pot (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) 

Reading the 'battered love' letter, I wrote to Philippa Perry and asked, not for advice, but the benefit of her experience because my / our experience is commonplace. She came back very quickly in an email. 

The maxim, 'choose guilt every time', is a strong one - let's see.

Hello Philippa 

Thank you for your clear and succinct thought. 

I have stayed all these years because I could not bear the thought of living apart from our son; not because of my value to his life but his to mine.

He is now 17 and next year gets to his A Levels. That is my target date. 

Thank you again, I read your column with interest and wish you well. 

Take care

 A.

On 15 Mar 2023, at 11:55, Philippa Perry <philippa.perry.freelancer@theguardian.com> wrote:

Hi there A., 

 You have a choice, it seems, between resentment or guilt

 "How do I get past the guilt and sense of duty? What is the thought process I can cultivate?"

 In that situation, choose guilt every time. 

 To lessen the guilt see you child and be involved in your child's life as much as you can be and carry on with financial arrangements until child is independent. But don't waste your life by being shouted at. 

 With very best wishes, 

 Philippa

 On Fri, 10 Mar 2023 at 12:21

Dear Philippa

 I am writing this with much hesitancy as I ponder why I am doing so, but here goes anyway.

I read with interest the letter and your response of 5^th March, 2023. In my case the ‘scraps of battered love’ blew away years ago. I have been shouted at and held my voice while her anger has humiliated me. I have joked, reasoned, written and, in return, been accused of being callous and a failure. I have not judged but been supportive of every move. I have screamed into pillows and gone to bed crying despite being an adult, given myself space with the gym and sport, gone to counselling when I began to dream of falling planes and popping pills, written a diary to let go of stress.

 And I know that my story is entirely unexceptional. And that, perhaps, is why I am writing.

 To try to find who is to blame and who is more wrong or less right is futile – what is, just is, and who cares anyway – there is no value to apportioning fault. Coming to my mid-fifties with a child a couple of years from finishing school, I know I need to get away. While I have been accused of infidelity that is not true (never has been) and I have no one to go to. For my peace of my mind, though, for however many years I have left, I just need to be alone.

 She is a perfectly educated, outwardly charming, healthy, well-loved woman but one who has chosen, mostly, not to work – and that means that she is, perhaps, not as independent as she might be. I don’t care about monetary or financial arrangements – they can carry on as now; but I need to get away.

 I am not seeking permission but looking for guidance based on your experience. Is this immature? How do I get past the guilt and sense of duty? What is the thought process I can cultivate?

 With thanks

 A. (obviously, should you proceed with this, I would request anonymity)

 Background: The issues began almost from the start of my marriage - Confidant: 141: In the words of Don McLean, The Day the Music Died - April 2000 (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) and we almost came to divorce - Confidant: 155: History - when will she burp again? (dear-confidant.blogspot.com). There was then a Confidant: 99 – A Dramatic Turnaround (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) and life has been mostly peaceable and bearable since, but I cannot forget.