125: Narratives and change

I have left my permanent role after 11 years with the same organisation, taken redundancy and started up as consultant. I was speaking to my mum on the phone.

'Well, you are very brave. But so long as you get the necessary income, I suppose. You won't be MD here anyway.'

The 'here' was to do with being an Asian in an European country - and I don't buy that personally; she doesn't either I am sure.

The interesting point about that comment to me was about not being an MD!! Here is a woman who has been sacrificed on the altar of her husband's career, who has spoken and written at length about having had to give up her dreams for the sake of others - and yet, she cannot get away from the narrative of being an MD.

I have been lucky enough to support my family in the home while providing material benefits - but I have not pushed myself at work. There I have earnt enough (between £85k and £105k since 2007) but have not had to commit the time and effort that could easily have been the case. I believe - and it may be rationalisation of sorts - that I have been given the opportunity to be balanced - notwithstanding the marriage issues that have nevertheless arisen.

If I may be bold - and it is presumptuous right now - I have been fortunate enough to challenge the narrative of 'success' being completely associated with position and have been someone who, I believe, has provided and supported. I do not regard that as a sacrifice in any way - it has been of value to me that I have been a close father and I know that I have been a supportive husband.

But these 'narratives' abound and I have to learn in several arenas - not just the professional and parental. Marriage and having the courage to break rather than stay and be miserable is the next barrier - may God give me strength and the luck.

I have written before about the 'one that got away' and even in 2014 I appear to write about wanting 'an other' with whom to share.

I have moved on now, 4 years later.

If truth be told, in my adult life I suppose I have met 3 women in my life with whom I have felt a sort of spontaneous connection - I did with my wife as well (penultimate paragraph) but that was swiftly thrown back in my face!!

The one who is the subject of 'the one that got away', one I worked with and was accused of having an affair with by my wife and a third whom I have known since the 90s but lives in another country. Each has provided me with confidence and all three are dreamy - far too good for me. With none have I said or done anything untoward.

Now, when I speak about being a 'silver splitter', it is no longer that I somehow dream of being with one of them or, indeed, anyone else. I truly believe I am better off alone. The very thought of having to worry about someone else on a daily basis scares the bollocks of me. Alone - that's me - but hopefully not lonely.

124: Nasty I know but ...

Life is still fine - we seem to be gettng along. But then, we have now spent close to £50,000 on the house now and two holidays in the summer!!

Nasty in tone that last sentence, I know, but I will let myself go this once.

She was doing a voluntary role - reading at a school. Unpaid of course and about 2 hours a week.

As usual, she was lecturing them about this and that and after one - no doubt - hectoring email, the school came back and said that 'from her tone' it was clear that 'she no longer wanted to work' there - it thanked her and wished her well for the future!

Being let go from a voluntary role is quite a feat.

A number of her friends from a decade or more ago were passing through London - we could see on Facebook. She even got in touch with them. They went out for dinner about half an hour from us - again Facebook. She somehow missed out on being invited.

123: My Father 2 ... and Lessons

So, what lessons can be learned.

The good bits:

Objectively, I can say that I am closer to my son than he was with me. I asked my elder brother (by 7 years) whether he had been different with him, when he was younger – more cheerful, closer? I did not get a response.

In absolute terms I am probably seen as a worrier but in relative terms, I worry less I am sure.

I am less judgemental of people.

Have more personal friends.

Probably more content.

The bad bits:

No way near as successful as a professional.

Have not helped people anywhere near as much.

Not as clever or hard working.

And  then …

Comes my parents’ relationship. It can’t always have been bad and sometimes, as a youngster, if I came into their room unexpectedly, I can remember them springing away from a hug.

But the overwhelming memory is of my mother being hugely resentful – of marrying into a big joint family, of not having been able to work. This resentment came out in mocking his family and continuously harping on about what she might have been. And lots of ill temper almost all the time and a huge need for control.

He kept his head down for a peaceful life but am pretty confident that at critical junctures he ruled out options – for example, her not working – and so the hurt was both ways for sure.

I do not want to end up there. I do not want years of misery because it is easier to stay than to split. Following his death, my mother is now enjoying the freedom of a lessening of responsibility. If I live as long as 81, I do not want to wait.

I have a duty to my son and life is peaceful anyway. But if there is a lesson, in my parents’ marriage, and those of others, it is surely that the break is better. Perhaps not for all concerned but certainly for the one wanting to get away. I do not want to create an ideological position and it is not something I think about every moment and every day – but the time will come?

122: My Father 1

It is 27^th June today. My father’s birthday. He would have been 92. He died last December.

Sitting at my desk at work, a bit bored and needing distraction, I open up Facebook. My brother has a post there marking the day – I hadn’t remebered. Suddenly feel the need to write.

My father was a great man in so many senses. From looking after his extended family, to being the best engineer I ever knew and a very successful one, his capacity for hard work and duty to his family, loyalty to his bosses. He achieved much and left a lot of good memories for everyone.

Towards the end of his life, he suffered from dementia and it would be true to say that I was not very nice to him over perhaps the last two years before he died. I could argue that I was protecting the people around him – specifically my mum I suppose – as he turned into someone dragging everyone down with him. Equally, it could be that I seized the advantage of him not being very well to let my frustrations out, to get angry at him because I could, while convincing myself that the only way to deal with a ‘bully’ is by fighting back. Or that I do not have the patience to deal with uncomfortable situations. That conflict will always be with me, ever unresolved as I cannot be judge and jury to myself.

Were we close? Not particularly. He was much older (42 when I was born), somewhat distant, no interests in common. I went into heavy industry and engineering because of him as I admired that life but we hardly ever spoke about work. There were no hugs but he would be affectionate if I lay down on the sofa with my head on his lap.

I think there was a mutual respect. He recognised that I very rarely ‘asked’ for anything from him or my parents as a whole. One incident I remember, I schlepped across London with golf clubs as my mum said she needed their car and I could not borrow it – mine was with my wife. He got quite upset apparently because I never asked for anything but had done so once and been denied! (This is contrast to my brother and sister-in-law who had a much closer relationship with far greater give and take.)

Then, one year (2015 I think) he told me that I was the only one he could confide in – that he was being treated ‘like a servant’ in his own home. My mother was and is not an easy woman and their's was a harsh relationship from the outside – with mutual anger and recriminations that came out more and more over the years. I told him that I was in the same boat and that it was our lot in life to put one step in front of the other and carry on!!

But he never spoke to me about my admission at all. And while it may be unfair to say so given all that he did for others, it prompts me to think that there was a selfishness there – an ‘all about me.’ Behind a modest exterior was someone who was proud of what he had achieved – absolutely nothing wrong with that. Or was there? This was not a 'comfortable' pride - a man content. There always appeared to be a role to be played, it felt like. Being the most hospitable, kind, generous – and he was all of those things. And he was also successful and gave my brother and me fantastic starts in life. But he never appeared to be able to enjoy what he had done. It was always duty, the continuous feeling perhaps that he was being judged, there were always fears and negativity and hypochondria … and, in a sense, perhaps it all built up inside him to the extent that he was always the victim. There was this complete focus on work and confidence which did not extend to much of the rest of his life. Totally comfortable with going to Libya via Malta during American sanctions or fly in single prop. engines in the Liberia but huge fears about a simple cataract operation or a minor back-ache.

What is the magic bullet that explains him? This mix of greatness and smallness? I remember we were in Moscow once and there was a problem with plane tickets. I expected this experienced business traveller to take command, and yet he did not – he actively moved away from it by handing the tickets over to someone else. He went down in my estimation a little then though I was in my teens. He told me about how he left an organisation and told his subordinates to decide amongst themselves as to who would take over. I saw a letter to his eye consultant suggesting a cataract operation on one eye but then rowing back and writing that he wasn’t at all suggesting a particular avenue of action.

He was clearly very, very good at what he did – particularly in the first half of his career – but always seemed to be afraid. My mother relates the story of his boss saying that he ‘suffers from so many inhibitions, always inhibitions.’ In which case he was lucky with his managers who recognised the talent and supported his work.

So, in the end, he was a complex person just as we all are and it is far easier to spot weaknesses in others than in ourselves.

He was what he was and the positives – certainly for me as his son – outweigh the negatives. What are the lessons to be learned? …..next post.

121: Funny ... and sad

So, all is well and life continues peacefully.

We must have spent close to £30k on the house in the last few months - on kitchen and bathrooms. The projects have over-run and there has been stress but not towards me or our son. The builder was chosen by her and so, I suppose, the capacity for blame is limited.

Anyway... the reason for writing is different.

We have not had the use of our own bedroom for a while because of the building works and we have been using the guest room. Now that we have two bedrooms again, and now that I am full time living at home - I had been working away during the week on a consultancy assignment - and working in the city, I suggested that we sleep apart during the week.

The reasoning being that I am a very, very light sleeper, she snores very loudly and my sleep is continually interrupted. When she is away or I am working away from home, I sleep well. As sleep is very important for health, this seemed a logical suggestion as I remain the sole earner and it is important for all of us that I remain healthy.

The last time I tried this, she got very upset. And this time she has said that I should go and see the doctor for my light sleep and that sleeping apart was not an option.

So, I have tried to be open, asked for a favour which is in all our interests, and she has flatly refused. It remains all about control. I will go to the doctor and I suppose I will bear the problem until I can't any more - the time is not right to create a fissure but how typical that she thinks only of herself and doesn't give a shit about the effect on me.

The second incident is funny. One of my relations had come over and, for some reason, the conversation turned to cars - and, specifically, £50k cars. 'Is a £50k car expensive then?' I had to point out to her that our's cost £11k and, yes, £50k is expensive. Does that strike you as someone who has had to be careful about money?

I am tired of listening about other people's extensions and how they have a budget of £700k or more or are doing up the whole house. One day I said, 'look, I'm sorry I don't earn as much other husbands.' I certainly did not get a 'don't be silly!' in response - more of a silent acceptance ... of my uselessness I suppose!!

I remain unable to leave as our son is only 12 and is much closer to me than her - I could not do that to him. Nor do I want to wish my life away - but this is hard and I am so very tired.

120: A Quiet Phase

A long time since I wrote and 18 months from the magic turnaround. Life has continued pleasantly enough with no rows, her relationship with our son is much improved, we’ve been through many family dramas together – my mum breaking her hip, my father’s dementia and then death, her brother’s death, her mum’s stroke – and worked collaboratively through all of that with mutual support.

Professionally, I have left my permanent role in a large organisation and gone out contracting. The redundancy money is being used for a new kitchen and new bathrooms, with new flooring and decorating to come. Lots of money being spent.

Relationship wise, we have fun, we go out for meals and holidays are good. Sexually, though, nothing happens for me though I try to satisfy her, shall we say, manually. (The last time anything happened for me was August 2015 - easy to remember because it was an anniversary.)

But, you know, I cannot forget all that was said and, in the end, as she herself says of other people, it is not possible to change one’s nature. There are fewer flashes of the rather difficult-to-deal-with directness but pettiness, judgement on others, wanting something for nothing, a general neediness are all there.

I want to live my life a little free, without wondering how The Other will react. I work with other consultants now and have again realised that mine is not an uncommon story. One whom I spend a lot of time with was expressing the same sentiment – to do things for oneself rather than for the wife or wider family. That sounds selfish and I think it arises out of a feeling that I am doing things for others where I do not get an ‘equal’ reaction. The old feeling that I do the right things but the reaction is not what I would expect – like shouting down a valley and no echo returning.

And I do not, in any way, mean ‘gratitude’. Can I explain that?

I spent a couple of days with my brother and sister-in-law while my wife was away. And my sister-in-law and I had some conversations. She asked me who or what did I love? Of course my son, but what about others? She gave her own of example of going on holiday, staring at art was something she absolutely loved as she could lose herself.

I replied that, if I were being brutally honest then that list would be restricted to my son and my friends. Both are people who demand nothing and I am just ‘me’ – liked for who I am while not being taken for granted. A close cousin could be added to that list but even in stating that I knew I would come in for some teasing – so, I didn’t. And that is what I mean I suppose, a few paragraphs up. I feel as if I have worked and done things because I have had to and not for the greater purpose of ‘living a good life’ which surely must be the aim of privileged people like us who have won the lottery of birth.

‘You see yourself as a Provider,’ my sister-in-law said. And I suppose I am but that is not the person I want to be. That is the role I have had to assume as there is a great Want in the Other. I would have loved an adult relationship where we are ‘happy’ and know how to enjoy without so much need. But, disappointingly, what I have is an unequal relationship where I have been forcibly criticised for not being good enough as a provider with no attempt or desire to build a partnership or to help. And that does not necessarily mean being employed – it means a oneness, an acceptance of being good, of being forgiving towards making mistakes but also living up to each other and being, as the cliche goes, the best version of ourselves and having the support to be so.

And let me not be disingenuous. I like living in the house we live in now rather than the one we lived in for five years previously, which was fine but I felt was less than what I ‘should’ have. And so, if each of us has an in-built measure of ‘success’ then why do I criticise another’s view of what ‘should’ be? I suppose because there is only the Need there and not the attitude that – while there is always a huge amount of luck (starting with birth) – there has to be Work too. Birth, intelligence, qualifications are critical and can provide a head start but unless these are of exceptionally high levels still form only the foundations - the rest has to be worked for. So much can go right and so much can go wrong but the only thing in our hands is our effort and attitude - the rest is uncontrollable and we have to be lucky.

With my son and, as a child, things can be different.

He is now 12. A few weeks ago he was not very well and he went to sleep with his head on my chest and his arm around my waist. Last night he came to my room as he could not get to sleep and stayed with me – my wife is away. A year or so ago, I had fallen asleep – or so he thought – and he came and gave me a little hug before going to bed himself. He is not doing that because we are sending him to a fee-paying school or buying him gifts but something far simpler and deeper. And, I have truly learnt ‘love’ from him, the oneness that fills me with warmth. And, it turns out, I have written before on this - Dear Son.

And I try to role-model the behaviours I am trying to inculcate – openness, conscientiousness but, also, something that was significantly lacking in my growing up, and I am probably being very unfair here, a feeling of being loved. I am not sure I had that even though my parents no doubt felt it. It was a feeling of not being good enough, about being controlled and having to 'do' things to be liked. Some of that will always be felt and, yes, I do say to my son that there is very little for free and work is what gives us the freedom for other things – but that, at its best, work does not feel like work and actually is part of who you are and what you want to be.


But I also ask him (and he knows the answers) as  I tuck him in, 'who is my most favourite soul in the universe?' 'I am.' 'Who is my life?' 'Me' 'Who is my reason for living?' 'Me.'

In the end, I would like him to be a gentle person, with good friends, fulfilled at work and the ability to be content. Might take him a while – as it takes all of us, and he will have his own journey – but hope he gets there.

119 - 'Like a Woody Allen film'

3 school friends and I got together over dinner last week-end - one had come over from France. As a group, this was probably the first time we had got together since 1987 but individuals had been in touch throughout that time.

As evening turned to dusk, so we talked about life and stuff.

The one in France had married a French guy, divorced, lived with another and been forced to, essentially, run away - then married a great Scottish guy (who was divorced and, indeed, a grandfather, himself) and now appears to be content in her personal life and they have a lovely 7 year old daughter.

Another married her sweetheart from age 16, they had a daughter (now 16) and then he ran away when their child was 1 - with someone he met at FriendsReunited! My friend then married an Irish guy with whom she has two further kids.

The third worked her way through a number of relationships - some that may be considered 'rebellious' as she is Jewish. Then married a Jewish guy somewhat older than her and has a 9 year old son.

The details are not to identify but how varied people are.

And I, of course, have my own story.

One of my friends texted the next day to say that the dinner conversations could have formed the content of a Woody Allen film!

As I relate that line to other friends, that is true of virtually everyone. The four of us are ordinary people trying to live ordinary lives, but things get added to our lives like lego pieces or fall on us like dust and there is little that may be called simple.

Can I continue the metaphor further? Can we be the 'wall' that the proverbial jelly falls off of and retain who we are while dealing with the vicissitudes of life or do we allow ourselves to be overwhelmed and break down.

And, of course, these are first world problems. Floating across the Mediterranean in search of a better life, scraping of rubbish heaps to earn money - those are problems. Us? Unless they are medical and tragic, we make them but can't always unmake.