5th October 2008
Question
I'm a married woman and fell in love with a man I used to work with. I believe that he loved me too. Possibly he still does. We never entered into a relationship. He left the job six years ago. The problem is, I don't want to forget him. Although I do not want a relationship with him for many reasons, mainly because I know it would end in grief, I like loving him. I like knowing that there is someone in the world with whom I felt in tune.
I have no close friends, nor do I feel the need for any. My relationship with my husband is not close, but we get on. I am a bit of an oddball. Also, through loving this man, I have become a better person. My good points seem to have taken over while my bad points seem to have taken a back seat. I am happier now.
I rarely see this man, and when I do we just nod to each other, or pretend not to see each other. But I would hate if he went away altogether. Maybe I'm living in a dream world. Things don't seem to bother me as much as they should. Or maybe I have become indifferent. Ought I be concerned about this?
Answer
It's not a question of whether or not you ought to be concerned. You are concerned. Otherwise you wouldn't be talking to me. That's our starting point.
Saying that you're an oddball sounds an alarm bell in my head. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that it sounds a note of concern in my consciousness. Maybe it's just a jokey comment, but I'm not convinced.
When our emotional needs are not met, it hurts. We hide from that pain either by ignoring it and thus sending our psychological distress underground, where it does damage in mysterious ways, causing anything and everything from depression to dyspepsia. Or we tell ourselves it's all our fault, that our emotional needs are nonsense, that we should be different, that we have no right to want whatever it is we want, that we are, at some level, an oddball. Either way, it's about taking flight, opting out, in one way or another.
You are lonely in your marriage. To fill the gap you fell in love with someone who is, in fact, a phantom figure. Oh yes, he exists, but only in as far as he's a man with a name. You don't know him in the intimate sense of seeing him in operation on a daily basis. Or rather, you no longer know him, you are no longer faced with the reality of him. So he can safely be used as a vehicle for your dreams.
Dreams are not to be sneezed at. They are about hope, about the belief that things can be better, about a private world of fantasy in which we are winners rather than losers. There are, after all, some situations we can't change. Endurance, coupled with dreams, can then be a vital part of survival. But dreaming as a substitute for taking a stand, fighting our corner, battling for our fair share, can become a problem. Because there are many situations we can change. It's not always necessary to put up with the emotional pain.
The question is: Are you living a necessary compromise, one of your own choosing? Is your loneliness the price you pay for a marriage you wish to maintain? Or is it that you're too scared, too timid, too unskilled in self-assertion to try and change things?
Or am I presuming too much? Do you like the lack of closeness with your husband? Is that the way you wish to function? Are you, contrary to my concern, saying something positive when you describe yourself as an oddball? Are you talking to me merely because you can see that others don't function like you do?
It's fine to be different, if that's the real you. It's also fine to settle for compromise, if that is your active choice. Things only go seriously pear-shaped psychologically when we hide from our true selves out of fear. You are a good person. I would hate to think that you walk in shadow because you're afraid to ask for what you need.
