4th January, 2009
Question
My husband doesn't want to have sex. He's a 'cross-dresser' and an alcoholic. He had a penile implant two years ago, but still we don't have sex. I've left him twice, but decided to change my expectations, after over 20 years of being together, and continue my marriage. We never talk, just exchange the necessary comments about daily living.
I am now lonelier than ever. I just got back from a weekend away, on my own. My husband's job with an international company took him all over the world and he now just wants to stay at home. I had a wonderful time. I had pleasant conversations, enjoyed the scenery, and tried to hold onto the positive feelings coming home. But today I cried a lot, for the first time in a long time, feeling the emptiness of our relationship stronger than ever.
If you asked my husband, he would not want to leave me. He never indicates that in any way. I wish he would, though, since it would get me off the hook of leaving him again. We've both been to counsellors over the years, but always separately. I have no idea what he talks about, but I talk about my loneliness. I want to leave him, but I'm afraid of the emotional consequences. I don't know if I'm strong enough. Or perhaps I'm just too lazy.
The only way I can balance the marriage is by spending his money in return for doing all the work around the house, as well as maintaining a full-time job. He took early retirement two years ago. But money is not the answer of course. It doesn't fill my need to feel like a woman, along with all the other benefits of sex. In the back of my mind, the cross-dressing bothers me. He knows this and never exposes me to it. But the knowing itself is hard.
Answer
Don't go there. Into the cross-dressing I mean. You're not a victim. You've always known. In emotional terms, it's a cheap shot at shifting responsibility. It's also decidedly beside the point. Drop it.
Your failure to leave is not about laziness. You stay because, however marginally, it's more emotionally comfortable than leaving. That's not a criticism. Emotional comfort is not a cop-out. It can be a straight-jacket, but we'll deal with that in a moment.
Decisions should always be respected. You stay in your marriage because you need to stay. That need may be born of cowardice, lack of imagination, false hopes for change, perceived helplessness, or a misguided emphasis on issues such as respectability and social status. Even if any or all of that is true, you must respect such vulnerability. Fear is not foolish. Fear is also a guide, a helping hand in self-protection. It only eases, when we find another way of doing just that, namely emotionally protecting ourselves.
Your decision to stay could also be a question of wisdom. It is, quite objectively, very hard to step outside a long marriage - or even a not-so-long marriage. Familiarity brings huge rewards. And it's not just a question of that rather flippant saying that the devil you know is better than the devil you don't know. You've carved out a place for yourself in your marriage. Certainly, it is lonely. But it is not just something that was 'done' to you. Your situation, sad as it is, was created by you too. Think of how you shaped yourself to fit in with the reality of who your husband is. Such self-shaping wasn't just superficial. It took enormous effort. No-one walks lightly away from such energy engagement.
People seem to find it hard to understand that a woman, or man, can miss a poor marriage partner. That's because everyone forgets the issue of choice. You chose your husband. You also chose to stay, or to return after leaving. Even a battered wife knows, deep down, that she chose that battering spouse. Sure, her choice came from a damaged part of her psyche, but she chose him all the same. And that's equally true when the hurt inflicted is psychological, rather than physical.
You also know that happiness doesn't just hit you the minute you close that marital door behind you. You've tried that. Happiness has to be won, by hard graft. The work entails changing our own inner selves, something you attempted when you talked about altering your expectations. It's also a job that is never finished. Happiness, in fact, is a daily task of self-discipline, digging deep inside ourselves to find meaning and contentment, learning to steer ourselves in the right direction, rather than waiting, in your case, for your husband to change, and throw you out.
I am not arguing that you should stay. I'm not even trying to hint at such a solution. I'm just saying that sometimes we can spend too much energy imagining a change in circumstances, and too little making the most of what is, for almost everyone, a very imperfect life. No, that's not a criticism either. It's a suggestion that you redirect your energy into creating true contentment where you can, and ditching as many areas of resentment as possible. For example, why do you do everything around the house? Why not a full-time housekeeper, gardener and handyman? Money much better spent compared to the short-lived comfort of retail therapy, not to mention eliminating the element of revenge.
You see. Practical changes are never just that, practical. They represent a huge emotional shift. No punishment, either of yourself or your husband. Just a systematic rewriting of the lines, or roles, or non-verbal communication - which is, of course, present, in spades.
