Dear Bel,
After a long, painful divorce from an unfaithful husband 22 years ago I met a man separated from his wife because of her infidelity.
We became friends, then lovers; I would have trusted him with my life. We had separate houses but stayed, travelled, met families and friends, texted or phoned most days, supported each other through divorce, redundancy, illness and family troubles.
In 2017, he lost his high-powered job and took it hard. He was also looking after his terminally ill mother. Eventually, he got a contract some distance away and rented there. We met at weekends. He’s a workaholic who often does 16-hour days and rarely has an entire weekend free. Two of his three adult daughters have had many problems, ask for money and make demands.
Last summer, he decided to sell his house; we agreed he could create an office here, using my home as a base. I admit to tensions as we’re both used to living alone.
We also had problems with our sex life. He has some ‘mechanical’ issues and my sex drive has dwindled. But he still seemed loving and committed to me.
Earlier this month, he texted a loving message saying he was on his way. On arrival, his stricken face made me think something awful had happened. Then he said we needed to talk. He was having an affair with the woman who works for him.
She is 38 to his 62, with a husband and two children younger than his grandchildren. He likes and respects her husband and we have dined at their home.
He said they became intimate in December, he still cares deeply for me but is in love, and not ready to feel old and without passion. I went into shock. He left to meet her and called back the following day to collect some stuff. I have had a sort of breakdown — signed off work, staying with family.
I’m 65. This woman is a year older than his daughter. How can a man who seemed devoted and sincere change into a stranger so fast? I alternate between hoping that this is a madness that will pass and blaming myself for the lack of sex.
Distraught, I’m seeing my future vanish overnight.
I have resisted any pleading or ranting but feel crushed, unable to eat or sleep properly. How do I watch him just walk away?
ELAINE
This week Bel advises a distraught woman whose partner is leaving for a younger woman and saw her future vanish overnight
The anguished cries of those who have been cruelly hurt, especially after many years of love, echo down the centuries — and no words can assuage that pain.
Believe me, I understand this. I also know what it’s like to wonder what became of the man you thought you knew and to gaze in bewilderment as the edifice you believed secure lies on the ground at your feet, scattered like fallen playing cards.
Love is such a destructive force — not the long, deep affection of years, but the tornado of passion that sweeps people off their feet into a state of near-madness.
In my experience, men are especially vulnerable to the sickness when the 60th year is on the horizon or just past. In your longer letter you enumerate many family problems and other upsetting events which your man had endured recently. You also explain that your mother has dementia, requiring many trips to see her. So you were both under strain.
Added to this, your partner sold his house ‘to take advantage of the price boom’ and moved in part-time with you, adding to the stress. After all, you are both of an age to be set in your ways.
Yes, the spark between you had gone, but the love had not. His turning to a woman 24 years his junior is a casebook cliché, and now he must deal with his own guilt and confusion over you, the pain and anger of her husband, the views of his adult daughters and the fact that he has sexual problems of his own which will not disappear overnight, as he has discovered. Will that satisfy the 38-year-old for very long?
In addition, he has been a chronic workaholic for years — a flaw you were willing to put up with. Now he has fallen for a young mother of two and the total upheaval will play utter havoc with his work as well as his life. This is a far from promising scenario. How long before he realises he has made a foolish mistake?
He has hurt you terribly, but I don’t think you should give up hope. Would you be able to forgive him? In your place I would do everything possible to keep icy-calm, let him see how strong you remain, and wait a while for him to turn back. And if he doesn’t? You may find that by then you have learned how to walk away yourself. Believe me, that can happen.
I can’t sleep over wedding stress
Dear Bel
My son David was married for 30 years, brought up two lovely children, put them through university, supported them in everything.
However, he divorced their mum two years ago. No one else is involved and he’s continued to keep close contact with their children.
His daughter Pat recently got engaged to a nice young man with whom she has been living for several years.
I was so looking forward to a lovely sociable family occasion where we could all be together after a horrible couple of years between lockdowns and two close family deaths.
More from Bel Mooney for the Daily Mail…
But I am devastated for my son (and my daughter, the bride’s auntie) because my granddaughter Pat has just announced they are having 120 to the wedding — I will be the only other relative from her dad’s side of the family. She’s told her dad he won’t be part of the ‘wedding party’ and asked her brother to walk her down the aisle, saying she’s a big girl now and doesn’t need her father to ‘give her away’.
All her mother’s family are being invited: aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews etc. I can’t believe she is being so spiteful or why.
David won’t be seated at the top table, nor make a speech. He cannot understand why Pat is being so hurtful. My initial reaction was to ask her why none of my close relatives ie my daughter, her small family, my only sister, haven’t been invited.
David says not to as he doesn’t want to give her an excuse to cancel my invitation. I haven’t slept for weeks now worrying about how I will cope at the reception on my own, and support David. What are your thoughts?
CAROLE
Over the years I have written much about weddings, yet my astonishment is still as fresh as ever. Why? Because people get so many things wrong and cause so much unnecessary hurt.
Having organised (in 2009) a big wedding for my daughter, I know what stress the whole circus can cause. Sometimes it’s inevitable that people will take offence at being left out, even if their relationship with the bride and groom is remote. Sometimes too, simmering resentments bubble up when the invitation list is being drawn up, leading to misunderstandings and pain.
I understand why you are hurt on behalf of your son and the rest of your side of the family. Still, I must start by begging you earnestly never to use the word ‘spiteful’ in this context. It sets your psyche in the wrong place — expressing anger and bitterness, rather than a wish to make things better.
I wonder if we might begin by considering whether this young woman is not so much ‘spiteful’ as expressing a deep sadness and hurt? This can take the form of a wish to punish. Her seemingly inexplicable wedding decision might in truth be a consequence of the recent past.
The question that jumps out is, ‘Exactly why did David and his wife divorce?’ You say no one else was involved, but do not explain who instigated the break up, whether it was amicable, and how the adult children dealt with the end of the family life they had known, after 30 years. The answers to those questions might lead towards understanding why Pat has made her decisions about her guest list. She is clearly taking her mother’s side — which prompts the question, why?
I suspect you know far more about the complications of this issue than you reveal. It would be interesting to know more about your own relationship with your daughter-in-law, because if you have become remote or hostile to her that would also help explain Pat’s guest list.
As his mother, it is natural for you to be on David’s side; as Pat’s grandmother you might give at least some thought to how her father’s actions might have disappointed or hurt her.
Your son is wise in deterring you from cross-examining your granddaughter. Given your obvious condemnation of her you might find it hard to avoid hostility. On the other hand, as grandmother you are surely entitled to some respect, and I don’t see why it would be wrong to send Pat a pretty card, saying how happy you are at the prospect of a wedding but wondering why her auntie can’t come along with you, as you feel a tad nervous at the thought of being on your own.
But of course, you won’t be because you will be with David. Your role is to support each other and fix on brave happy faces for the sake of the two young people who are getting married.
David will get through the event, because he must. And so, I am afraid, must you.
And finally… Find solace in friendship and nature
With two visiting friends, I went to the glorious exhibition of Tudor portraits at Bath’s Holburne Museum for the second time. (It is on until May, so do go if you possibly can.)
Quite apart from the magnificent and fascinating portraits of Elizabeth I, Henry VII, Mary Queen of Scots and the rest, so much filled my heart with cheer.
I loved watching three teenage girls pick up one of the helpful laminated sheets explaining the genealogy of the Tudors, then walk back to scrutinise the works with animated conversation.
Then, on the landing (being a friendly old gal who still has an eye!) I got talking to two tall, very good-looking guys in their 20s, both wearing cool clothes and beanies. It turned out they were French, taking a short break in London during their studies in Paris, and had come to Bath specially to see the Holburne Museum.
They asked what else they should see in the city, and I was ready with suggestions (the Roman Baths, of course). We had fun chatting about many things, and in their perfect English they explained how friendly they find London — so much friendlier than Paris.
It was so refreshing to hear such enthusiasm for our country — and to add to their ‘plaisir’ by being (as I quipped in schoolgirl French), ‘comme votre grand-mere’. Cue much laughter.
Two days later, with our friends gone, the sun was shining so (my mobility aided by Nordic walking poles) we strolled across our big field, and saw three beautiful deer, two woodpeckers and some ducks.
Birds wheeled high in the sky, catkins trembled in the breeze and our three dogs bounded happily in the rough meadow grass.
I thought happily of our dear friends, of the museum — and then of those portraits of power and suffering. We must always remember that such things will always pass, but friendship, the warmth of people and the glory of nature do endure.
