Childhood Hangover Endangers a ‘Role-Model’ Marriage
We talked on the phone for about 45 minutes. The conversation was draining, not to mention depressing.
“Well, I’ve given you enough stuff for about four columns,” she said, speaking with as much false cheer as she could muster.
Indeed she had and, to my surprise, she thought it’d be helpful to Someone Out There if I outlined her story. So here goes.
She’s a woman in her mid-40s who, for obvious privacy reasons, doesn’t want to be identified. She and her husband have been married for a dozen years and have what I’ve always referred to as one of the few “role-model” marriages I know of. They just seemed to have a very hip, adult relationship, genuinely affectionate toward each other but with just enough squabbling to keep you from getting sick to your stomach when you’re around them.
About 10 days ago the woman--let’s call her Kathy--said with mild perturbation that husband John was having a midlife crisis and thought he wasn’t appealing any more. She pooh-poohed it, because he’s still a good-looking guy in his late 40s who she adores.
Two days ago, she phoned. Gone was any air of lightness about their situation.
She said they’d had lunch since our first call and that she had asked him, almost offhandedly, if their marriage was in trouble. “I thought he’d say, ‘No, of course not,’ ” she said. “Instead he said, ‘I don’t know if it is or not.’ ”
As anyone who’s ever heard those words can attest, your life changes at that moment.
It’s like thinking you’ve been married to one person only to have them suddenly throw off a false layer of skin and say, “Ta-da, here’s the new me! I hope you like it.”
But that was just the first jolt. The second was that John realized he was the adult child of an alcoholic. With that awareness has come his desire to re-investigate his entire life, with the accompanying solemn message to Kathy being that he can’t make any promises about anything, including staying married.
Sensing her world was about to do a slow crumble, Kathy dashed around trying to catch the bricks as they fell upon her.
Let me guess, I said, you’re scared to death.
“I’d say the two predominant emotions are fear and anger,” she said. “But I’m trying to suppress the anger.”
She fought off the impulse to tell him to pack a bag and get out. The intellectual side of her acknowledges the reality of the Adult Children of Alcoholics syndrome and wants him to come to grips with it. The emotional side--the side that has been gored by his disclosures--is in free fall.
So far, her intellect has won out. She’s decided to see if she can ride out the crisis, knowing the anguish that may be ahead.
Seeking some solace, I called a psychologist who’s worked with people at just such pivotal junctures in their life.
Jane Myers Drew, an Irvine psychologist and author of a new book, “Where Were You When I Needed You, Dad?” said such seemingly traumatic experiences can be helpful for both spouses.
“Her husband is on a path and he needs to follow up, but it’s important that his wife stay connected to him by sharing what’s going on with her, not just stand back and let this person go out on this path,” Drew said. “She doesn’t have control over her husband; he’s got sovereignty in his life, but (it’s important) that she not step back so far that she’s not part of the process.”
She should let her husband know how she’s reacting to the upheaval, not in a burdensome way, but openly and forthrightly. She can also use the trauma to call on some past experiences in her life and, potentially, draw strength from them.
The important thing for the spouse who gets the jolt, whether it’s the man or woman, is not to panic and overreact, Drew said. “It sounds like she’s really been caught off-guard by this, but he hasn’t changed. He just has a label now and he can see himself through a different lens and he can learn more about himself.”
American society celebrates youth and beauty. Fears about aging are common, Drew said. “She could say, “Tell me what it’s like for you, let’s talk about it. I want to understand what it’s like for you to feel older and that you don’t look quite the same way you did 10 years ago. Tell me about it.’ It’s not hand-holding and it’s not denial, but it’s being there and listening and understanding.”
For now, that’s Kathy’s strategy. Weather the storm, fight the good fight--all those cliches that sound so puny when it’s your marriage on the line.
After I hung up with Kathy the other day, I wasn’t sure whether I’d said anything that made sense to her. I thought I knew her husband, but I didn’t see this coming.
I’ll relay to her Drew’s assertion that an unhappy ending isn’t inevitable, that this can be the start of a deeper understanding between them.
I hope Kathy will believe that. What I won’t tell her is that her news was such a shocker that it makes me wonder whether you can trust anything or anybody.
At this moment, there’s only one thing I am sure of: There’s too much pain in the world.
Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, Calif. 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.
