Dear Bel,
I’m 60 and have been married to my husband for nearly 40 years.
We’ve had our ups and downs like anyone, but always been close – we raised two children, worked hard and enjoyed simple things like gardening, days out and watching old films together.
But over the past few years, it feels like I’ve completely lost him – not to another woman, but to politics. He’s utterly obsessed.
Morning, noon and night, the TV is tuned to rolling news. He reads endless articles online, argues with strangers on social media and sends long emails to our MP. It’s become the only thing he talks about.
At first, I thought it was just a passing phase. Everyone gets wound up about the world sometimes. But it’s taken over our lives.
If I try to talk about something normal – what to cook for dinner, the grandchildren, a TV show – he turns it into a political point. Everything becomes an argument. He raises his voice while I just sit there feeling drained.
When friends come over, I hold my breath hoping he won’t start. But he always does. All he can talk about is politics. People make excuses not to come back – and I don’t blame them. Even our daughter has started saying she doesn’t want to bring the kids round because he rants to them.
He’s angry all the time. I don’t recognise the man I married – the gentle, funny person who used to dance with me in the kitchen. Now, it’s just bitterness and shouting at the TV.
I’ve tried talking to him calmly about it, but he brushes me off and says I’m being ridiculous. I’m not – I just want peace. I want my husband back.
What can I do? Is it possible to get him to see how damaging this obsession has become – or is this just what the rest of our life together is going to look like?
AMY
‘He’s angry all the time. I don’t recognise the man I married – the gentle, funny person who used to dance with me in the kitchen. Now, it’s just bitterness and shouting at the TV,’ writes Amy
Bel Mooney replies: This is such an interesting problem letter – a first for this column. I’m used to women writing in pain because they are losing their husbands to affairs, or sometimes drink or porn, or occasionally to depression over the loss of a job or other life change. But politics? No.
I’m glad you don’t give details about what subjects in particular get him going, and leave me guessing as to whether he’s on the Right or the Left. Because it doesn’t really matter.
Even if you feel naturally aligned with his political slant, you don’t want extreme politics of any sort rammed down your throat all the time, do you?
I’ve known people like this and end up finding them really boring. Please don’t get the wrong impression here; I’ve always been interesting in politics, started life reporting on events as various as strikes and community action, as well as big issues such as abortion, health and poverty the length and breath of the land. I’d rather read about politics than fashion or beauty any day.
How we are governed, how our schools and health service are run, crime, immigration, social cohesion… such matters are of inestimable importance to all of us and it’s hardly surprising that people have opinions.
As somebody who has voted for three different parties since I was 21 (now there’s a sensible voting age!), I’m still prepared to have an open mind. But ranting is boring – as well as deeply selfish. Your husband’s obsession is ruining your life, and that makes it completely unacceptable. Nevertheless, it’s hard to know what to do.
You say you’ve tried to talk to him, but since he won’t listen I have to ask you just how determined these ‘tries’ have been.
When he calls you ‘ridiculous’, do you take it and retreat? Are you tough enough to tell him you are not ‘ridiculous’ and that you’re about to wage war on the fixation that’s ruining your life?
Since your husband hasn’t always been like this, I’m sure his rage must be inflamed by social media. This is the widespread pollutant in our world. Arguing with strangers on Facebook is something I’ve been guilty of myself, to my daughter’s despair. She left the platform three years ago and feels totally liberated as a result.
But obviously your husband isn’t going to give up his obsession, so have you thought of secretly getting hold of his phone and hiding it? It just might be a short sharp shock to begin your campaign against his rants.
Because there has to be one.
I’m usually a conciliator but your husband has passed beyond that stage and needs to be told – in no uncertain terms.
It’s colossally unfair for him to hog the TV, dominate conversation and make you embarrassed in from of friends and family.
So I honestly think you need to match his aggression (about current affairs) with some of your own (about how boring he’s become).
In your place I would start going out as much as possible – and not leave him supper. Let him fend for himself. If you only have one TV in the house, buy another cheap one and set it up in the bedroom or spare room and tell him that’s where he will be viewing.
Do what’s necessary – even threatening to leave.
How can you possible accept that the current situation is how your future will be?
My ‘lucky dip’ lovers want me to move in
Dear Bel,
Fifteen months ago, I happened to meet a lesbian couple, Lynn (30) and Annie (41). They were temporarily in my area and there was an instant attraction – they were great fun.
So it started as a threesome with great sex over three nights. Then I was invited to stay with them for a weekend. They live 86 miles away but I went and it was great.
Now this has been continuing every month since then. But the last time I went it turned out differently. They told me: ‘We are going to separate bedrooms tonight, so you must choose one of the rooms and see who is there!’
That first night, it was Annie. We had sex and then slept together all night. The next night, I got Lynn. At breakfast on Sunday, we chatted and they said they had an offer for me – would I like to move in with them?
I was taken aback as we are from different backgrounds. We all get on and I have real feelings for both of them.
They say I could work in their business (in the holiday industry) with a proper wage and live with them board free.
I’d have my bedroom but would be expected to join them and invite either of them to join me when all are in the mood.
I think it could work despite it not being usual. My life needs a new start but my best friend thinks I’m crazy and warns it won’t provide a happy ending. But what have I got to lose? Or am I missing something? What would you say?
JADE
My first response was that all this sounds like rather good fun. For some reason, my first reading put me in mind of the jolly boarding school japes I read about as a child in comics such as Girl and School Friend – though they didn’t ever end up in the bedroom, of course.
If that had happened, ‘The Silent Three’ wouldn’t have been very silent!
The point is, Jade, you are fancy free and can do what you like, since you don’t have a partner. So why not enjoy this interesting situation?
You don’t say how old you are, but your strange comment about difference in backgrounds is suggesting to me that you feel less ‘posh’ and successful than the couple, rather than the other way around. Does any of this matter?
Let’s consider why your best friend might think moving in with the couple a bad idea. I suspect she thinks you might be exploited by the more powerful couple and end up unhappy.
Their decision to play a sort of hide and seek sex game (‘Ooh… just who will be in the bedroom I pick?’) with you is all very well, but you weren’t given much choice about whether or not you wanted to go along with it, were you? They played threesomes, then ‘lucky dip’ twosomes, and you accepted their exciting control.
Surprising sex between consenting adults can be very exciting, especially on one weekend a month.
But what would it be like to up sticks, move in with them and accept a job in their company? I can see exactly why your bestie will be worrying that it will all end in tears. You don’t mention your current job, or whether you are happy in work and where you live; all you say is that you feel like a ‘new start.’
The trouble is, that new start could (in a worst-case scenario) mark the end to your freedom. Annie and Lynn would control your employment and at the same time you ‘would be expected’ to play whatever sex games they wanted, whenever they chose.
They would be firmly in charge, and it worries me that the day could come when they pick up a new and willing young woman in a bar and decide she is sexier than you are.
What then? It wouldn’t matter with the current arrangement. But if they were treating you as a plaything in their home who had suddenly got a bit boring… well, then you might be very hurt and (worse, actually) homeless.
Look, I’m a cautious kind of person, like your best friend. You could be at the start of an adventure. But do be careful.
And finally: I’m not going to reply with bland fibs…
Last week, as well as the main letter, I featured two shorter ones. The emails were brief and my replies could be to the point – because the questions were, in essence, fairly uncomplicated.
Sadly, some people can be determined to cling to unhappiness.
‘Chrissie’ wrote to tell me ‘I am not sexually attracted to the man I am dating’, ending her email: ‘Should I end it?’
So I suggested she consider how she would feel if a man dated her in bad faith, said that the reasons (for no sex) she gave him were ‘perfectly sensible’ but advised her to put honesty first, and so (by implication) end it.
I was rather surprised to hear back from her objecting to my ‘scathing, unkind tone’, telling me that none of the reasons she listed ‘make me a bad person’ (which I didn’t suggest!).
She ended: ‘I hope you can find it in you to respond with kindness to people who write in the future.’
What? Regular readers will know how compassionate I can be, but being ‘kind’ doesn’t mean mooing, ‘Oh, you poor thing’ to people. That would be lazy and dishonest.
The second ‘short’ was from a lady upset that her late father’s ‘partner’ has taken over his funeral. I replied that being angry won’t bring him back so she should remember him with love – and just mourn.
But she wrote back suggesting I don’t ‘understand our point of view’ and supplying more details that weren’t in her first letter. But they make no difference to my opinion.
The cremation is very soon, she cannot change things, so what on earth is the point of being bitter?
Those ladies wanted some sort of affirmation of their misery, rather than any thoughtful, honest answer.
But I’m sorry, I won’t tell bland fibs.
