I am honestly at a loss as to what is happening. By all accounts, I am a great husband, partner, collaborator….whatever descriptor someone could use. When we started this journey, I committed to working on this thing called marriage. I didn't know what exactly that would entail, but in general, working is one of the best traits I have. As a human being I fully believe in the ability to grow, change, learn, and adapt, whether that is for the people around me, my job, or my perception of reality. Whatever it is, I will work at it.
For a long time, I was led to believe that I was the main character in our life. I make a lot of decisions because I'm the sole breadwinner. We discuss everything, but I'm seen as the ultimate decision maker, and the decisions I made created problems. They were and are general life decisions. When we have the money to do this thing or that. Where we should go for vacation, how soon we can start a project….all the things I think couples typically bicker about. The unhappiness, my partner's unhappiness, was my fault because I'm the main character.
So I changed. I worked. I changed many things about myself, how we communicate, how I support, when I'm available, where I bend, how we partnered, and on and on. Nothing improved. The number of tense moments seemed to increase over time.
Then one day, I found out there was someone else. That was months after I found out she was no longer attracted to me. I had already committed myself to a lack of intimacy before I found out about this other person. I consider myself to be an understanding person and figured it's ok if my partner needs space. Marriage is a joint venture, and I can respect the needs of my better half.
Now, two years later, I'm hearing that life is misery without this person. That I became unattractive years ago after our second child. Why is it such a big deal to be "friends" with this other person, she asks. Maybe you can just find a friend who's like me to replace what you're missing. What do you think that would look like, she asks. When I ask, what do you think that would look like she responds, "I don't know, I've never really thought about it".
I'm told "no one understands me the way you do and I don't think I could find what we have in someone else. You've always let me be me and I feel comfortabl and I love that", followed by "which is why it's so confusing for me that you won't let me talk to this person, this friend". She remembers, "we were never going to get married. It only happened because it needed to happen", and I ask, "do you remember telling me we should stop seeing each other if we weren't going to marry?" No, she does not. She says, "it angers me to see the way your friends treat you", and I reply, "how is the way you're treating me justified?" She doesn't know. "I guess it's different because we're married". Well, what is marriage? "I don't know".
I'm not the main character. I can't be when the other person seems to be rewriting the story to fit their own narrative. I am building the stage that is someone's life. I'm a friend to fill the time between texts and meetings with the "friend". I'm the director for all the other actors, helping with cues and lines. What I am not is the writer or the lead. At least in my marriage.