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Susan swears it wasn't an affair even though there was another man involved. It was, rather, an epiphany. And the other man? The plumber. The plumber came to fix a leaky faucet and she offered him a coffee. When they sat across from each other at the kitchen table, she talked about her life and he listened and seemed to find what she had to say interesting. He laughed at her jokes and she felt alive for the first time in a very long time. And then he left. That was all. But that was enough.
Later that afternoon, she made up her mind, "I can't do this anymore." She told Bill when he came home from work, "Bill, it's over." He was dumbfounded. He'd heard her complaints over the year but didn't take them that seriously. He thought all wives complain. He doesn't drink, he's not a womanizer, he doesn't gamble, he'd never laid a hand on her, he's home every evening, he's a good provider. Why?!?
For years she'd been trying to get his attention. Weekends, he needed to recover from his brutal week at work. He didn't want to go shopping with her. As much as he loves his kids, he didn't want to go to the zoo. He was desperate to relax and unwind. Plus, he'd brought some work home from the office.
She never understood the pressure he felt being the primary breadwinner for the family, having all that responsibility on his head. He was working like a dog to try to get ahead and sock away some security so they could have some fun. But that was for later. Much later - when he would retire. And she just couldn't wait anymore.
And then there was the issue of sex. It had long ago become a tug-of-war with him wanting more and her wanting to be left alone. He'd look across the bed at her sleeping form in the middle of the night and feel hungry, wishing he could be spontaneous and wake her up but knowing that she'd be angry and shut him down. It was humiliating for him to feel like a beggar with his own wife. It hadn't always been like that, at least not before the kids came.
On her side, she walked around feeling guilty, counting the days until she knew she'd better make time for sex or else it would cause a problem. And then, when they did it, she'd feel off the hook for a week or so, until the pressure between them built up again. She felt he didn't understand what was important to her. If only he'd be romantic, bring her a little gift or flowers, make time for her, she'd be more in the mood. Hell, even if he helped more with the kids or the housework, she'd find it easier to get turned on. But she felt resentful that he wanted her to do all the work, run the show and also to be sexy and please him.
He knew she didn't understand how important sex was for him. It wasn't just the orgasm part, it was the human contact that calmed him down and helped him feel normal so he could concentrate on work. She didn't know how distracted he could become in those long days before their infrequent sexual encounters and how it affected everything - his mood, his sleep, and even his performance at work. He hated himself for that - it made him feel like an animal - but there was no way around it. He needed sex to feel sane, to feel like a man.
Over the years, she had wanted them to go to marriage counselling but he thought it was a waste of money. Nothing was that wrong - they should try to fix it themselves. And they would try to be kinder to each other, to go out to a movie, but the resentment was just below the surface and those efforts would never last. By the time she said, "It's over," her feelings for him had dripped away until there was nothing left. She knew he was a good man and she didn't want to hurt him, but she was suffocating inside, longing for someone to talk to her, for someone to laugh with her, for someone to find her interesting and show her love. She knew Bill loved her, but it wasn't enough and once the fire had gone out in her, no amount of blowing on it could spark it up again.
So when the plumber left, she took a long hard look at herself in the mirror and realized that she wanted more out of life, that she had some good years left and that she'd reached the end of the road with Bill.
Now it was his turn to beg to go to marriage counselling. He quickly found the name of someone to see and made an emergency appointment. In the therapist's office, he told her he finally realized now how unhappy and lonely she'd been, raising the kids with him in the background. He got it now. He'll change. He meant it. But the session only served to convince her that the man sitting on the other side of the sofa was virtually a stranger and not a man she could ever desire again. It was too late.
So this is a cautionary tale. To you married men out there, take it seriously when your wife tells you that she's unhappy and needs something more. Turn to her, look her in the eye and say this, "Tell me what's on your mind." Don't immediately defend yourself or brush it off or give instant solutions. Look at her and listen to her and think to yourself, "This is important. I don't want to be like Bill."
And you married women out there, you have a role to play in helping your husband understand your frustration, but also to try to understand his reality, as well. If he doesn't listen, find a way to say it in a tone that he's more likely to respond to. He will tune you out if you talk to him only with irritation and annoyance. Reach out to him and let him know that you appreciate all he does for the family. When he feels you see his efforts, he'll be more likely to be open to your concerns.
I'm a marriage counsellor and it breaks my heart when Bill and Susan come to my office because I know that if they'd crossed my threshold a few years earlier, their marriage could have had a different outcome. A happier one, plumber or no plumber.
