Sometimes, divorce is the kindest cut
What is the secret to a long and happy marriage? Never wanting to get divorced at the same time. Boom-tish!
If you are flinching at my apparent cynicism, then you are clearly a dewy-eyed young bride, which is fine and just as it should be; remember, nobody tells pregnant women the unvarnished truth about childbirth, either.
Hard though it might be to fathom at the age of 20, by 40 you understand how it’s perfectly possible to absolutely love someone and completely loathe them simultaneously (see Schrödinger’s cat for details).
It’s also a fact of life that some marriages can make one partner so deeply unhappy, they see no option but to divorce. Should the law really stand in their way?
This week, no fewer than five Supreme Court Justices turned down an appeal by Tini Owens, 68, to legally separate from her 80-year-old husband, Hugh, after 40 years of marriage.
Why? Because she refused to exaggerate or lie about his behaviour. Our current system is predicated on blame; it demands proof of the unreasonable behaviour that led to the breakdown of a marriage.
It seems crazy, here in 2018, that sadness, loneliness and even intense feelings of dislike or hostility are not viewed as acceptable reasons to dissolve a marriage. But in the courtroom, they simply don’t count.
The Gloucestershire couple are wealthy, having built up a £5milliona-year mushroom-growing business and amassed three homes in Britain and one in France. When Hugh refused to grant Tini a divorce, she took the legal route.
I’m no expert, but even to my ears her case sounded feeble. In fact, I can only imagine how her QC must have reacted when all she could come up with were arguments about recycling, departure-lounge bickering over what present to buy for the housekeeper (the very definition of a First World Problem), and the fact he had a booming voice and patronised her.
Swap “housekeeper” for “his mother” and you have a snapshot of just about every 40-year marriage in the land. Presumably having a housekeeper obviated the need for furious outbursts over stacking the dishwasher incorrectly (a big bugbear chez nous) and taciturn seething because someone used up the last of the milk. Again.
But we all know how these tiny annoyances can add up into one enormous grievance. Moreover, if mutual respect has gone, and with it affection, tenderness and conversation, then all is lost. As Che Guevara once observed: silence is argument carried out by other means.
Tini and Hugh, who have two adult sons, no longer live together and instead occupy houses next door to each other. She consulted her lawyers about splitting up in 2012, the same year she had a 10-month affair.
Her husband forgave her, but three years later she filed for divorce. Since then, she has pursued every possible avenue to obtain one. Now Tini must wait two more years before her marriage can legally end without Hugh’s consent.
He has always stubbornly refused to divorce on the bizarre grounds they have learned to “rub along“and “still have a few years of old age together”. There’s delusion for you.
She finds him cruel, he finds her intense. So who benefits from the continuation of their loveless union? Nobody, apart from their lawyers.
The judges have described Hugh as “old-school” and Tini as “more sensitive than most wives”, desiccated language that reeks of institutionalised patriarchy.
But these very judges also spoke of their unease at having to dismiss her appeal and, even as they passed judgment, suggested that Parliament should consider amending the law to enable individuals to end their marriages without having to resort to futile court battles.
It was once feared that the fabric of society would be torn asunder by the introduction of no-fault divorce. Right now, it looks like the least worst option.
Forcing warring couples to stay together makes no sense whatsoever. Aside from the symbolism of the decree absolute, it seems wholly punitive to expect the unhappy party to wait five years before the division of marital assets can begin.
Does Tini live next door to Hugh because she can’t afford to move elsewhere? Or is it a matter of principle to stay put? Is Hugh on some sort of power trip? Or does he truly believe their wreck of a relationship is salvageable?
All I can say is that even staying happily married for decades can be a slog. So much compromise. So few Tiffany boxes. You will end up buying all his underpants. They will come from M&S. He will stop noticing… everything.
But as long as you can occasionally laugh – at yourself, with each other – you’ll make it. Just don’t tell the bride.
The heart is a complex thing and relationships between Mars and Venus are bound to be tumultuous, not least because scientists have just discovered his still waters run 12 miles deep (and she’s sharp as a razor, obviously).
I can understand why many a coup de foudre ends with a coup de grâce, although my husband and I are now so gloriously compatible in bed – his snoring is matched by my fidgeting – that it would be a waste of memory foam if we split up.
Aside from the prenup brigade, nobody plans ahead for divorce when they marry. That’s why we pledge to stay together “for better, for worse”.
But sometimes, when there is no better and the worst is getting worse, a no-fault divorce is by far the kindest course of action.