Letting go of toxic ties
When things don’t work out, why do couples still stick together?
iRECENTLY attended a dinner party, where I met a woman who made her husband’s evening miserable by nagging him almost all the time.
“Don’t slouch,” she said in a pseudo whisper loud enough to be heard in Outer Mongolia, after they’d been seated at the table for barely a few minutes.
He shrugged and smiled apologetically at the other guests around the table, as if to say, “Yep, I’m married to a member of the Slouch Gestapo, but please don’t hold it against me!”
“Don’t drink so quickly,” she said, a few minutes later, as soon as he had taken a few sips of his wine.
He responded by taking a large, defiant swig from his glass.
“You know what happens when you drink too much?” she continued.
He responded with another swig, excused himself and went to the bathroom – taking his glass with him.
I’m not sure, other than getting drunk, what happens to the poor man when he drinks too much, but it obviously doesn’t entail uxoricide (the act of killing one’s wife).
While he was in the bathroom, his wife regaled everyone with a tale of her husband’s ineptitude. It seems that he recently went shopping in one of Penang’s shopping malls, and when he returned to his car with his purchases, he couldn’t open the car door. He eventually deduced that there was something wrong with his car’s remote control.
He called his wife and asked her to come to the shopping mall with a spare key, which she agreed to do, but only after having to give up some hugely important activity, like launching National Tiger Day, or adopting an orphaned baby whale, or donating all 10 of her kidneys to Indian nationals who had been conned out of their entire renal systems by a dubious doctor, who later sold them to rich Americans for a small fortune.
Or at least, that’s the impression she gave. But I digress. When she arrived at the shopping mall’s car park, she found her husband standing next to a strange car. It was the same model and colour as his car, but the registration number was different.
Everyone around the table, including myself, laughed at this story, probably because we’ve all made a similar sort of mistake at some time or another. But the woman took our collective response as a sign of encouragement and began relating another story about her Walter Mitty-like husband.
I began to feel decidedly uncomfortable, and was relieved when her husband finally emerged from the bathroom, with an empty wine glass.
“I’ve just been telling everyone about your little mix up in the car park,” she announced.
He smiled sheepishly and sat down at the table.
Obviously sensing his discomfort, our hostess made to pour him another glass of wine.
“He’s had enough,” said his wife, as she placed her hand over the top of his glass.
Walter merely gave another well-practised, apologetic smile and began examining the pattern on his dinner plate.
At the end of the evening, the other couples at the table probably went home and said something like, “Wasn’t that awful? I’m glad our relationship isn’t like that.”
I’ve seen other couples like Walter and the Gestapo Lady; people whose relationships haven’t worked for a gazillion years and who are slowly poisoning themselves and just about everyone they encounter. Once upon a time, they were probably happy, but somewhere along the way, something happened to change the dynamics of the relationship.
Walter certainly isn’t happy, and I’m sure the Gestapo Lady would also be a lot better off with someone who doesn’t irritate her at every turn.
“Then why do they stay together?” you might ask.
I can’t speak for all couples clinging to a failed relationship, but I suspect many of them stay together out of fear. They can’t fix their relationship, but they are too afraid to move on.
It’s a big bad world out there, and there’s a possibility that they might not find someone else who trips their trigger. They might end up old and alone, silently watching the liver spots expanding on the back of their hands, eating dinner for one and clambering into a bed in which they can lie diagonally, if they choose.
At least, that’s how people who are afraid might think.
If only they could see the endless possibilities that are available to all of us, even when you are a born-again single. There will always be new people to meet, chance encounters that could lead to romance, places to see, hobbies to take up, and many other horizons to expand.
As far as I’m concerned, the only nag that we should gladly put up with comes with a saddle and winning disposition.
Find Mary Schneider on Facebook at mary.schneider.writer. Write to her at star2@thestar.com.my.