LETTER OF THE WEEK

Dear Richard Dear Richard

I’m a happily married 45-year-old mother of three. For the past 15 years I have been the family’s main breadwinner.

Almost 20 years ago, before we had children, my husband (then boyfriend) quit his job to pursue his dream of becoming a screenwriter. At that time, I wholly supported his decision (and supported him financially). Sadly, his dream has not yet been fulfilled. He has done some freelance writing while being a hands-on, stay-athome father ( for which I am very grateful) while I pursued a successful career.

The trouble is that I have grown tired of my job and disillusioned with my industry, and I want to change tack and train as a primary schoolteacher before I am too old. But whenever I discuss it with my husband, he says we can’t afford for me to give up my well-paid job.

The children are now all at secondary school and I have suggested that he look for full-time, but he says he can’t at his age. I love my husband dearly but I feel completely trapped in a job I don’t like. Please advise!

MARY, VIA EMAIL

Dear Mary

A lot of tangled emotion here. I detect growing tension between you both. Hardly surprising: no one’s marriage runs indefinitely along straight, unswerving tracks. You’ve reached a major junction marking the end of your first, defining journey together. Time to change trains. You get that, and you aren’t frightened by it. He doesn’t, and is.

So let’s start with him. On the face of it, he’s being selfish, unreasonable and ungrateful. Yet you say you love him and you’re grateful to him. Let’s see if we can unpick what’s going on in his head.

I reckon he’s had just enough success to keep those screenwriting ambitions alive. Now the children are growing up he probably reckons this is his final chance to give it one last shot. The prospect of abandoning the dream for a nine-to-five job fills him with dread.

Why can’t he explain any of this to you? I suspect he’s embarrassed by failure, so the lame “I’m too old for a regular job” is the best he can come up with. But he has no right to tread on your dreams.

Even if he starts by pushing trolleys around a warehouse, he owes you.

Now you. Let’s be fair: is it possible your husband found more fulfilment bringing up the kids than you realised? Might you have unconsciously envied him a little? It’s interesting that you find yourself wanting to work with children now.

But be that as it may: after 20 years at the coal face, you’ve had enough. You have a dream of your own – and why shouldn’t you? For two decades you encouraged him to chase his ambition. It’s completely reasonable to expect him to return the favour.

Gently encourage him to share his real reasons for resisting. Offer a compromise – suggest a part-time job to begin with that brings in some money but allows him to write as well. But let’s be clear, Mary – you don’t need this man’s permission to quit a job that makes you feel miserable. You’re not his wage slave.

If I’m honest I can’t help wondering if he’s secretly jealous at the prospect of you fulfilling your aspirations when he’s failed more or less completely in his own.

If so, it’s the basis of a cracking psychological screenplay. Maybe he should start writing it. see it in this way, your sense of resentment will fade. Stay in touch but don’t feed their victimhood. If they bring up the issue, reassure them as best you can and change the subject. Next year, invite them on the trip as usual. If they accept, you’ll know that time has healed the problem. But if they refuse, and still bang on about imagined slights and insults, I’m afraid you will have learned a sad but timeless lesson. Not all friendships last forever. The Spice Girls got that wrong.

Dear Richard

Ever since my wife died some years ago I’ve been a regular at my local pub.

The barmaid is a beautiful Eurasian woman considerably younger than me. I won’t deny I have fallen for her. While I am no Robert Redford I am fit, mentally active, solvent and have a good sense of humour. She is always friendly and kind towards me and we have a lot of laughs together. I would like to invite her out for lunch, just as a friendly act, though I can’t pretend I would say no to something more. But I don’t want her to be distressed or embarrassed – nor recoil from me in horror, I suppose. What should I do?

WILLIAM, GLAMORGAN

Dear William

We live in a universe of infinite possibilities, so I suppose it’s just conceivable this woman has written to another agony columnist, seeking advice on asking you out. But you know what, William? I really don’t think she has. Neither do you.

Your description of the relationship is revealing. “Friendly and kind… a lot of laughs.” Doesn’t sound like a budding romance to me, I’m afraid. It sounds like what it is – a pleasant, innocent friendship between an older man and younger woman.

And remember it’s part of her job to engage with customers. Has she ever given you the slightest sign she’s interested in romance? If she had – and the age difference isn’t necessarily of consequence; lots of happy couples are a generation or so apart – I think you might have mentioned it.

I think she genuinely likes you, her charming, humorous regular – but that’s as far as it goes. Meanwhile, you’ve obviously become infatuated with her. It’s an imbalance that will be awkwardly exposed if you ask her out. I don’t believe she’ll be horrified, but she’ll probably be embarrassed and your friendship will suffer.

So vary your routine. Try other pubs. Mix with more people your own age, if you can. Trust me, William: if she was interested in taking things further, you’d know it. But I don’t really need to tell you that, do I? That’s why you wrote to me, isn’t it? To confirm what you already know, deep down.