14 March
Sometimes I wonder if I ever truly understood what marriage was meant to be. For the last five years, I believed I was living with my husband, but perhaps I simply wanted to be with him the way I was with my mother.
I grew up in a quiet village in the English countryside, where everyone knows each other and news flies faster than the wind. Thats where I met Williama boy with a crooked smile and kind eyes. We fell for each other quickly, so much so that leaving felt natural, almost inevitable. We told our parents we were off to London to save for a wedding, and although that was partly true, we never quite had the heartor moneyfor a grand affair.
We did as young couples do these days. We got married in trainers and jeans, guests handed us cards with cash (no endless toasters!), and instead of a proper reception we set up a little buffet at our flat. Every pound we received went straight into the mortgage. Still, to keep our mums happy, we let them organise a cosy dinner back home.
Five years have flown by. No children yet; neither of us felt in a rush. Every month, we chipped away dutifully at the mortgage, as it had soaked up more than every wedding gift we got. My own mum, strong-willed and a bit fiery, raised me alone, and she never missed a chance to say how ready she was to be a grandmother. But not metheres no feeling of time slipping past, so we carry on as we are.
Lately, Ive found myself resenting William more and moreniggling things that bothered me before but I managed to keep in check. This morning, I called my friend Sophie to vent.
He spends ages chatting on the phone with mates, but with me its always a quick Hi, bye and thats that
Sophie tried to reassure me. Youll have plenty of time to talk once hes home from work.
But thats just itwhen hes back, I want to watch a feel-good romance together, and all he ever wants is some ghastly horror film.
How many TVs do you have? Or use headphones and a laptopthough its not much of a family life if youre sitting side by side staring at separate screens.
Thats exactly it! I dont think William even understands me, I snapped.
Sophie chuckled lightly, Helena, when do you two have the most fun together?
When were on holiday or visiting friends Hes so attentive then.
The conversation carried on for almost an hour. I told her how we met, how other girls envied me. But as we spoke, I realised something: part of me just wanted someone to show me off, make a fuss over me. Thats one problem. The other is harder to admit.
Sophie asked, Helena, in your mind, what does a perfect marriage look like?
I suppose children are a must.
Most people say that, she mused, but having kids can also tear couples apart
She pressed me. What else? What makes a good partner to you?
I want William to care about how Im feeling, to take an interest in my day. I want him to notice my outfits, compliment my cooking
Doesnt he appreciate it?
Hell say its nice, but I need more than nice.
Walk me through it. When he comes home, and you serve dinnerwhat happens? Lets say its mash and sausageswhat does he do?
He rubs his hands together and grins.
But thats a kind of compliment! Wouldnt it be worse if he pushed the plate away and said he wasnt hungry?
I fell silent. Maybe I didnt really understand what I was upset about. All I knew was that I felt let down, but I struggled to say exactly why. Sophie must have sensed it, because she steered the conversation toward my mum.
She reminded me that Mum was always quick with a questionsometimes a bit much, but she was endlessly encouraging when things went wrong. People say we marry someone who reminds us of our parentsor at least someone who fills the empty spaces left behind. My dad was never around, so I never learned how to interpret a quieter love. William isnt like my mumhe wont overwhelm me with affection and chatter.
Gently, Sophie pointed out that, for five years, Id been looking for my mother in my marriage. I wanted William to fuss over me the way she used to. At first, I bristled at the idea, but thinking about it, I realised it was true.
So, how do I break away from needing my mum in my marriage?
Its simple, really, Sophie coached. Each time you start picking at William, picture your mum by your side insteadand remind yourself, hes not competing with her. He cant.
Thats just it!
Exactly. When you see it that way, I bet those little resentments will simply fade.
Heartfelt advicethough I wonder if Ill manage it. Maybe one day Ill write about this and laugh. For now, Ill try to stop expecting William to be my mum. Perhaps then, I can let us both be ourselves.
