For five years, she believed she was living with her husband, but it turned out she longed to live with him as she had with her mother.
Mary came from a small English village. It was there that Cupids arrow found her. She fell in love with Charles, and he with her. Together, they decided to leave their quiet corner of England. They told their families they were heading to London to earn money for their wedding. And indeed, to the city they went, hoping to save up enough. But then it dawned on them that spending all their hard-earned pounds on a grand wedding was unnecessary.
They did as was the fashion then: married in their trainers and jeans, asked for monetary gifts only, and exchanged a traditional feast for a modest buffet. The money from gifts all went into paying off their mortgage, for which theyd taken a loan.
Nevertheless, when they returned home, their mothers threw a humble celebration for them in the village hall.
Five years slipped by. The young couple decided to wait before having children, instead focusing on repaying their mortgage, as the wedding gifts hadnt covered it all. Marys mother, a determined woman who had raised her daughter alone, never failed to remind Mary with every phone call that she was very much looking forward to becoming a grandmother. Yet Mary didnt feel ready for motherhood. Time was on their side, so the pair felt in no particular rush.
Suddenly, though, Mary started finding fault with Charles over things that had always niggled her, though she had kept them to herself before. She rang me up and said:
He spends ages chatting to others on the phone, but with me, its just hello and goodbye and thats it
When he gets in from work, youll have plenty of time to talk, I replied.
Id like to watch a romantic film in the evening, but he only ever wants to stare at horror shows.
How many televisions do you have? Surely, these days, you can watch something on your laptop with headphones on. But sitting next to each other, both gazing in different directions, doesnt quite feel like family life, does it?
I think exactly the same! she exclaimed. I dont think Charles understands me at all!
Thats quite the claim, I said.
Why are you laughing?
Oh, pay it no mind. Mary, tell me, when do you and Charles have the most fun together?
When were on holiday, or when we have guests over Hes so attentive then
My conversation with Mary lasted nearly an hour. She told me how they had met and how every girl in the village envied her. From our talk, I gathered the real trouble was that Mary held an unfulfilled need to show off to others. That was the first issue, and the second
Mary, how do you imagine the ideal marriage?
It should, of course, include children.
Yes, people often say that, but in reality, children sometimes unravel a marriage
My husband should take interest in my mood, in how Im doing at work. He ought to notice my dress, compliment my cooking
Doesnt he appreciate these things?
He says its nice, but it just doesnt feel like enough.
Tell me in detail He comes home, you serve him, say, mashed potatoes with a chop, and then?
He starts rubbing his hands and grinning.
But thats its own kind of compliment! I imagine youd feel far worse if he pushed the plate away and said he wasnt hungry
At this, Mary fell silent; I dont think she truly understood the heart of her grievance. Yet, in some way, she was still dissatisfied with her husband. I wondered for some time what was at the root of her discontent. To test my theory, I questioned her about her relationship with her mother.
I learned her mother was a fiery soul always fussing with questions and opinions but quick to reassure Mary things would turn out well when times grew rough.
Its sometimes said we marry those who mirror our parents, or who promise us endless love. Mary had no father, so she hadnt learned that not everyone expresses themselves as openly as her mother.
At last, I told Mary that for five years shed been married not so much to her husband as to a memory of her mother expecting Charles to act just as her mother always had. At first, Mary found the idea surprising, but after some thought, she agreed.
So, how do I divorce myself from my mother? she asked with a wry laugh.
Its simple. Every time you find yourself disgruntled, just remind yourself it isnt Charless fault its the shadow of your loving, attentive mother standing by your side. And Charles can’t compete with that!
Thats exactly it!
Thats all there is to it! Then, youll see the resentment will vanish on its own.From then on, whenever the old pang of disappointment crept in, Mary would catch herself smiling picturing her mothers voice echoing just beyond the kitchen door, the scent of nostalgia blending with the aroma of dinner on the stove. She didnt scold herself for these moments anymore. Instead, she let them pass by like a weather front, always leaving a brighter sky behind.
One evening, Charles paused in the hallway, holding a battered suitcase and a bouquet of wildflowers from a city market. Thought you might like these saw them on my way home, he said, an awkward grin on his face.
Mary felt the familiar longing rise in her chest, but this time, she took his offering, her arms winding around him. Thank you, she whispered. Theyre beautiful.
It wasnt her mothers kind of compliment, no, but it was his sincere, simple, enough.
Later, they sat side by side on the sofa. She pressed play on a film not a sweeping romance, but a silly comedy. Charles laughed too loudly, and she found herself laughing with him, their heads leaning together, the room glowing warm.
As night wrapped itself around their house, Mary realized: she wasnt searching for home anymore. Home was already here, messy and imperfect and quietly blooming, just like the wildflowers on the table. And at last, her heart felt like hers again.
