After marrying 14 years ago, my wife and I moved to my home area to be closer to my parents. They gave us a building lot on family-owned property where I have very deep emotional roots.
Although we both work as consultants, the plan was for my wife to be involved in the family business, perhaps taking it over eventually. However, my Mom was unable to relinquish control over what she’d built up, while my wife felt she wasn’t given a fair chance.
Their relationship now is strained but cordial, with my wife feeling very hurt.
We have children and are deeply involved in the community. My wife has always wanted her own piece of land, but feels she isn’t wanted here and so isn’t happy. We’re both committed to each other and our kids.
Although my wife’s a loving, funny person, she hasn’t ever seemed truly happy to me—she’s struggled with anxiety before. If moving will make her happy (the idea is killing me and would certainly upset our kids), is it selfish of me to want to stay here?
Or, is it time for me to take my turn at not getting what I want?
And what if this move just ends up disappointing her?
- No Middle Ground
After 14 years of “your way,” she deserves a chance. Yet you’re looking for every excuse and every way out.
Stop trying to sabotage your wife; instead, look at all the possibilities of change and compromise, and work as a team rather than polarized interests. Example: If she finds a place she loves, rent out your home for a year, and try a new community.
Your children may settle well, if you choose a place together that offers them good schools and activities they like. They’ll certainly settle more easily if they don’t feel resentment and hostility between their parents.
You’ve been nurturing your own “emotional roots” for a long time without considering your partner’s emotions. Little wonder she’s had anxieties and hurts.
A friend of mine recently passed away suddenly (not of natural causes).
I had feelings for him. He never knew, and it was something that I kept to my girlfriends and myself. I held back from pursuing him, because I personally felt that he was out of my league. We bonded over similar heritages, and we both had a rough year with our health.
How do I begin to move on?
I know I didn’t love him, but I felt we had a connection.
I’ve never met a man like him, he was amazing, and one of a kind.
Everything I held back from doing or saying when he was alive, is driving me crazy now. I can’t stop thinking about him, even dreaming about him.
Is this a normal part of the grieving process?
- Sorrowful
A young, sudden death often creates drama in the minds of those who knew the person, and that’s what’s happening in your case.
Mourning the loss is natural; obsessing on it is not, as you already suspect.
Honour your late friend’s memory by living your life, meeting new people. It does NOT honour him to create a mythic image of a man no other can match, nor to hype up what might’ve come from your connection.
If you cannot stop feeling intense grief, go for counselling.
While it’s sad and disturbing to lose a friend, it’s unhealthy to remain stuck in the experience.
My boyfriend loves being with his friends; I let have his space and fun. He still has many female friends and hangs out with them, yet he’s always very caring towards me. But recently, a girl text messaged him five times and he said it was “a random girl” whom he met through a guy friend.
It bothers me that he’d give out his phone number to a “random girl.”
He said it wouldn’t have been “manly” to refuse.
Am I being over-possessive and too sensitive? I can’t seem to get past this.
- Uncertain
I’m with you – your guy’s longtime female friends are fine, but new “random girls” are stretching the concept. He should not hand his number out, as it signals that he’s available.
Otherwise, why have conversations with a near-stranger? He’s wrong about image, since it would’ve been more manly (and honest) to say that he’s seeing someone.
Tip of the day:
When major decisions are based around only one partner’s needs and feelings, the “team spirit” is bound to fade.