On Monday a friend told me, almost in passing, that she was leaving her “miserable marriage”.
I didn’t know there was anything especially miserable about it, although I’d always thought she was way more fun, interesting and smart than her frankly quite boring husband.
Having been stuck with him for several hours at a friend’s wedding, I’d often wondered since how she put up with him.
But, who knows, he probably felt the same about me.
I couldn’t say I saw it coming then, but I honestly wasn’t surprised.
After all, she’s not the first to announce imminent divorce.
She’s not even the second or the third.
She is, in fact, about the 15th woman I know in their mid-40s to late-50s who has turned around in the past few years and said . . . Is this it? Really? For the next 30-odd years? No thanks.
Let’s be clear, these are not, on the whole, women in so-called bad marriages, although I’m inclined to think that “bad” is in the eye of the person who has to lie next to it in bed every night.
They are not, on the whole, having affairs. and they have not, again on the whole, been cheated on.
They are not all suddenly freed up by the kids leaving home, even.
They have just tired of the daily grind of “acting the wife”, as my aforementioned friend put it which, even in 2024, seems to entail far too much slaving away on behalf of others and not nearly enough appreciation for it.
The first of my friends to leave her husband turned out to be the advance guard.
She and her partner had been together for more than 20 years, had four children and, despite them both being in full-time work for most of those two decades, she had divided herself between the professional and the domestic.
Which meant everything else — a social life, an inner life, her health, friendships, everything — went by the board.
Like so many heterosexual women in traditional marriages (even if you think it’s not going to be traditional when you start out, that you’re different, that you will never put up with that patriarchal nonsense), the effort was almost all hers.
Well, more than 90 per cent at least. If she wasn’t doing this domestic chore or that family errand, she was arranging for someone else to do it.
If a ball dropped, no one else would pick it up.
My friend’s partner — charming, funny, a “good dad”, definitely “one of the good guys” — carried on looking after his job, while she looked after her job and five other people’s lives.
Doubtless, he absolutely would have collected the children from school if one of them got sick, but he was at work.
It didn’t occur to either of them that so was she.
There’s nothing standout about this story.
Just as there’s nothing standout about his shock when told she wanted a divorce, nor about the familial recriminations directed at her for “giving up on their marriage so easily” (although interestingly none came from the children who were like, “well, yeah, of course”).
Nor was there anything unusual about the assumption that she must have found someone else — because why else would she leave?
Why would anyone pull the plug if they didn’t have another bed to jump straight into? (For the record, she hadn’t.)
This is a relatively new thing. In part, it’s about economics and women earning their own money, albeit often not a lot of it.
It’s about privilege. Many people who would love to leave relationships ranging from lacklustre to downright terrifying simply can’t afford to.
And it’s about social mores. It’s about women waking up one morning or slowly, over the course of years, coming to, and realising they have had enough.
You don’t have to look very far back — or even at all — to stumble on the old trope of the man who gets successful in his chosen field and dumps his first wife (the one he’s often been with since school or college, who he’s had children with, who has invariably subverted her wishes for his) for a younger glitzier model more befitting his new highflying status.
Recently, I was speaking to author Emily Howes, about her latest novel, Mrs Dickens, which takes as its inspiration Charles Dickens’ much overlooked first wife, Kate.
The woman who bore their ten children and then found herself shamed for “letting herself go”.
Chances are you don’t know anything about Kate other than that the celebrated author dumped her, because it was a time-honoured rite of passage, almost.
First wife dies/ages/ gets boring/loses her looks/all of the above, man moves on.
I’m not saying that never happens any more. Of course it does — all the time.
But it feels like there’s a sea change happening. and a lot of men (not all men, obviously) don’t like it.
They like things the way they were.
Because the truth is, heterosexual marriage works better for men than for women.
https://thenightly.com.au/lifestyle/why-women-in-their-40s-and-50s-are-increasingly-walking-out-on-long-term-marriages-c-15295899?fbclid=IwY2xjawGBYVJleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHZnjrwWmyw_JggNXwNjDgswQouhMNUKWeZp4R82oGYIFcMatnq2mfpPM1g_aem_fDXe_DWc_RKn5CgjxbXC7w