Day: May 8, 2024

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How to spot burnout in your relationship

How to spot burnout in your relationship
Delaney: ‘It’s a scenario that often plays out against the backdrop of an exhausting, modern lifestyle’
© Provided by The Telegraph
“Looking back, there were a few years of unhappiness in our marriage before we hit rock bottom,” says Clio Wood, the author of Get Your Mojo Back: Sex, Pleasure and Intimacy After Birth.

“We had been drifting apart and disengaging from each other but neither of us ever addressed it. It got to the stage where I think we forgot about why we ever got together in the first place.”

While some relationships implode amidst high conflict and drama, many more follow the pattern of Wood’s: a slow, almost imperceptible distancing between two people who don’t quite hate each other, might still love each other but have just stopped… liking each other very much.

It’s a scenario that often plays out against the backdrop of an exhausting, modern lifestyle that sees both partners trying to juggle work, parenting, social commitments and money worries alongside what passes for a love life. All too often, it’s their relationship that falls to the bottom of the priority list without them even noticing. Couples counsellors call it “relationship burnout”.

Living together, growing apart
“With very little free time on our hands, we often end up neglecting our relationship because we think it’s the easiest thing to ignore,” says the Relate counsellor Simone Bose. “We worry about our job, our kids, even getting the laundry done. You assume that your partner understands you’re not around to meet their needs. The truth is, you need to take regular time out to nurture your relationship or it can really start to falter. You become like colleagues who are existing in the same space but living separate lives.”

“I speak to couples who have found that they increasingly live separate lives while still together,” she says. “It is easier than talking things through or splitting up. And so they might live together but just do their own thing, rarely engaging in any meaningful way. It can be extremely lonely for both parties.” The situation worsens when we start to simply accept the distance between us, she says. “Often people tell me that they don’t want to come across as needy or vulnerable and so they decide to cope by becoming ultra-independent. But these things have to be worked through together.”

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Counsellor Simon Bose says that couples ‘need to take regular time out to nurture [their] relationship or it can really start to falter’ – Moment RF
Counsellor Simon Bose says that couples ‘need to take regular time out to nurture [their] relationship or it can really start to falter’ – Moment RF
© Provided by The Telegraph
Jimmy, a 34-year-old producer from Manchester, describes the decline of his four-year relationship, which ended in 2023, as wholly undramatic. “We bickered but there were no massive rows,” he says. “We just started being more and more irritable with each other. We were rarely having sex. Holidays and weekends started to seem less like fun and more like a chore or obligation. We cared about each other but it had become like a loving friendship. We both had busy lives and had let them overtake the importance of the relationship.”

The psychotherapist Noel McDermott says that external factors are the most common factors in relationship burnout. “Couples become distracted and unhappy because their lives are so busy and intense,” he explains. “But rather than make changes to their lifestyles they start to think that the relationship must have fundamental problems or that they’re simply not compatible. It doesn’t help that social media has created unrealistically perfect ideas of what it’s like to be in a relationship. If you’re not living up to the romantic ideal you might be quick to think the relationship is not worth fighting for.”

Wood was in her mid-30s and had been married to her husband Bryn (with whom she has a three-year-old daughter) for six years when she noticed their relationship was suffering. “It was little things at first – like we would barely greet each other when we came home,” she says. “I started to find myself more irritated than excited by his presence. But my main feeling was numbness. There were no big arguments. It was just all quite unenjoyable.”

Throwing the baby out with the bathwater
Many couples in middle age make light of how dull their relationships have become, says Wood. “I noticed that we and our friends would make gags like ‘Of course we don’t have sex any more, we have kids!’ That normalises it. But, as I found out, that situation can become quite serious and threaten the future of the marriage.”

The key, says Bose, is identifying these little problems and talking about them honestly with each other. “It’s easy to laugh about how much your partner annoys you,” she says. “But you should be talking to your partner honestly about what your emotional needs are and asking them what they require from you. Little problems become big ones unless you find the time to communicate about them regularly.”

There is a tendency among many couples to simply “throw the baby out with the bathwater” when they start to experience burnout. “It’s natural to get annoyed with your partner or for your passion towards them to have ups and downs,” notes McDermott.

“But rather than decide that the relationship is doomed, it’s helpful to try and be accepting of their flaws and of your own feelings. Realise that these are the natural bumps in the roads and do practical things to address them.” He suggests working on the ‘emotional tone’ of your relationship. “Don’t finger point or blame each other – just explain your feelings and ask your partner to do the same” and work on healthy ways of dealing with conflict. “Accept your partner’s imperfections,” he says. “Suggest small changes to their behaviour, not wholesale changes to their personality.”

When to take action
Jimmy’s relationship ended when both he and his partner both admitted that they had not been happy for over six months. “I wish we had been brave enough to admit the way we felt sooner,” he says. “The spark had gone but rather than confront that and try to find solutions we avoided the conversation because we just didn’t want to hurt each other’s feelings. We still cared about each other. I don’t regret the break-up but I do wish we had at least tried to communicate our feelings sooner. At least we wouldn’t have wasted all those months feeling unhappy.”

Burnout leaves us in a state of exhaustion where the last thing most of us want to do is enter into complex and challenging conversations. And so many of us keep our heads down, ignoring the problem and hoping it might just get better in time. It rarely does.

So how do couples take the plunge and actually address burnout? “The first step is awareness of the problem,” says Bose. “Accept that the relationship needs more attention and that you deserve to have your needs met. Then vocalise these feelings to your partner in a soft way, without blame. Own your feelings and use positive phrases such as: ‘I feel lonely, I want to feel closer to you and feel like we did at the start of our relationship. How do you feel? Is there anything you need from me?’”

Sometimes, the things that need changing are outside the relationship itself. “I think couples need to be willing to change the fundamentals of their lives a little bit,” says Bose. “If the relationship has slipped to the bottom of your priority list, it’s no wonder you’re having problems. So you need to find a way of making more space – whether that be dedicated time away from work or digital devices, arranging childcare so you can have time alone or even skipping the laundry or other chores once in a while. I advise clients to try and carve out 15 minutes in a week just to spend time together. If that’s not possible, try five minutes at least. If you don’t feel five minutes is possible then maybe you’re not serious enough about fixing things.”

For Wood, it took hitting a rock-bottom moment to realise her marriage was worth saving. “In 2019, we were starting to think of divorce after a few years of unhappiness,” she says. “But then I had an ectopic pregnancy, which was extremely traumatic, I had to lean on my husband for emotional support. He was really there for me and I started to realise how important our relationship was. We went to couples therapy which helped because it’s a space in which everyone is equal: none of the problems are framed as anyone’s “fault”, and we can just talk things through constructively.”

They rebuilt their relationship and, two years ago, had a second daughter. “I’m so glad we realised it was worth fighting for,” says Wood. “We still go to couples therapy from time to time now. The most important thing we have learned is that ups and downs are natural in a relationship but it’s best to tackle them as soon as they arise rather than let them build up to burnout level.”

Four signs that you could be experiencing relationship burnout
You’re irritable
“I reached a stage where I found everything my husband said really annoying,” says Wood. But exhaustion can drastically lower our annoyance threshold, Bose adds. “When we’re overwhelmed by life, we can snap quickly at those we’re closest to. Ask yourself if you can still see the good in your partner? If you can, perhaps you need to change your lifestyle so you can be more patient with them.”

You’re avoidant
“Ask yourself if you are behaving in a way that helps you avoid asking for your needs to be met,” says Bose. “You might just be throwing yourself into distractions like work or digital devices or your social life, instead of telling your partner that you feel lonely and unloved.”

You’re not physical
“Can you still share the little romantic moments that you did at the start of your relationship?” says Bose. “If you can’t just hug and look into each other’s eyes without it feeling awkward or uncomfortable, then you might have let the flame burn out. It can be revived but it starts with talking about it.”

You compare your relationship to perfect ideals
“There is a strong tendency to expect too much of our relationships these days,” says McDermott. “Social media and the wellness industry has taught us to expect perfection that, in reality, is impossible. Relationships are messy but when you are burnt-out you might not feel up to coping with those difficult times. Usually, the problem is nothing to do with you, your partner or the relationship itself. It’s to do with the exhausting nature of the lifestyles you’re living.”

Story by Sam Delaney: The Telegraph:

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Marriage is an inherently misogynistic institution – so why do women agree to it?

Photograph: Mode Images Limited/Alamy:© Provided by The Guardian
Marriage is an inherently misogynistic institution – so why do women agree to it?

“And still I wonder how much harder it would be to get straight women to accept the reality of marriage if they were not first presented with the fantasy of a wedding,” Jia Tolentino wrote in her superb essay, I Thee Dread. Just shy of 30 at the time of Trick Mirror’s release, Tolentino describes the endless parade of weddings that have begun to fill her weekends as, one after the other, her friends line up to get married.

This being the US, where college students are more likely to attend institutions out of state before shifting to other cities to work, the wedding circus stops in towns all over the country. That’s a lot of flying, and a lot of hotels. The price of witnessing your friends pledge their young lives to an institution that until only recently gave men the legal right to rape their wives (and still does in some US states, thanks to legal loopholes) does not come cheap.

But this is par for the course for the wedding industrial complex, where the average cost of throwing a knees-up to celebrate asking the government to legitimise your relationship is roughly A$36,000 (and that’s before interest). According to a 2022 survey conducted by the Australian government’s Money Smart website, while 82% of couples use all or part of their savings to pay for their wedding, 60% of couples take out a loan. Almost one-fifth of couples pay for their wedding using their credit card – and given that the median length of time between marriage and separation in Australia is roughly eight years, there’s a fair likelihood a lot of these people will still be paying off their weddings long after they’ve finalised their divorce.

Marriage is not now and never has been designed with women’s happiness in mind – and yet we’re told that without it, we will be miserable. As any sociologist can tell you, it’s men who benefit from marriage: they live longer, they are generally healthier and happier, and their economic prospects improve. On the other hand, studies have shown that married women die earlier. And marriage alone isn’t a guarantee of happiness for women – they are happy if they have a happy marriage.

When it comes to divorce, the financial risk to women is more perilous: ASX research based on numerous studies has shown that women’s incomes drop by around 21-30% after divorce, an economic hit that it takes an average of six years to recover from. The same is not true for men, their income briefly dipping by about 5% before recovering. We can assume one of the reasons for this is the cost of raising children, both in terms of economic outlay and deprivation of economic opportunity.

Criticising marriage, the so-called “bedrock” of western civilisation, is perceived to be a criticism of those who do it. That can feel bad for the person on the receiving end, and anything that makes someone feel bad must be wrong. But we should be willing to engage with critiques of our institutions, particularly those that have the kind of lengthy history of oppression that marriage boasts.

While I know it doesn’t feel great to have your life choices questioned, it arguably feels nowhere near as terrible as being bride-napped (a common practice among the Visigoths, which led to the tradition of the best man, who was chosen for the role because he was the best fighter, and relied on to ward off any family members who attempted to reclaim their stolen daughter). Or being put in a halter and sold at market to the highest bidder (an option for men in the middle ages wanting to rid themselves of wives they no longer wanted).

Or being committed to an asylum (an option made available later on, when all men had to do was appeal to the authority of two male doctors to condemn their wives and daughters to die in Victorian-era sanatoriums). Or being denied the right to own property, even that which you inherited (because the law of coverture stated women had no identity and thus existed under the banner of male ownership). Or being unable to leave for fear of losing access to your children (because coverture also dictated they were the property of the father). Or a lifetime of being ridiculed, mocked and even criminalised for being unmarried (as was the case for a good portion of women executed as witches during the height of the European witch trials).

With all these facts about the history of marriage freely available, why are women still buying into the myth that it is romantic, or that it will supposedly bring us lifelong bliss? This is the question at the heart of my new book, I Don’t, an excoriating critique of marriage and the lies that are told to keep women enlisting into its service. From the days of empire building and daughter trading, to the advent of engagement rings and the growth of the wedding industry, to the mid-century myth of the “happy housewife”, everything we’ve been told about marriage, from start to finish, is a diabolical deception.

When you peel back the layers of history and propaganda, it’s impossible not to want to completely destroy this inherently misogynistic institution. I think of marriage as being like the colourfully decorated wagon the children in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang are lured into by the royally appointed Child Catcher: once women are safely ensconced in it, the bells and whistles adorning the exterior fall away to reveal nothing but a cage.

Despite this, there are scores of articles and books being released pondering the question of how to fix marriage. How can it be improved, how can we reimagine it and so on and so forth. The establishment of same-sex marriage rights is considered to be a win for progressive politics, but there’s nothing radical about joining a club that worked so hard to deny you entry. Queer people getting married doesn’t radicalise marriage. On the contrary, it normifies queer people, giving us conservative status within a regressive framework.

Marriage is an unsalvageable lie, designed to keep women in service to patriarchy and away from realising our full potential. We should reject it entirely, and refuse on principle to willingly add our names to a list built primarily on the backs of women who had no choice, no rights and no freedom. The fact that many women still can’t make this choice freely – even Tolentino wound up married, because it was the only way she and her partner could access each other’s healthcare benefits – says everything. Simply put: if the government is bribing you to do something, it’s rarely in your best interest.

To paraphrase Mae West, they keep telling me marriage is a great institution – but I ain’t ready for an institution. What I’m ready for is a revolution.

Story by Clementine Ford:The Guardian:

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My partner concealed he had more than one ex-wife. Should I be nervous about our future?

Photograph: IanDagnall Computing/Alamy:© Photograph: IanDagnall Computing/Alamy

My partner concealed he had more than one ex-wife. Should I be nervous about our future?
n the early throes of a new relationship, most of us conceal how much we want to be liked,’ writes Eleanor Gordon-Smith. Painting: Anthony van Dyck Wooing his Model (1827) by Gustaaf Wappers.
After several months of dating, my partner revealed he had another ex-wife and three teenage children.

He’d only ever mentioned one ex-wife and two small children. He explained his rationale and I decided to continue with the relationship. I had been single for 15 years and I feel I’ve really connected with him.

We have the best time together, and although he’s away a lot with work, he’s communicative, considerate and has given me the sort of relationship I never thought I’d find. I feel he genuinely loves me and wants the best for me. He’s always saying how much he appreciates me. But I am nervous about the future as he has so many commitments (I don’t have children but hope to one day, and he’s on board).

My family feel he’s deceived me and they fear for my future. I don’t know how to navigate my way through this. All I’ve ever wanted is to meet someone to build a life with and I feel I can’t enjoy it. I’m scared I’m making a mistake. I’m scared I’ll never meet someone like him if I walk away. I’m scared my family won’t ever accept him. What do I do?
Eleanor says: Nobody likes to feel that something big has been elided. Transparency is, in a lot of ways, the ideal in close relationships. But I suspect there are ways we all fall short of that ideal, quite deliberately, all the time – especially in the early stages of dating.

Hoping someone will fall in love with you is a bit like hoping they’ll believe what you’re telling them, in that you actively set back your chances of succeeding by announcing that’s what you want. “Like me!” akin to “believe me!” makes you seem less deserving of the thing you want. So in the early throes of a new relationship, most of us conceal how much we want to be liked and we conceal other “warts and all” things too. Finances, health problems, neuroses, the worst lie you ever told – everybody has aspects of themselves they don’t bring to the first date.

But a whole extra family is a lot to not mention. We tend to conceal the things we think will see us unfairly written off, and I can see why he’d fear that two previous families look worse than one. Maybe he gambled that once you knew him, you’d understand, but that in those early stages you’d think that while one divorce looks an accident, two looks like carelessness.

This omission demonstrates a facility with concealment that might be troubling. And it makes me quite sad for the teens that they were the “extra” reveal: that the fact he’s their dad was a temporarily excisable part of his identity.

But I think a great deal lives in the details. It speaks well that he told you, that you didn’t have to find it out. Has he reassured you there are no more big surprises? Are there other indications that he takes his role as part of their family seriously? What do the kids and exes think of him?

If you’re satisfied with the answers, I’m not sure that your family’s impression needs to matter more than your own.

You mentioned being fearful of your future together. It’s true that he has a lot of commitments. To my mind, the possibility that his attention would be divided is actually a good thing – it would be no great recommendation if he was wonderful to you and your hypothetical children, but gave no time to his other families. That would just make you fear that if you did break up you’d be relegated to their category. So the more you have to share him now, the more reassurance you have that he’ll be supportive no matter what comes.

There’s a lot of fear at the end of your letter – of other people’s judgment, of missing out, of him. Unfortunately that means there’s fear associated with every option. It’s natural during big life shifts to fear we’re making a mistake. But one way to guarantee things go badly is to be consumed more by what might happen, than by what is happening.

Story by Eleanor Gordon-Smith: The Guardian:

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My husband wants to separate but I don’t. Can I save this marriage?

Photograph: Alamy: © Provided by The Guardian

My husband wants to separate but I don’t. Can I save this marriage?

My husband wants to separate but I don’t; what can I do? We have two small children, one with additional needs. I’m scared about how this will affect them. I feel my husband is deeply depressed and I worry that he is making a decision he will come to regret.

Since he has explained his need to separate from me, he has stopped drinking heavily and has started to meet with friends again, which I am really pleased about. He explains that he needs to find himself again outside the role of father and provider. I would like to support him in this within our partnership. I regret how I allowed him to drift from me and how little I challenged his drinking and self-isolation. He refuses therapy of all kinds. Is there anything I can do to help the children and him? Can I save this?

Eleanor says: First off, I’m so sorry to hear your husband has dropped this on you. The whole point of a marriage is that, when you join together, you no longer look at the world and your decisions through the lens of an individual out for themselves. You take on a shared perspective. One of the scariest betrayals that can happen to you, once you’ve pivoted to that perspective, is having your partner switch back. You’re left holding the upshot of decisions you made when you were still thinking like half of a team.

I think it could be worth separating out two questions. One is whether the collective can be saved. The other is how you can protect the individual you are, whatever happens to that collective.

Can the collective be saved? Perhaps, but not without his help. It sounds like your husband has been going through a lot. Depression (if you’re right about that), drinking, feeling pigeonholed into familial roles. It sounds as if he may be struggling with something that ambushes many of us, namely how to give enough of ourselves to others so we’re good spouses or parents, without giving so much that there’s none of us as individuals left. I think it can be especially hard for men to process these feelings under the yoke of ideas about masculinity and emotion – you said he refuses therapy of any kind, which (I know you know) makes about as much sense as refusing to see a mechanic.

Unfortunately, if attachment to others is starting to feel like a cage, processing that feeling with others is likely to create more claustrophobia. A whole lot of people sever connections because that’s the only path they see out of feeling consumed by responsibility.

But listen, you can’t make him want to change that. This is an absolutely hard and fast rule: you cannot induce people to feel things that they do not currently feel.

You may be right that he will come to regret this, but you cannot make him know that either. Some knowledge you just have to acquire first-hand – the affair partner won’t reinvent you, the sports car won’t make you younger, the bachelor pad will feel lonely and empty – sometimes the only way to learn these things is to have the scales fall from your own eyes.

That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t fight for the collective. But it might affect your approach. You might prioritise strategies that retain your dignity and clarity, rather than chasing his approval. You could say what you’ve said to me here. You could insist on therapy together, for your children’s sake. Sometimes in the candour of a relationship’s postmortem we find ourselves able to fully show up in a way that we didn’t during the relationship; you might be able to do that before it’s a postmortem.

But one of the worst experiences you can subject yourself to is contorting yourself to try to keep someone who is telling you they no longer cherish you. It doesn’t guarantee anything about how they’ll react. But it does guarantee how you’ll feel: small, powerless, debased.

If you cannot salvage the relationship, you can at least save your relationship with yourself. It will be a terrible grief if your husband goes ahead with this separation, but far better to lose his esteem than your own.

Story by Eleanor Gordon-Smith: The Guardian: