Dear Bel,
It’s almost Christmas and I’m struggling with a situation that must be far from unique. The holidays unfairly add another layer of poignancy – a sparkling vision of what could be, contrasted with the disappointing and frustrating reality.
First some background. Three years ago, on Christmas Eve, I started a relationship with Andrew, a retired RAF officer. We had known each other for a while, through work, but nothing more than that. Andrew’s wife, Rachel, whom he loved, died during Covid, and I had been alone for ten years. long-term partner who left suddenly and painfully for no apparent reason. I heard about Rachel’s death and suggested some excursions provide company.
Over the months, our friendship developed into something much closer, something neither of us had looked for or expected. Despite our differences – Andrew, an old-fashioned gentleman, fond of military history, tweed jackets and real ale; me, a bohemian with henna hair, loving poetry, Motown and red wine – we found great happiness in our new chapter. Living more than three hours apart, we enjoy talking every day, spending weekends and holidays together, sharing friends and special occasions. We are both in our sixties and we feel lucky to have another chance at happiness.
So far, so good. But there’s one problem that no matter how hard I try, I can’t get a handle on it. Andrew has two adult daughters, both with happy lives, beautiful homes and excellent jobs. At first, I sympathized with their desire not to “replace” their mother and their caution about their father entering into a relationship with someone so different.
Our friends and most family members are happy for us, but the daughters are not happy. At family gatherings, I am greeted politely (often without my name being mentioned) and then ignored.
No effort is made to include me in the conversation. I am a good listener and always ask questions, smile, comment and try to be involved. But it is never answered. The girls are intelligent and responsible people, and I would like to continue with them – as a friend, not as a substitute mother!
Andrew really wants to see us all together and enjoying Christmas as one big, mixed group – and because I love him, I want to see him happy. We think back to that first Christmas Eve, full of excitement, hope and expectation. Soon we started dreaming about future Christmases together. But then again, I’ll be spending Christmas with my family, and Andrew will be spending it with his daughters.
Do I put my own awkwardness aside and join a Christmas gathering where I am not entirely welcome, or do we continue to go our separate ways at this special time of year? I just want to see Andrew happy, but it’s hard to know how to deal with this. One day we can finally celebrate Christmas together, right?
JENNY
Bel Mooney replies: You are undoubtedly right when you say that your situation is far from unique. That’s why I read your letter with a strange mixture of real sadness and increasing frustration. Which I will come back to later.
But first, the good news is that you met someone after being alone for a long time. I’m pleased that you make so many of your disagreements (even though you both sound like people I would get along with!) because that fact confirms something I’ve mentioned many times in this column. When people decide they have a “type” (“I’m only attracted to tall men” or “I want to meet a bubbly blonde”), they might as well put a high fence around themselves, deliberately exposing different beautiful shutting out souls. that you can have fun with/find happiness with. Don’t do it!
Having an open mind and a generous, inquisitive heart is the key to all relationships, whether they are sexual, familial or friendly. And when readers mutter, “It’s all very well that she wrote that,” I will answer with a hand on my heart that I have practiced what I preach in my life. It’s not that hard, once you decide to make the effort.
No one ever said these things are easy. Many people have to witness a son or daughter in a relationship with someone they don’t really care about. If they are wise, they will proceed cautiously, quietly hoping that the relationship will fail. But what if that’s not the case?
A friend of mine confessed that she was never really in love with her beloved daughter’s husband, but knows she has to make the best of it. What choice is there, especially if there are children? It’s either that or live in an unpleasant atmosphere. Or worse.
You and Andrew are at opposite ends of the age scale, but the problem can be just as acute.
You understand that the relative speed of Andrew’s affection for you must have shocked his daughters. They were still grieving for their mother when their father suddenly found himself in a relationship with another woman. I doubt it was anything personal; they just thought it was too early.
But three years later? Yes, it is definitely time for them to put their feelings aside to facilitate their father’s happiness at this stage of his life.
Here my imagination hears the old refrain: Why should they? Regular readers know that this is my bugbear: that general refusal to do something you don’t really want to do because it will make someone else very happy indeed. Oh, what a stubborn, petty spirit!
Why, oh why, can’t people bring some light into the darkness of life by forgiving, forgetting and forbearing? Why not recognize how terrifyingly short life is and just reach out – even if it takes effort? Why not be kind?
Why not act with welcoming warmth, even if your heart doesn’t really feel it? You’d be surprised at the effect a little helpful charade can have on everyone involved – much like the established fact that when you make yourself laugh, your mood lightens.
This would be my Christmas message to all readers. I often get depressed (after 19 years of writing an advice column) by the smug negativity of people who (honestly) need to get over themselves and realize that they are adding nothing to the joy of the universe by being critical and cold.
You know, I once had a letter about three adult (although that’s a dubious term) sisters who were deeply involved in a war over one item from their late father’s belongings. Can you imagine it? You have no idea how cruelly people can peck at each other – like chickens in a cage that is too small…
But I digress. Back to you, Jenny – and, at least from time to time, you see and talk to these daughters. You are not excluded from any meeting. Your problem is the lack of warmth and interest from them.
But you mention your own ‘clumsiness’, so the situation isn’t all one-sided, right?
The problem is that by expecting them to behave coolly towards you, I suspect that you might behave in a similar way too. It would be natural. But you ask what you can do about it, so I suggest (which you may not like) that you should do it in the future.
What are the alternatives? Continue as you are and celebrate separate Christmases. Decide to go on a luxury cruise (or something similar) next year and have a very different Christmas together, even though it might hurt Andrew to make that break.
Or decide to spend Christmas Day with him, his daughters and the grandchildren and decide that you are going to make it a success.
You see, you can’t do much about their minds, but you can take control of your own. It’s a hard truth.
There are no magic wands. There is only a question of withholding warmth and affection, and at the same time accepting the need for some self-sacrifice… for all of us.
Yes, this is my heartfelt message of peace and goodwill – and perhaps the more difficult it seems, the more beautiful it turns out to be.
And finally…
Make a Christmas list with a twist
Don’t mind the raindrops on the roses and the whiskers on the kittens (although both are beautiful) and I’m not so sure about the ‘girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes’. But this is the time for “warm woolly mitts” – so maybe a list of favorite things will warm your heart.
And writing down all the things you enjoy most might inspire you to keep a gratitude journal next year. As the song from The Sound Of Music says, “When I feel sad/I just think about my favorite things/and then I don’t feel so bad.”
So let me share a few of mine and see if any of them strike a chord with you…
- Decorating the Christmas tree with the same old baubles and tinsel while traditional Christmas carols play on CDs. Add to that listening to music all year round.
- Put the wrapped presents under the fairytale tree and remember that, even though life can make you sad, gifts wrapped in Christmas paper are always exciting.
- Walking into an art gallery or museum, anywhere.
- Talking about everything under the sun with good friends, preferably over a glass or four of wine.
- Talking to my son and daughter about their lives. (How come they grew up?)
- Witnessing how happy the grandchildren are with us.
- Being in our cozy house, even though the kitchen hasn’t been painted in 15 years.
- Read my fresh, new Daily Mail every day during breakfast.
- Trees, flowers, fields, birds, clouds… the beauty of our countryside. (Will I do pet hate like wind turbines and solar farms in the new year?)
- Dancing to my 1964 jukebox.
- The clinking sound as my kind husband prepares me a drink in the kitchen – usually a vodka and tonic. Cheers, good health – and a very Happy Christmas to you all!