Dear Bel,
Last year a friend (14 years old) murdered a man in broad daylight. It was sudden, brutal and, as the judge ruled, planned, an act of revenge for a mistake she thought the man had committed against a family member 25 years earlier. She is now serving a life sentence.
I attended the sentencing and found the defense attorney’s attempts to mitigate the sentence and the prosecution’s plea to increase the statutory penalty fascinating. But listening to the testimony of the victim’s family members was heartbreaking.
I had to agree with the judge’s summary when he sentenced her to a minimum of 24 years. When she gets out, if we’re still alive, we’ll both be in our 80s.
I find it hard to discuss this with friends. Murder is seen as black and white by most people. However, the person I knew had no indication that he was violent and unstable — this would have been a red flag for me, because I find unpleasant people disturbing.
I will say that I grew up in foster care and have known many damaged people in the past, but this feels like a landslide from good to bad with no in between.
She was loved, from a good family, and loved animals (especially dogs) and nature. She had a supportive partner and two teenage children who were her world to me. I can’t get them out of my head. We went to classes together, socialized, and she was kind to others.
I can’t understand why she would do this to another human being, her family, his family, and herself. It has shaken my normal sense of ‘it will pass’. My equilibrium is off.
I understand that people are flawed and sometimes make decisions that are out of character, but this feels like total duality: Jekyll and Hyde. Did I miss an aspect of her character that I should have seen?
While we were waiting for the trial, we corresponded. But my question to you is: would you continue to write to someone who has been found guilty of such a brutal crime? Or not?
I’m torn between the idea that it’s right to correspond with her because she was my friend, and it must be terrible to be removed from everything you take for granted.
Or is it really because I feel the need to delve deeper into her psyche to achieve some kind of closure for myself (selfish, I know)?
Do you have any ideas about this?
PATRICIA
Bel Mooney responds: It is easy to understand why you are so upset by this terrible situation and find your dilemma unbearable. A sudden catastrophe such as the one you describe — the destruction of two families — is almost impossible to comprehend, let alone accept.
I imagine the constant back and forth of disgust and pity is exhausting and gives you sleepless nights. Your friend took another human life and yet you still have no idea why that side of her (the part that clearly held a deep grudge for 25 years) came out. Why she went crazy — and killed her.
You wonder if you were “supposed” to see this side of her, but how could you? No matter how many books we read, movies and documentaries we watch, and how many real-life stories we hear, we never feel like we have the key to human nature. Because we don’t.
When people protest that they would never cheat on their partner, or steal, or intentionally hurt someone else, I always think, “But you could do that… depending on the circumstances.”
How can we know? New parents can suddenly discover that passion within themselves that would kill to protect their child. But what about when the child grows up? And could we regard a beloved nephew or niece the same way we regard our own child? I don’t see why not.
Would I do anything to prevent someone from attacking my granddaughter? Absolutely. Have you ever had violent thoughts about someone who has harmed you or a loved one? I would say yes.
Who knows what dark, primitive passions may lie buried for years, waiting to burst to the surface in the blink of an eye?
Look at how war turns people into barbarians. This isn’t about softening. It’s why you’re left confused that someone you thought you knew could do something so horrible.
I doubt that feeling of shock will ever go away. Your question about writing to her is the heart of your letter, but even there you see your confusion.
You don’t really say what you’re torn between; you’re just questioning your own motivation. The logical omission, the other part of the dilemma, is that you cut off contact altogether, because of your horror at her crime. I think your first feeling — that you have to write because her situation must be terrible — is a good feeling. She’s already being punished by the state and by grief for the life she’s lost, and (I assume) by guilt as well.
You don’t need to punish her any further, nor do you need to delve too deeply into the complicated motives behind her writing.
If I were you, I would make sure I kept in touch with her partner and children as much as possible. Then I would make my letters as newsworthy as possible, asking her about facilities such as the library, asking her if she wanted things sent to her, etc.
You can regret her crime and still be kind to someone you love.
If she wants to say more about her state of mind, then and now, that’s her business.
Whether or not you should write to a friend with whom you have been in a relationship for 14 years is, in my opinion, not a moral issue in these circumstances.
My angry husband is mean to me every day
Dear Bel,
I have been married for 44 years to a man with whom I used to be madly in love, but who has now turned into the most moody person I have ever met.
Maybe he’s always been that way, but when you’re young and in love, you tend to overlook things.
He is 68 and can never retire because he is a builder. I found out he has never paid National Insurance contributions and therefore has no pension.
I still work part time as a medical secretary. About 12 years ago he had prostate cancer and his prostate was removed.
Since then our sex life has been zero.
He is mean to me all the time and the reason I don’t leave is because we have two beautiful children and their lives would be hell because he would be so dependent on them if I wasn’t there.
He can’t do anything himself (not even make doctor appointments), so he should ask them to do it.
We could sell our house and maybe each buy a small apartment, but he’s never had to pay a bill in his life and I’m afraid the kids will be footing the bill for him, and I don’t want that for them.
Any advice is welcome as I am at my wits end!
LINDA
Bel answers: Your letter reminds me that many women default to putting their children first, even when they are adults, no matter what the cost to us.
A leading psychologist warned me about this and pointed out to me how important a certain degree of selfishness is.
The late American poet Mary Oliver ends her oft-quoted poem, The Summer Day, with a key question: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do / With your one wild and precious life?” It’s a useful poser for all of us. Sometimes, of course, the actual choices are limited, but the mental attitude can still be unfettered. And my suggestion to you, Linda, is that you shake up yours.
First, let’s look at the husband who has seemingly been given free rein when it comes to personal responsibility.
Why? Was it because the ‘young and in love’ person who married him had made himself a doormat? Why has he never paid NI? Why didn’t you know? Why can’t he ‘do anything for himself’? Why has he ‘never had to pay a bill in his life’?
It sounds like you stayed married to a spoiled, ill-tempered child that you constantly encouraged by ignoring far too much. And that certainly brings up another incredulous “why?”
I assume you have thought about mental or physical ailments that could be the cause of his permanent bad mood. I have nothing but sympathy for you in your plight, but I think you need to do some serious self-questioning. You want to leave, but you say that the future well-being of your family is holding you back. Is that really true? And if so, does that mean they will let him walk all over them too? Why? Have you spoken to them? Or to Mr Angry?
Does he know how you feel? Does he care? Is the real problem that you’re afraid of being alone? I want you to write down honest answers to all my questions.
You are 65 and need to start thinking carefully about how you want to spend the rest of your precious life.
Living with someone who is ‘nasty’ to you is a recipe for pointless misery. Because you can’t stand it anymore (‘the end of my tether’) you need to consider radical change.
Start by imagining a peaceful life in that apartment. Don’t think that your first duty is to “protect” your adult offspring from their own father.
Bel answers readers’ questions about emotional and relationship issues every week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 9 Derry Street, London W8 5HY, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.co.uk. Names have been changed to protect identities. Bel reads all letters but regrets that she is unable to enter into personal correspondence.