How messy is your marriage? Not divorced, but not exactly together

By Jean-Claude Chalmet, as told to Anna Maxted for The Times, November 4th, 2023.

The therapist Jean-Claude Chalmet explains how complicated long-term relationships can still work

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About 42 per cent of marriages in the UK end in divorce, according to the latest statistics. Of course, the rest aren’t necessarily love’s young dream — many long-term couples simply feel they have more to lose by parting than staying together.

I regularly see these types of partnerships in my clinic. They don’t hate one another — far from it — but life is so busy and challenging it’s easy to muddle along in a decades-long marriage until a situation quietly evolves that you didn’t expect. The Hollywood couple Jada Pinkett-Smith and Will Smith apparently live in separate homes, but with no plans to divorce: “We’ve decided to be together in a way that works for us,” she said last week. In a recent podcast Sarah Beeny, 51, said of her 21-year marriage: “We’re hanging on by our fingernails,” as neither she nor her husband are prepared to only see their children half the time. “He said, ‘You wanna be happy or unhappy, because either way, we’re still going to live together’. So I was like, ‘OK, we’ll do happy then shall we?’ He was like, ‘What a good idea. Maybe you’ll be a bit nicer?’ I was like, ‘Yeah all right I will.’ So logical, isn’t it?”

Compromise and imperfection are a part of any relationship. But in messier marriages, there’s an undercurrent of distance and discordance, even if all is amicable on the surface. For some of my clients, the compensations of being a pair are enough. But others run the risk of never feeling content, simply because they haven’t stopped to think about what they really want. If you can face some of the issues there can often be much to gain, for both partners. Are any of these signs familiar?

You share an iCalendar but not a social life

I see a lot of couples whose schedules are in sync for the practicalities, while their social life is separate. For some couples this separation works well — time is short, they play to their strengths, divide and conquer. It isn’t always a sign of impending doom.

And yet this can devolve into what I call a “working marriage”. There’s respect, there’s care, but there’s no spark or oomph. These couples are separate, each has their own interests. Their arrangement is transactional — “I’m responsible for this, you take care of that.” There’s not a lot of emotional connection between them. While there are always times when you don’t have a choice, or childcare, a little effort from both partners goes a long way. It’s good to understand each other’s worlds, so that the other side doesn’t look like a foreign land.

You haven’t had sex for years (there’s often a way back)

A surprising number of couples haven’t had sex in a very long time. They sleep in the same bed but they don’t kiss each other goodnight. They have a brother-and-sister relationship. Of course, sex in midlife isn’t going to be as carefree as it once was. So is an all-but-sexless marriage a problem? Our bodies change as we age and it requires more effort. But when I ask in the clinic, “Are you OK with that?” 95 per cent reply, “I suppose so.” When I ask what that means, they say, “I’m not sure there’s an alternative.” It emerges that they have never asked, or discussed it — usually because they’re afraid of the answer. It’s not so much the rejection that hurts, but the indifference.

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My concern is that people don’t feel emotionally safe with each other when they act like this. It’s less the mechanics of sex than their connection that is the issue. If things have changed can you talk about why? It’s sad when we become afraid of showing who we really are to our life partner. A lot of “messy” couples fear being alone, but it’s painful to be alone in a relationship. They fear talking about it because it’s awkward, and when you’ve lost the openness, it can feel like it is too late. It’s never too late if you care. That difficult talk could pave the way for greater intimacy, security, trust, and bonding. It’s a risk, but it’s one that couples should dare to take.

You holiday separately

This can be wonderful. One partner has to work, so the other parent might go away with the children, and friends, in half-term. One wants to lie on the beach for a week, the other loves to hike, and they separate so as not to impose on the other. There’s merit in that, particularly if you enjoy a few holidays a year and most are en famille.

But when every holiday is separate it doesn’t bode well for a couple. It’s a common occurrence in my clinic and often an indication that something is adrift. I’d ask, why are you not together? Often it’s because there’s a lack of communication and holidays represent a real danger that the couple would have to talk.

You sleep in separate bedrooms (not always a bad thing)

This often happens when one partner snores and my understanding is that there’s a lot you can do about that. For some couples, separate bedrooms work well — separate bathrooms even better. Perhaps one partner wakes at night and it disturbs the other. One couple I counselled agreed that separate bedrooms and connecting doors led to better sleep, but they also agreed they could join each other when the mood took them. If you’re both up for visitation rights it can actually be an exciting arrangement.

You don’t share friends anymore

No couple should become an extension of their partner, but at the other extreme, connection can be lost. The golden middle ground is where you’re not treading on each other’s toes, nor walking parallel without ever meeting. The tradition at dinner parties for seating couples separately is a perfect example. You meet other people, have different conversations, then get back together afterwards and chat about your experiences. It provides an opportunity for emotional connection, fun and curiosity. Without this, couples can find themselves in an operational partnership, where there’s no animosity but they’re indifferent to each other’s lives.

You can’t bear the thought of seeing your children only half the time

This fear is understandable. Not seeing your children daily is tough. You don’t always need to be with your child for them to feel that you are there for them, but you do have to be there enough and so the question is — what is enough? How is your marriage working for them now? What are we teaching our children about relationships? If you’re barely at home to avoid your spouse, are you having quality time with your children? Separation is gruelling, but if parents consciously put their children first, it can bring them closer. That said, sticking it out like the Beenys can work with kindness and collaboration.

You’re perfectly polite, but miss the connection

You greet each other with a peck on the cheek, inquire after each other’s day, but you can’t remember the last time you had a deep conversation. Formality can be a way to maintain emotional distance while keeping safe. One partner can’t fault the other for being rude or ignoring them. In fact, it can be a sophisticated control mechanism, as you can say: “When have I ever been unkind or shown I don’t think of you? You know you can always talk to me. What would you like to talk about?”

One partner fears this question, the other fears the answer. Neither wants to be vulnerable or take an emotional risk. But usually, it’s one keeping the other at arm’s length — a way of saying, “That’s your place and I’m keeping you there.” The other partner fears that if they ask for more even that politeness will be withdrawn. So often I hear couples say they’ve got nothing in common. I ask, “Why and how did you get together?” If they say they’ve grown apart. I ask, “How? What really happened? Why did you stop making an effort?” To instigate change, these are good questions to begin with.

You’ll have dinner at the kitchen table but rarely in a restaurant together

What I see in messy marriages is that, whatever the location of the meal, they’re not talking. Or each of them is on their phone. Yes, companionable silences exist, but not for two and a half hours.

In clinic, I’d ask, “What is it that makes you not spend time together?” If this is a mutually agreeable part of the relationship, with no problem on either side, then I respect that. Where it becomes difficult is if one partner wants more but can’t get it. My definition of a messy marriage is one that’s operationally sound, but lacking intimacy. But little things like going to a restaurant together are about connection and creating a bond.

You love your home too much to split

Concern about a drastic drop in bank balance, comfort and lifestyle is real and far from trite. Add this to the fear of being alone and people are justifiably petrified. Knowing you’ll be in a worse financial situation and accommodation by yourself is enough for many to want to preserve the status quo. But that thought — “I have to stay, I love my home, I’ve put in so much effort” — suggests you already feel alone in the relationship and are trading emotional safety for material safety. It’s wonderful to create a place that feels like a sanctuary together, but it’s a balance. If all you would miss is the building and the status, it suggests that the relationship is empty. But if it’s only a fleeting thought, there’s time to repair. With couples I see in the clinic I suggest rephrasing, “I really love my husband or wife — I’ve put in so much effort.” Could you shift your focus?

You’ve agreed to stick it out harmoniously until the youngest goes to university

There’s rarely a crossword between you — but that’s because you’re not interested in improving the relationship. There’s indifference and all that’s left between you is a transactional agreement to stay together until your youngest child flies the nest. How can you make the situation liveable for each other?

Kids will pick up on cold-shouldering and uncomfortable silence. Lead by example or you will be producing the next generation of clients for therapists, as they will not know how to behave in an adult relationship, or how to feel emotionally safe or able to emotionally attune to their partners.

If you are planning to announce your split after they’ve left, there’s still the potential for hurt. Children may feel that their childhood was a lie, or guilty that their parents were trapped in an unhappy marriage because of them.

Let them know that raising them was the best thing you’ve done together. Show them at least that it’s possible to resolve problems in a way that isn’t hostile, but thoughtful and respectful. Selling the family home can be difficult even for adult children — focus on the fact that you will still always be a family, wherever you live.

Your fantasy retirement plan is a solo one (there’s a way to make this work)

Even if your retirement plan is pie in the sky, if it doesn’t involve your partner, it’s a dream worth examining and discussing. It doesn’t mean that separation is on the cards, it could mean that your relationship offers room for solo endeavours, or that you’d like it to. Saying, “I had this idea about retirement: I’d like to go to Thailand and work in an animal sanctuary for two months”, is different to announcing that you’ve bought your year-long ticket and that you’ll call.

It’s normal to want some space or to wish to explore something your partner is indifferent to. What matters is how you communicate, accommodate and understand your needs, and theirs, and whether you want the best for each other. Your partner is supposed to be someone who you can count on. Some independence helps relationships thrive — too much and distance can grow.

You are not sure if you’re on the same page

Some couples are not only on different pages but reading different books. There’s not much honest communication. They have no idea how their partner is feeling as they’re not inclined to ask. I’ve seen couples where one partner thinks it’s a marriage of convenience and pursues other people, which comes as a surprise to their spouse. That’s a passive-aggressive way of saying, “I have no interest in you anymore”. It’s also cowardly, as they’re often hoping their partner will end it for them.

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But that’s the worst-case scenario. It’s possible to check in and realign yourselves before the situation becomes acute. It requires the courage to take a risk and be honest. There’s such sadness in feeling unable to talk, or be real, after decades. Many couples are afraid to upset the apple cart. But it can be worth doing. You get rid of the rot and if you’re both willing you can build on that.

A messy marriage is not necessarily a failing marriage

There’s nothing more difficult than living with another human being. Many of us are unprepared for the challenges of long relationships because our parents didn’t always set the greatest example. In midlife, your unresolved issues can coalesce. You either have a lot going on — or very little — which has the same result. You’re not equipped to negotiate the complexities of life and marriage in a constructive way. It’s normal to struggle.

But it’s a waste when people do nothing to tend and repair one of the most important undertakings of their lives. Ask yourselves, are you sure it has to be this way? You can learn, explore, evolve, grow and become the best version of yourself — for you and the relationship you are in. I applaud any couple who dare to communicate honestly and with tact, or who suggest therapy. Even if this relationship doesn’t work out, you’ll have grown and can take that valuable self-knowledge into your next one.

‘Would we get divorced now? I can’t see the point’

A 65-year-old on her unconventional marriage

We married in haste on a sunset beach in Hawaii 31 years ago, with our two-year-old in tow. The romance ended at Gatwick. We persevered for the sake of the family (our youngest arrived three years later) but eventually “split up” when our children were in primary school. No one else was involved, just two alpha career-driven parents who couldn’t peacefully share the same kitchen, let alone the same bed. So he got a bachelor pad on the river and I bought a house by the school, both of us having learnt from previous relationships not to merge our finances or record collections. When I travelled for work he stayed over, got the kids to school and even mowed the lawn. I’d come home from a trip, exhausted, to find dinner on the table, wine in the cooler and the kids’ sports kits washed and ironed by the door.

At some point, when the tweens hit those difficult years and we entered our forties, still hitched but not “together-together” (as we explained to the kids in that mystic double-speak that parents use), we decided to give it another go. The children weren’t thrilled at this trial remarriage, by now clearly seeing the benefit of two homes and having the upper hand in the power play between separated parties. The guilt trip was further embedded by a volatile period of break-up/make-up/repeat. Couldn’t live with him, couldn’t live without. Frankly, we were all relieved when that cycle was replaced by a kind of platonic “friends with benefits” system (I still mend his jumpers and turn up his trousers — he has short legs — and he frequently mows my lawn).

But though we have finally and irrevocably called it a day emotionally we have never reached that moment where we want to talk about the split with friends and family. So we don’t. The upside? I keep my spouse membership at the golf club and we get a tax break when one of us dies, since we never changed our mirror wills.

Of course, there are issues. When we dropped the last child off at uni for the first time, I rattled around the empty nest in a perimenopausal fug while he hooked up with an old girlfriend. Still, we stayed married. I later discovered that he’d told his overambitious new squeeze that his wife would never agree to divorce him (untrue, but I let it go because I didn’t care for the new GF as a potential stepmother to my children). By then all our close friends had got divorced and remarried and were blending and unblending their stepfamilies, confounding family wedding invitation lists (“If he/she’s going, I’m not!”). As for me and my legally wedded husband, we turn up at graduations, christenings and funerals together, smile for the photographers and go quietly home to our respective partners. We remain devoted to our children, firm family friends and look forward to co-grandparenting one far-off day.

Would we get divorced now? I can’t really see the point. I’ve never shared my husband’s surname, and my wedding ring was taken with the rest of my jewellery when our house was burgled. Quite a few of our friends never knew we were married in the first place. Only our children know the truth of it — that although we married in haste we are now happily enjoying our leisurely repentance. Not together-together, but together-apart, if you know what I mean. We don’t feel that merits an announcement in The Times. I still think that marriage is a good idea if you can make it work, particularly if there are children involved. As they say, marriage is a great institution — for those who want to live in one.

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