When
the wife is the breadwinner: Easing off in middle age may not be
an option
National Post
Saturday, March 15, 2003
Page: SP8
Section: Saturday Post: Life
Byline: Dr. Jean Marmoreo
Column: Middle Ages
Source: Saturday Post
The dramatic second act in some marriages, where women are the main
breadwinners, often doesn't unfold until middle age.
"He's so mild," one woman told me, about
her husband. "I told him he should have been born to gentry.
His idea of life is to just do good works .... If he wants ...
to change his life, he has to find it himself. I don't have the
energy."
Twice this mom has put herself through school,
and twice, she has managed to resurrect her career. She's not
particularly happy with her work, but when she lost her job in
the provincial government's last cull of teachers, five years
ago, she found herself on the retraining tightrope. The new job
has involved plenty of shift work, time away and difficult working
conditions, but she's tough, and determination is one of her
well-polished attributes.
She's been the major breadwinner for some
time. While she was retraining, she appreciated that her husband,
who was unemployed at the time, could be at home with the children.
Dependency on that one income was the reason they moved out of
the city, even though it meant longer commutes for mom. That
was then.
This is now. Her husband has finally found
work in his area of expertise. The kids have become teenagers
and, improbable as it seems, have no apparent problems. All of
which is outstanding. So, what's the problem?
Sure, juggling hockey games, supervising
homework, and negotiating teenage claims to the family car have
made mom somewhat weary. The mortgage is not yet paid off and,
as a result, she has to guard the purse-strings and pinch pennies
when she'd rather be generous. But that isn't what gets her down.
Rather, it's her man's endless seeking, sighing, and yearning
for meaning and joy in his work. To her, happiness in one's work
seems a luxury, one she's long since given up on.
And the thing that really wears her down
is the realization that, after years of toil, long after her
kids are out on their own, she'll still be burdened with an eternal
child. Lately, mom has begun to realize that she has withdrawn
emotionally from her mate.
Another highly competent and high-earning
mom is tired of always having to wear the pants in the family.
"I can't believe he can't manage his own
office," she explodes. "He pays his secretary more than he pays
himself .... All those years of training, preparing for the Bar,
all those years in a firm that actually provided an income. Oh,
for sure he hated being a small cog in a big wheel, and that's
why he went out on his own. I just assumed he would know how
to handle the money. Well, it's been years, and there's no money
coming yet."
The yoke of the family's finances is beginning
to chafe. She wonders what her husband does all day that, apparently,
keeps him so busy yet generates so little remuneration. She holds
her tongue , but her look says it all - anger, disappointment,
failed expectations.
The truth is, he really isn't any different
now than when they were first lovers, in law school. That was
his great appeal -- the dreaminess, the altruism, the high goals.
He was the foil for her doggedness and drive. In some ways, it
gave her a borrowed softness, something she knew would never
be part of her persona. Willingly, she took on the task of managing
the money, the household and the children. She's efficient, methodical
and tireless.
So, when did she begin to feel she was the
sole plough horse? When did she become the harpy?
Is either of these women about to leave
her partner and cast him out to fend for himself? It's unlikely.
They are both good and decent men; that's not in doubt. They
are loving fathers, and, based on their records of never having
strayed, they're loving mates.
Nor does either woman feel inclined to cast
a fly-rod for extra-marital titillation herself. For one thing,
they're both too tired and worn out. And the problem, unrecognized
even as they have subtly endorsed and enabled the dreamer in
their lives, is simply that they need his soft side to balance
their own hard edge.
These are women who love a challenge, and
whose sense of worth rests in big accomplishments. But now, as
some of their goals have been realized -- the work is solid,
the kids are "brinking" -- suddenly, fatigue has fallen upon
them.
They're looking to ease off a little, to
rely on their other half for a change, hoping to work less hard.
A reasonable mid-life goal, you'd think.
But, whoops, the dreamer is still seeking.
Clearly, his goal is not financial stability-- it never has been.
So, when the harpy comes after him, demanding an accounting,
ranting at his incompetent budgeting, he doesn't get it.
In the end, these husbands and wives are
complementary and essential to one another, two halves of a whole.
Like Venus and Mars -- in reverse. The thing that attracted them
to each other in their youth, a quality admired, desired and
perhaps found wanting in themselves, remains a steady flame.
The women will get their second wind, and find new challenges.
As that happens, the path will become clear again, allowing them
to grow older -- and happier -- with their husbands.
Edition: National
Story Type: Column
Note: Middle Ages appears every other week.
Length: 900 words
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