I live in senior living, and a friend’s behavior has been bothering me. I’m not very close with this friend, but she’s fallen for a married man who’s been aggressively pursuing her. The man is also in my social circle, but not close. His wife had a stroke 20-plus years ago and can neither speak nor care for herself. The wife is still attractive and lovable, and I like her very much.
I feel resentful of my friend’s behavior, as it must be hurtful for the wife. My friend and this married man go on golf trips, take walks and play games together, and people say the husband visits my friend’s apartment on the sly.
I feel like a hypocrite by being nice to my friend while disapproving of her behavior. I’m also wary of being honest with her. She would still sit at our table and join our social games, and I wouldn’t be able to continue playing my “nice” role that I’m most comfortable with.
What should I do?
From the Therapist: I can understand why a mismatch between how you act toward a friend and how you feel about her behavior makes you uncomfortable. But instead of framing this as hypocrisy, maybe you can distill your question like this: What does it mean to be a good person in this situation — one who holds the complexity of everyone’s pain and acknowledges the limits of what I can actually know?
Let’s start by considering some context. While you’re imagining how you would feel if you were this wife, you don’t actually know how she feels. As a therapist, I’ve had the privilege of helping couples have hard but important conversations, including about their wishes for what might happen if one of them were to become severely incapacitated. Interestingly, many (but not all) couples have said that they would want their spouses to be present and take care of them every day, that they would want to be loved and treated with dignity, but that they also would not want their partner turned long-term caretaker to experience the abject loneliness that can set in when you have a spouse who’s “there but not there.”
Of course, these conversations are hypothetical — nobody can know how they’ll react to something life-changing until it happens. But these discussions still require deep soul-searching, rigorous honesty with oneself and one’s partner, and often a sense of generosity borne of profound love. What does “there but not there” mean? At what point might a circumstance become intolerable? What would companionship look like?
No matter how these couples clarify their wishes, going through this process can be very meaningful, an exquisite act of intimacy.
Neither you nor those in the senior residence who have commented on what they’ve observed know what conversations this husband and his wife had before her stroke. Nor do you know how the wife feels now, 20 years out, even if she and her husband never discussed this kind of scenario. So while your empathy for his wife is admirable, it might not reflect her reality.
Keeping these factors in mind will help you examine why you’re considering talking to your friend and what outcome you’re hoping for. For instance: Are you hoping to change your friend’s behavior? If so, be aware that your conversation with her probably won’t have that effect. But even if it does, what happens if the husband finds another companion in this community who’s also your friend? Will you talk to each woman he gets involved with?
Are you hoping that your friend will explain herself in a way that makes you feel better about being “nice” to her? If her response doesn’t satisfy you, are you willing to potentially lose a friend — even a not-very-close one — in this residential living community where you share meals and activities on a regular basis?
Perhaps you’re hoping you’ll feel like less of a hypocrite if you speak up and do “the right thing,” according to your moral barometer. It’s possible that you might feel better, but it may not help the wife you like and care about in any tangible way. Besides, you can’t know that you did “the right thing” without knowing how the husband and wife feel about their own situation.
You haven’t suggested the possibility of sharing your concerns about the wife’s well-being with her husband, who you say is also in your social circle, nor have you suggested approaching his wife. (While you say she can’t speak, you don’t say whether she can understand a conversation or communicate nonverbally.) But if you’re considering either, I’d suggest asking yourself similar questions about the outcome you’re hoping for.
For instance, would knowing that her husband is spending time with your friend — if she doesn’t already — bring the wife relief (“I knew something was off, now it makes sense”) or would it trap her in pain she has no way to release or discuss?
Would confronting the husband, if indeed he’s going behind his wife’s back, benefit his wife or could his golf trips, walks, conversations and even intimacy after 20 years of living like this — and perhaps 20 more to come — make him able to be more present for his wife in her current state? (Again, this is a particular circumstance, not a way to excuse infidelity more generally.) What if what works for these people in an incredibly challenging long-term situation is more important than how you feel about it?
So let’s revisit this question: What does it mean to be a good person in this situation — one who holds the complexity of everyone’s pain and acknowledges the limits of what you can actually know?
I land on staying out of it. After taking inventory of your motives and the possible outcomes, you might land there too.
Want to Ask the Therapist? If you have a question, email [email protected]. By submitting a query, you agree to our reader submission terms. This column is not a substitute for professional medical advice.
Lori Gottlieb is a psychotherapist and the author of the best-selling book “Maybe You Should Talk to Someone.” She offers readers advice on life’s tough questions in the “Ask the Therapist” column.
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