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Donna Riccardi

I Do......Not



Sometimes hell hath no fury like a women's book club. Such was the experience I

encountered earlier this year at a meeting of my monthly book club, a group composed of

roughly twenty women aged 50 plus, empty-nested, some winding out of professional

careers, all of us trying to define the look and feel of our life’s next chapter. We meet the first

Thursday of each month, order the customary salad plus a protein, and sip on wine and

each other's perspectives. That month’s book was largely forgettable, but the surprising

discussion it sparked was not.

At the heart of the story were two broken and toxic marriages. The first involved an abusive,

diamond-smuggling megalomaniac who financially isolated his wife and replaced her with

his young assistant. The second centered on an average joe who lost his job, sank into

indulgent self-pity, and established long-term residency on the living room couch. Quite a

contrast on the My Baby Done Me Wrong Richter scale. So, it was interesting to observe

how quickly the first husband was laughingly dismissed as a cartoon-like trope, while the

second husband struck a chord. There was compassion for his depression and self-

paralysis, but there was also anger and disgust at the mounting pressures his wife carried to

keep their emotional, physical, and financial lives from collapsing. More strikingly, there was

weary recognition in the fixer role that women have been socialized to assume to support

their children, marriages, careers, and extended family members - and the cumulative toll all

that emotional management can take over time.   

I recently had a revealing conversation with a pastor who councils couples of all ages on

their relationships. She confided that her experience supports the reported trend of women

choosing to end their marriages later in life, often after decades with their spouses. She

explained that most of these women expressed their desire for a partner, but felt their

spouses primarily wanted a mother. For many women, it is not until later in life, after children

are raised, careers are established, and financial security is achieved, that they have the

time and ability to consider their own vision of self-fulfillment. And it is at this point that they

discover they want both more and less for themselves. The outcome (whether viewed as

fortunate or unfortunate) is a dissolved marriage and a stunned husband who frequently

didn’t see it coming.

As our book club discussion progressed, I shared something that I have known for many

years: if my marriage were to suddenly end and I found myself single, nothing in the world

could ever induce me to marry again. It was a guilty confession given the fact that I have a

great husband and a comfortable life, but, after years of multigenerational caretaking,

I have no desire to share that much of myself – or my bathroom – again. I thought I would be

largely alone in this feeling, so I was surprised when every woman in the room asserted the

same belief. We acknowledged the joy we find in our families and pride in the homes we

created, but not one of us could see the emotional reward of another marriage being worth

the resumption of the traditional caretaker role at this point in our lives. While the effects of

patriarchal gender roles are usually explored from a woman’s perspective, the moment

provided real insight on the fallout they also create for men.


The pastor provided hope at the end of our conversation by adding that many of the young

couples she meets with for premarital counseling today hold far more progressive and

equitable views on raising children, managing a household, and emotionally supporting their

partner, which should bode well for the future. I certainly hope this is the case, but it is hard

to ignore another segment of young men today who are aggressively doubling down on

archaic views of masculinity and gender roles. Both the pastor and my book club experience

suggest that ultimately these men may be setting themselves up to spend their later years

on their living room couches. Alone.

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