Maybe you should accept that your life is different now, and moving on in different and fulfilling directions. Do you really envy your London friends and their party train to nowhere? Why not throw a party at home? Start living where your life is. You have so much to cherish – are you really going to choose a mirror ball and the queue for the coat check over a loving family?
Dear Graham,
When I was about 13, some friends and I raided my mother’s wardrobe and fooled about putting on her clothes and make-up. To the others it was just a bit of fun, but over the years I found myself sneaking off on my own to try on my mother’s and sister’s clothes. Now 27, I work as a trader for a City bank, in a notoriously alpha-male environment. I have a girlfriend, who I met about three months ago, and on the surface life is good. The problem is that I cannot stop my secret cross-dressing habit. When I am at home on my own, I dig out my frocks, slap on make-up and dance around the sitting room to Gloria Gaynor.
My friends, colleagues and girlfriend have no idea. To them, I am a sports-mad man-about-town. But inside I am in turmoil. I want to be able to wear skirts and make-up in public and stop harbouring this guilty burden. I know I am not gay, I just want to be myself.
Mark F, Hoxton
Dear Mark,
Enjoy your secret! If it was truly acceptable, if you could casually wander into the pub wearing polka-dot pedal-pushers (very now, by the way), would you bother? Or would you just throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt? Remember Eddie Izzard? As soon as people stopped making a fuss of the fact that he wore women’s clothes, he stopped doing it.
At some point, it might be good to tell your girlfriend about your secret. Three months into the relationship might be too soon, but certainly the woman needs to know before you get married or move in together, otherwise she’ll think she’s going mad when all her clothes seem to be stretched. Meanwhile, there is nothing better than a forbidden pleasure so revel in it.
PS: if you don’t want people to think you are gay, them catching you in an off-the-shoulder peasant dress isn’t a worry, but if anyone finds you dancing to Gloria Gaynor, I suggest you leave the country.
Dear Graham,
I noticed a strange thing the other day among my late 30-something peer group. Many of the people I know who have made a success of their lives seem to have had enormous quantities of psychotherapy. When they were going through it, I felt rather sorry for them – they left their jobs, remortgaged their homes and cut rather lonely, pitiful figures.
But now I realise that they were taking valuable time out to reassess things. They weren’t pitiful at all; in fact, they were braver and more imaginative. When they changed direction, the results were often dramatic, whereas I feel as if I’ve been blindly rushing in the same direction all my life, with no plan.
Should I arrange to see a psychotherapist, even though I’m not sure what my problem is exactly, other than being less successful than most of my friends?
Patrick W, west London
Dear Patrick,
What’s wrong with you? Nothing. What’s your problem? Oh, you don’t have one.
Seriously, Patrick, look at your life again. Why aren’t you content? Some friends have been more successful than you. As we reach our late thirties, those sorts of disparities are bound to occur, with or without the help of therapy, and you must learn to live with the financial good fortune of your friends or get new friends or a better job. Those are the options.
I would never tell someone not to get therapy – I’m sure it can help all of us in some way – but, if you are worried about money, I can’t see that shelling out cash on a shrink is a brilliant plan.
Surely there is a way to work through your jealousy. Instead of thinking, ‘I don’t have a swimming pool and John does,’ think, ‘Hurrah, my friend John has a pool so I can go and use it.’
Your friends must have ended up in pretty dark places in their lives to go through the dramatic changes they did. Be grateful that you have never reached the lows that drove them into therapy.
Dear Graham,
This weekend I discovered my husband of 23 years has been talking to a woman on the telephone for three years. He met her through work and claims it is a platonic relationship. When I confronted him about it, he said that they never actually meet up, all they do is chat on the phone.
I have checked our telephone statements and they have certainly done a huge amount of chatting. When I asked my husband why he hadn’t told me about his special ‘friend’, he said that there was no point telling me because I would react in a jealous way. I am devastated because we have been together since we were teenagers and I thought we had a good relationship. My husband insists I am overreacting.
Should I forgive and forget?
LL, Suffolk
Dear L,
This is a tricky one but I’m glad you’ve written to me because the worst thing you could do is to react in the heat of the moment. I can only imagine how you felt when you discovered these calls, but let’s examine the evidence. Your husband is not pretending that he has been talking to this woman about work or that she shares the number with one of his male friends. Either he was too stupid to think of these easy excuses or he’s telling you the truth.
If I were you, I would ask him what he is talking to her about that he can’t discuss with you. And why, in three years, have they not started to meet? If your husband is being honest, then you have nothing to worry about, but I suspect he is blurring the truth a bit. It’s hard to think that these conversations haven’t veered into the sexual arena.
If they are just friends, why don’t you ask her to come over to dinner and see how they both react? Whoever this woman is and whatever she is getting out of this odd arrangement, I think you should try to weather the storm. You’ve been with your husband for 23 years and he doesn’t want to let you go. Don’t hang up on him.
Dear Graham,
I’m a healthy male in my thirties from a strait-laced, Presbyterian background (my father is a clergyman). I recently ‘came out’ and am struggling to adapt to the casual, no-strings culture of the gay scene. The problem is that I tend to get heavy and serious too quickly and this puts a lot of men off. Although I have no problem getting dates, I never seem to be able to hang on to them, and this leaves me feeling used and despondent. I have many (mainly heterosexual) friends, but I long to have a proper partner for doing couply things like walking the dog and going to Ikea. Do I give off the wrong signals?
Luke D, Kent
“Dogs and DIY are where relationships end up, not where they start.”
Dear Luke,
You have to run before you can walk. Dogs and DIY are where relationships end up, not where they start. For now, you’re trapped on the dance floor working your way through a lot of frogs. It may take time to find your prince, but, if the worst that happens is a deal of casual sex before you and Rover tackle the flatpack coffee table, how bad is that?
Sex without love may not be ideal, but it is still sex. You might be doing it slightly later in life than most, but enjoy your own personal coming-out party. As I said to an earlier correspondent, you had better enjoy life with yourself before you can enjoy it with someone else.
Don’t worry: one day you’ll have your wedding list at Ikea and a reception with a DJ who talks too much. It might make me feel sick, but if that’s what you want…
Dear Graham,
About six months ago, my 75-year-old mother-in-law came to live with us, having declared that she was too frail to live on her own. My Italian husband would not hear of putting her in a nursing home or employing a carer. He works long hours and expects me to be the dutiful daughter-in-law, attending to his mother’s every need.
In front of my husband she acts fragile, but as soon as he leaves she orders me around like a servant. I know the old battle-axe is capable of looking after herself, but she plays me off against my husband and he refuses to believe me. It has put an incredible strain on our marriage, to th
e extent that I am tempted to leave. Our children have all grown up so there is nothing keeping me, except that deep down I still love my husband and I am afraid of being on my own.
Teresa C, Twickenham
Dear Teresa,
I pity you. Coming between an Italian man and his mother is only marginally less dangerous than finding yourself standing between John Prescott and a pie. In either case the advice is the same: show no fear and don’t move. Remember that, despite the appearance of Mama, it’s still your house. You are in charge, you are not a servant.
Explain this to your mother-in-law, making sure that she knows either things can get better, or they can get worse. Deep down she must be aware that, as bad as things may get between you and your husband, he is hardly likely to ask you to leave.
Difficult though it may be, spare a thought for the old lady, she is in a very difficult situation too and obviously isn’t coping very well with handing over authority to a younger woman. Try to give her some independence or pretend to care about her opinion. What you have in common is that you both love her son. If, however, she is as possessive and manipulative as she sounds, it may be too late for any conciliatory gestures and time for war.
Perhaps you could feign an illness, so she is forced to look after herself, or your husband is forced to agree to the arrival of a carer. Another good ploy is to make your husband think that she is lying by hiding food in her room or hiding her belongings so she starts to look really gaga. It’s mean, but at least it stops you being the victim. It also sounds like this new living arrangement is having no negative effect on your husband’s life. That needs to change. Are there things he enjoys? Night outs? Golf trips? Make sure that somehow these are affected because you have to stay at home to look after his mother.
Whatever happens, Teresa, don’t ask your husband to choose between you and his mother. Tragically, he is certain to choose her. Men are born babies and never really change.
Dear Graham,
My sister is perfect and can do no wrong. At least in the eyes of my parents. She is blonde and blue-eyed and has a glamorous career working for an investment bank in the City. Sporty and vivacious, she always has a string of men queuing up to take her out. I am her older sister, but sometimes I feel like her shadow. Referred to by my mother recently as ‘a bit of a plodder’, my career as a laboratory researcher does not make for stimulating dinner-party chat. I am constantly being told to ‘be more like Susie’, and often left out of family conversations altogether. I love my sister but I can’t help feeling inadequate next to her.
Rosie P, Truro
Dear Rosie,
This isn’t your problem. You have chosen your life and career – if it is ‘plodding’, then that is obviously a pace you are comfortable with. The people with a problem are your parents. Not to put too fine a point on it, their parenting skills are very poor indeed. Children should never feel they have to do something just to please their mum and dad. After they are long dead, you will still be living with the consequences.
Try to step outside your family unit and see it objectively. She may be prettier than you, I don’t know, but don’t ever think that a career as an investment banker is ‘glamorous’. I for one would shed silent tears of boredom if I had to sit next to your sister at a dinner party. Just imagine how monumentally boring and objectionable all the people she works with must be. Pity your sister and see your parents for the inadequate people they are. Live your life for you. It’s not a competition.
Dear Graham,
What exactly are men looking for in a woman? I am in my mid-thirties and have been single for as long as I can remember. With the exception of the odd drunken kiss, I barely seem to so much as dangle a toe in the water. I have tried speed dating, but find it shallow and contrived. Dating websites just throw up dull men who work in IT. I am beginning to despair, as all my friends are now married with children. Where am I going wrong? Everyone tells me I am attractive and fun to be with, so I don’t understand.
Katie P, Lincolnshire
Dear Katie,
Live your life! Find happiness in the life you do have, rather than wait for the happiness that some fictional life of the future might bring. We have all come home and stared at our empty bed wondering why there is no one to share it with. But at other times we have all woken up wishing that the person whose head is on the other pillow wasn’t there.
Your friends may be getting married, but look closely – how many of those relationships would you really like to be in? You turn down boring IT guys, but if you really needed someone else to validate your existence you would be reading Computer Programming for Dummies instead of writing to me.
There have to be things you like about your single life that mean you are not willing to ‘settle’. Focus on these things. Indulge your every desire, fill your life with secret pleasures. Iron your sheets, light candles. Spend the night watching your favourite movies, snuggling up to Ben, Jerry and a spoon.
Boyfriends come and go, but the only person you are sure to spend the rest of your life with is yourself, so you had better enjoy her and treat her well. You are strong: people are envious of you. A shared life might seem like the perfect one right now, but experience tells us that it ends with a single heart ripped in two.
Dear Graham,
Why is the dating game so difficult? I’m an average bloke in my early thirties, but I find it hard to read the signals. I’ve never been good at body language and the women I come across make such an effort with their appearance that it’s impossible to know if they’re trying to impress me or just being themselves. On a date, should I break the ice with a joke? Some girls laugh at my one about the two nuns in a bath and others look down their noses.
The biggest dilemma is money. Should I accept if a girl offers to split the bill? I’m told they hate any hint of stinginess, but how can that be when most of them protest (albeit weakly) if I insist on picking up the tab? And in this politically correct age, isn’t it better to go Dutch?
Will F, Bristol
“Feel free to be funny, but do it with stories and comments rather than punchlines that are older than Anne Robinson”
Dear Will,
I worry for you. Don’t you have friends? Has no one talked you through this before? Women dress for dates because they want to look good for others and feel good about themselves. Lipstick doesn’t automatically mean that a woman is a slag.
Now on to jokes. Nobody wants to hear a joke – no man, no woman, never. The ones who manage to fake a laugh are just moving their heads to try to see the nearest exit. Feel free to be funny, but do it with stories and comments rather than punchlines that are older than Anne Robinson.
Finally, money. Women only want to go Dutch so that they can go straight home and never see you again without feeling guilty. Will, I would despair, but the fact that women agree to go out with you at all suggests that you must have something going for you. Remember who that Will is and let women get to know him.
Dear Graham,
Can opposites really attract? As a dedicated vegan and eco-warrior, I find it abhorrent that people eat food that has caused suffering to animals. I am always finding ways to recycle and save the planet, from washing my clothes in the bath to using low-wattage light bulbs.
I recently met the most knee-tremblingly handsome man. We’ve enjoyed a couple of dates and when he walked me home last weekend and kissed me I saw stars. However, the awful truth is that this Adonis is a Tory-supporting bloodsports enthusiast who works for a bank and represents everything I detest. He guzzles steak, uses a tumble dryer and leaves his television on stand-by. I feel that, out of principle, I should never see him again. What would you do in my (non-leather) shoes?
Becky G, north London
“Climbing the stairs anticipating a romantic candlelit bath only to be confronted by your dungarees and pants soaking in a murky grey soup will dampen any man’s ardour.”
Dear Becky,
If I were you, I’d ta
ke the clothes out of the bath, get in and slit my wrists, but happily I’m not you. Your problem provokes so many questions. How did you meet your Adonis? Do the Tories know they have an Adonis in their ranks and, if so, why isn’t he the leader instead of the milky-breasted creature they have now? And the greatest mystery of all: why is a rat-haired tree-hugger like you reading the Telegraph?
Essentially, Becky, you don’t have a problem because the ravishing right-winger will dump you very swiftly. True, taking a vegan out to dinner is fabulously cheap, but it’s hard to really enjoy your bloody hunk of lamb if the person opposite you is eating something that looks like it has already been digested. Equally, climbing the stairs anticipating a romantic candlelit bath only to be confronted by your dungarees and pants soaking in a murky grey soup will dampen any man’s ardour.
When Mr Right-wing realises that you are Ms Wrong, perhaps you could set your sights on David Cameron – he’s been to India, you know. That’s all I have to say, Becky, so please fold this paper neatly and take it straight to recycling.
Dear Graham,
I’m in my early forties and the tick-tock of my biological clock has become thunderous. I’ve been with my boyfriend for a couple of years and know he is open to the idea of having kids. The problem is that I’m not in love with him any more. I’m fond of him and believe he would probably make a decent father, but the passion just isn’t there. Would it be deceitful of me to go ahead and try to have a child with him, given the ambivalence of my feelings?
Nancy P, Aviemore
Dear Nancy,
Ask Graham Page 2
