BEL MOONEY: Should I confront husband about his sexting?

Dear Bel,

I’ve been married for 43 years (with four children and seven grandchildren) and recently discovered my 68-year-old husband is sexting a young Korean girl.

He first did this four years ago and someone we know found out and told me. He confessed, broke down sobbing but couldn’t show me any texts as he’d deleted the account.

I was broken, too, but supported him.

He went to one counselling session but I felt he was soothed by the therapist and told it’s very common — rather than looking at the root issues or considering my feelings.

It took a lot to forgive but I did — insisting on transparency and access to each other’s phone. This has continued to be open as we share an Instagram account on his phone and he uses mine for photography.

I can easily flip from our Insta account to his private one and a few months ago I found a sexting message on his phone. I deleted the follower — then wished I’d taken photos as it’s very easy to deny. A month later he’d started following her again. And I deleted again, hoping he’d get the message.

Ask why I haven’t confronted him. I think it’s because I know he’ll just walk away, giving me hours of worry. But also because this is our life together and I enjoy it. We don’t have enough money to live separately. I’ve tried to look at life without my best friend of nearly 46 years. I know he still follows the girl and exchanges messages frequently.

My husband has low self esteem and few friends. He knows he is sinning but our shared Christian faith is not helping him at all.

I’m guessing he’s in the throes of addiction and I’m worried my outing him will spoil his relationship with the family and change everything. We do everything together, including babysitting.

I’m sad and physically sick. I took photographs of the last episode but he could access them on my phone if he was suspicious. I just wanted evidence. But does not speaking make me complicit or weak?

JANE

You sent me three screenshots of the messages, which was certainly an education. My first impression was it’s rather horrible, yet truly pathetic, for a man of 68 to be sending short, fatuous texts about underwear to a lovely young woman over 7,000 miles away.

Then I asked myself what on Earth that lovely girl was actually doing — wasting her time, leading on a sad old man with selfies of herself in matching bra and knickers.

When will she ask him to send her the airfare? Or a hefty contribution towards her rent/education/visits to the lingerie shop? It can only be a matter of time.

The exchanges were not even sleazy, just stupid. Yet this goes on all the time all over the world on the awful internet; human beings quite deliberately reducing themselves to foolish, impotent fantasy (him) and teasing greed (her). And potentially doing harm while they are about it. Yuk.

No wonder you are hurting so much. One of the worst things is to look at the person you love and see them as pitiful. Such moments can call into question the life you’ve led, as well as casting doubt over the future. Your uncut letter describes him as very moody and difficult. You also describe the lifestyle you share (omitted for privacy) which you greatly enjoy — not wanting to leave him, or it, even though he’s now making you very unhappy.

What to do? You must realise you cannot stay silent or I’m afraid you will certainly be enabling his behaviour. Which could indeed be called ‘complicit and weak’. You didn’t put up with it before so why should you now?

He must know you can see the ridiculous exchanges, so why should you protect him from scorn? Your loving family would be as shocked as you are by this family man grubbily obsessing about knickers with a girl young enough to be his granddaughter.

Whether you call it an ‘addiction’ or a ‘sin’, what matters is that it is an entirely unacceptable insult to you and must stop. You have to talk to him now and tell him exactly how it’s going to be — the price you require for staying in the marriage.

In your place I’d demand outright if he’s willing to sit down with you and talk to your four adult children about his ‘hobby’ — and your acute distress. If that sounds like a threat, so be it.

It’s time for you to be even stronger than you were the first time — and call the shots.

I yearn for peace for my feuding sons

Dear Bel,

Several years ago, I wrote to you about my quarrelling sons.

After a while things improved between them and I was so happy. Then this summer it all went pear-shaped again.

We were all agreed on a get-together but then one son wanted to change the timing at the last minute. The other one didn’t as he had other commitments. They were cross with each other as usual.

We did meet up in the end but the atmosphere between them grew colder. Then one son saw comments about him on my phone from his brother and off they went again.

They tell me how much they care about me but cannot see how their feuding upsets me.

My eldest son says he will stay away from family events so I can enjoy the others (ie, my other son and his family) in peace, but that is not a solution.

I am now in my mid- 70s and not at my best. For the first time in my life I feel sometimes I haven’t got it within me to keep going. I don’t yearn for them to be best friends but just occasionally would like to see them and the grandkids all together peacefully and pleasantly — even if it’s only once a year. Am I being unreasonable?

Yes I am sad about this on-going family issue and can’t shake it off. What’s more, I am now looking after my mother who has a serious diagnosis — so feel I am being ground down more and more. It’s hard to know what to do.

ISLA

Are you ‘being unreasonable’? Of course not. I tried to find your original letter for more detail but, unsurprisingly, I failed. Over the years there’ve been many similar family problems on this page, so I know many readers will identify with your distress.

In simply wanting peace and harmony as you grow older, you are the reasonable one. Is it too much to ask? Yes, apparently so — for two sons who seem to choose to put their petty (or even serious) squabbles before their mother’s welfare.

That word ‘choose’ is so important. When Shakespeare’s Hamlet tells his friends, ‘There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so’ he is emphasising the importance of perspective in our lives. How and what we think can be controlled, if the will is there to do that.

This fundamental truth is behind the success of cognitive behavioural therapy, which aims to shift the way a person thinks about his or her situation in life and break down patterns of behaviour. Many people feel helpless a lot of the time, but need to be assured that there are many ways (some small) to take control, if you but try.

Your sons could stop squabbling if they wanted to, and focus on your needs, especially now their grandmother is so ill and you are worried and tired because of looking after her.

They could be mature and control themselves for at least a few hours when the family meets. They could consider the effect their conflicts are having on their own children. But they don’t. So should we conclude that being resentful and angry is more important to them than anything else? If so, why? Or is their conflict a sign of something deeper and far more sad, with roots in their childhood?

Was one jealous of the other? Was one more successful at school or sport or girlfriends? Whatever the history, if they are very different personalities, would it be better not to try to arrange regular family get-togethers, and just try once a year?

Christmas is approaching: a time when, sadly, many family disagreements are thrown into sharp focus. I’m sorry to say there is little you can do to change their feelings about each other, and since you now have your mother to think about, I suggest you step back.

I’m sure you’ve shown how upset you are, but I recommend a change of ‘face’ — when you calmly tell them enough is enough and it is now time to put their grandmother first. Yes, even if calm is the last thing you feel.

This year I’d try for Christmastime events with each family in turn, since I imagine a lot of noisy people might be tiring for your mother. Isla, you and I are of a generation — and I confess I absolutely recognise that feeling of utter weariness: ‘I feel sometimes I haven’t got it within me to keep going.’ But we have to, don’t we?

As long as there are people who love us and depend on us we have to get out of bed in the morning and face the day.

I just hope your sons read this page and realise how they are wasting their time on this Earth with their petty, selfish squabbles, and acknowledge that when they are left without a mother they will profoundly regret having upset her so much.

And finally… Brotherly love in face of tragedy

Have you ever laughed and cried at the same time? That’s how it was when I listened to a programme on Radio 4 on Tuesday. Called (with bitter-sweet irony) The Bright Side Of Life, it was a tender conversation between two brothers about living with motor neurone disease.

My former husband, the broadcaster and historian Jonathan Dimbleby, was talking to his young brother, renowned sculptor Nicholas, who was diagnosed in January. Nobody could listen without feeling pity, terror and awe.

I first met Nick — so tall, strong and handsome — when we were both students, aged 21. Now 77, he is afflicted by a cruel disease with no known cure, yet somehow managed to summon up spiritual lightness within a failing body. ‘I’ve had a good life’ he said, ‘but now I’ve got a sell-by date on me.’

He recounts how he told his older brother the dreadful news with a quip: ‘They’ll have to call me Dwindleby — I’m going to dwindle away.’ When their new kitten comes into the kitchen, he breaks off wryly: ‘You’re talking about death and the kitten comes in and… it’s… “Get over it, mate”.’

Nick sits outside on a beautiful summer day as house martins wheel above. He says: ‘Trying to live by the day is so difficult and so important. I watch the birds and celebrate life.’ He even tries to sing the silly song from The Life Of Brian which gives the two programmes their title.

He and his devoted brother talked about Dignitas, wanting to be in charge of your departure from pain, and the charity Dignity in Dying (of which I’m a member). Nick chose to do the interviews because he wants the issue to be out in the open.

It was exquisitely poignant and inspirational listening to brothers having such an honest, difficult and loving conversation. To catch up, visit the Radio 4 website and enter the programme title in the search box. The second episode is this coming Tuesday at 4pm. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.