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DRS. MOSCHETTA'S COMMENTS:
"Nat and Joan were so alienated from each other that our initial counseling sessions served as a sounding board as well as a vehicle to help them break the communication barrier,” note the Moschettas.
The marriage had been rocky for the last five years but had deteriorated rapidly in the last two. They shared a home and little else and were only able to talk to each other in our offices, where we could act as referees.
Having endured her father’s abusive rages, Joan was actually terrified of confrontation. In her marriage, she avoided arguing and would gladly suppress her own feelings if it meant avoiding a fight. Of course, by avoiding arguing, she was also avoiding communication of any kind. Nat is a hail-fellow-well-met kind of guy; he is gregarious and hearty, in sharp contrast to his demure wife. If he has something on his mind, he’s not afraid to say it. He is also an openly affectionate man, and Joan is not. However, he had a hair-trigger temper that scared Joan and obliterated any chance they might have had for having a real, balanced conversation.
When they first came to see us, Nat and Joan each insisted they were right and refused to see the other’s point of view. While it was a positive sign that they continued to come week after week to talk about their situation, we were at an impasse until the fifth session.
Here’s what happened: Even though they lived just one town over from ours, Nat and Joan would get lost every time they came to our office. Nat, who would usually drive, would always try to take a shortcut and get them lost on the way. One evening, after riding around in circles for the better part of an hour, they ended up by the town duck pond. Upon seeing it, they both burst out laughing. That broke the ice. As Joan revealed, `I realized we had stopped having fun. I couldn’t remember the last time we laughed together. It felt so good. It struck me then that if you know someone for such a long time, plenty changes. You get old, you get fat, you get bald--but if you can keep your sense of humor, you’ll be okay.’ In fact, as a prelude to the rest of their sessions, they would visit that same duck pond on purpose, just to sit and chat before they came to see us.
Joan had lost sight of the importance of putting her marriage first. We told her forcefully, 'Your marriage must always be your number-one priority. It is the best gift you can give your children, too.’
Joan was genuinely puzzled to hear Nat say he didn’t feel loved. Though she was not overly affectionate, and never had been, she was sure he knew how she felt. `I’ve always taken such wonderful care of him. I keep the house clean and launder his clothes, I plan the meals around foods he loves. . . . That’s an expression of love, isn’t it?
We told Joan that, yes, it is, but that wasn’t what Nat wanted. `You need to say I love you outright, to give him a hug, to become more fully involved in lovemaking.’ Joan listened and said she understood, but for some reason resisted making the changes.
That’s when another breakthrough occurred: During one of their talks at the duck pond, Joan reminded Nat that after their last natural child, she had been very upset that he had refused to have a vasectomy. `I think I have resented you--unconsciously, maybe--all this time because of that. I had asked you to take some responsibility for birth control and the fact that you wouldn’t do that for me hurt.’ Clearly, for many years, Joan had avoided and repressed her hostile feelings. Recognizing this was the first step in beginning to change the relationship--as well as beginning a new pattern of sharing deep feelings with each other.
Another breakthrough occurred during one session when Nat spoke in touching terms about how mechanical his life has become. Rather than complain or attack, he revealed his sadness and his loneliness. This confession had a huge impact on Joan. She was able to hear, for the first time, the feelings behind her husband’s words. And she understood that he was hurting as much as she was.
That had a dramatic effect on the shy Joan. Though previously reluctant to initiate lovemaking, she revealed another side to herself that evening. Nat came to the next session beaming: 'She did it!’ he exulted. `She closed the door, she got out a sexy nightgown--which I didn’t even think she owned--and we had sex. . . twice!’ As Joan discovered, while feelings trigger behavior, in many cases, the opposite is true as well. If you change the way you act or react to your partner, the good feelings engendered can have an energizing impact on your relationship.
In the following weeks, Joan took other courageous emotional steps. She issued a rule that from now on, the bedroom door was to be closed at 9:30 P.M. After that time, Nat and Joan were not to be disturbed unless it was a true emergency (as Joan put it, `Only if you see blood'). The children had to respect their parents’ privacy. And they understood and accepted this with much less difficulty than Joan ever anticipated. For the first week, John, in protest, slept on the floor outside their room, but now he’s sharing a room with his brother--quite happily.
Nat appreciates how difficult establishing this rule, and making all the other changes, has been for Joan. He has committed himself to controlling his temper. Now that Joan has put their marriage high on her list of priorities and she lets Nat know that he is loved, he doesn’t get as resentful as he used to. Joan also has worked hard to stick to her budget and refrain from using credit cards. When the family finances are under control, Nat is much more relaxed. He’s toying with the idea, however, of switching jobs. `I know at my age and level of experience, it won’t be easy, but I want a life that’s less demanding, less stressful, one that gives me time to be with my wife,’ he says.
The Marders were in counseling for four months. Though their divisions were deep initially, they made such quick progress because they are both genuinely nice people whose values are fundamentally in sync. Joan will most likely never change her permissive attitude toward her children, but as Nat remarked at one of our last sessions, `Some battles you just have to stop fighting.’ Indeed, these two are so much more attuned to each other that this complaint has dramatically decreased in importance. `Now, you could say that I’m number four on Joan’s list,’ he quips. `That’s progress!’ ”


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