I left my job and friends, and the isolation only intensified the void. Overnight, I went from being a person of semi-celebrity status to the wife of a man I hardly knew. I remember walking in our door one day several weeks after our move and thinking to myself, “How did I get here? Six months ago I didn’t know this man and now he is my husband.” There were still the constant interruptions in our life, leaving little time to build a relationship.
I aired my view to Michael that a marriage needs time and work if it is to grow and survive. I went through a bitter divorce and knew how difficult marriage could be. Michael strongly disagreed—he believed that as long as two people loved each other, this was enough. I tried to win Michael over to my way of thinking, but he kept verbally beating me down with his tongue-lashings. I usually gave in just to keep the peace.
By the sixth month of marriage, our sex life deteriorated rapidly. I felt as though Michael were making love to me more out of obligation than desire. As the months wore on, the frequency continued to decrease. Our sexual activity was reduced to once or twice a month.
When the pattern of diminishing sex started, I spoke to Michael about it. He replied that we were no longer newlyweds, and that married couples don’t have sex all of the time. He suggested that something might be wrong with me—perhaps I was a “nymphomaniac.” I snapped back that wanting to make love with my husband two or three times a week did not classify me as a sex maniac, but Michael ignored my words. On several occasions, when I brought up our sex life, he became defensive, saying that his lack of interest was due to various pressures, such as financial problems. At other times, he lashed out at me, claiming that my pushiness was a “turn-off” to him. It was difficult for me to think that wanting to make love with my husband was “pushy,” but psychologically, his rejection took its toll on me. By the end of our first year of marriage, I learned to keep the thoughts about sex to myself, not wanting to turn Michael off more than he already was.
Between the lack of privacy in our home and the lack of intimacy in our bedroom, I became more depressed. Michael found quality time for everyone else in his life, from the members of his group to his family. Their problems always became his priorities. When I brought up the idea of marriage counseling, he refused to consider it. He claimed that if there were problems in our marriage, they were my problems. He was content in the marriage and didn’t need counseling.
At the end of our first year of marriage, we moved to an apartment closer to the city. The move seemed to do miracles for our marriage. Michael became attentive to me for the first time since our courtship, and I felt that our marriage was becoming solid. Our sex life didn’t improve, but I hoped that it would if given some time. “Don’t push,” I told myself. “It will happen on its own with time.” People often commented that the first year of marriage is the most difficult, and I was determined to make our second year a better one.
What really made me optimistic was the news I learned a week before our anniversary—I was pregnant! We were so excited, each for different reasons. Michael’s family life had been unstable and having children represented the security and sense of belonging that he wanted. Michael believed a child would be someone who belonged to him. He wanted the chance to give his own child the love and security he missed growing up.
I desperately wanted a child because I thought it would bond our marriage and give Michael the stability he needed. I thought that a baby would change Michael’s need for his group and instead allow him to focus his energies on his family.
Two months before the baby’s birth, I convinced Michael to move from New York to my hometown of Philadelphia. My family lived there, and I wanted to be near them when the baby arrived. This would be the first grandchild in our family, and I wanted my mother and younger sisters to be able to enjoy the baby. I also knew that a hundred-mile move would end the continuing intrusions we had from Michael’s youth group members.
For the next few months, I felt that my decision to get married paid off. Michael treated me with the love and affection that had attracted me to him when we first met. I knew how important the baby was to him because he was willing to uproot his life in New York and move away from all that was important to him. Part of his change in attitude for the better was also the fact that our sex life was non-existent during my pregnancy. I had some early complications, and we both decided not to take a chance of a miscarriage by any sexual stimulation. This took the pressure off Michael. When our daughter, Stephanie, was born in 1980, I felt our family was complete, and I was finally at peace.
Michael was a doting father from the first day. He would rush home after work to feed Stephanie and rock her to sleep in his arms singing lullabies. Michael went to bed early so he could take care of her 6:00 a.m. feedings before going to work. He carried her pictures everywhere and brought home a new toy every day for months.
Unfortunately, my false sense of security diminished as the months went on. Michael was overly gregarious, and within a short time, he became the local pied piper and attracted a small group of local troubled teenagers to mentor. Several of his New York members started coming in on Sunday mornings and stayed for the day, invading our new home. Once again, I started to feel like I was living in a teen-age youth center.
Michael made sure to distance the members of his group from me, forbidding them to tell me anything discussed during their sessions. If I asked them how the meetings went, they made it clear that they were not allowed to give any information to “outsiders.” They were polite, but made me feel unwelcome in my own home.
Michael’s new group consisted of adolescents in their late teens. They all had certain characteristics in common, such as a lack of self-confidence, unstable family lives, poor grades in school, no concrete future aspirations, and an unwavering state of devotion to Michael. I started to view this group as a mini-cult because Michael was involved in all decision-making in their lives. Even though Michael was an excellent mentor, it didn’t seem reasonable for them to be this dependent on their leader.
Some of the member’s families were annoyed because they seemed to have lost control over their own children. Michael wasn’t fazed by the criticisms. He justified it by stating that the parents were to blame for the problems that were there. He believed he was changing their lives in a positive direction because he was able to give them the care and guidance their parents didn’t give them. Part of Michael’s success was making these teens feel as though each one was the most important part of Michael’s life. He spent hours with each one, individually and in the group, talking about life, philosophy, and future career goals. The only thing he asked for in return was loyalty. Michael made the rules, and anyone who questioned them was immediately dismissed. When Michael dismissed a member of the group, the other members also had to turn their backs on him.
By the time of our second anniversary, our life was more chaotic than ever. Michael started a retail clothing business and used the group members to help him run it. Between the business and his volunteer work, our home was constantly overrun with intruders again. When they weren’t there in person, they were on the phone or in our discussions and arguments.
At times when my frustration became overwhelming, I would sob hysterically. Michael became alarmed and the daily visits would temporarily stop. But within a few days, they gradually started again always with some excuse of urgency. Before long, things were back to “abnormal.” I was not strong enough to give Michael an ultimatum. During our arguments, he was clear that if I made him choose between his life or our family life, our family life would lose. Michael claimed that he would never allow anyone to control his life or tell him what he could or couldn’t do. No one had that right, not even his wife. The fact that his activities controlled my life was no concern to him.
I tried to analyze Michael’s need for this adoration by others and concluded that he needed to overcome his own insecurities by elevating himself to a role that people admired and looked up to. I worked to overcompensate in our marriage by giving in to almost every demand,
