Dear Bel, I am 62, my wife ten years younger; we were married for 28 years. She was the love of my life — indeed I left my first wife and child to be with her. We have four children: a boy, 28, and three girls, 27, 20 and 18. I retired on medical grounds in 1994 and became a house husband, looking after the younger daughters while my wife pursued her career. I did not resent the fact that she was capable of earning more than me; I was proud of her achievements and enjoyed being Mr Mum to my daughters.

Eighteen months ago she announced, in front of my daughters, that she wanted “me time” and to separate. She moved out and I helped her. What I did not realise was that she was heavily involved with another man and had been for some time. I admit that I was probably not the best husband in the world; probably boring — after 28 years who isn’t? When she left home my youngest was left behind with me — and understandably gave me a hard time. She is now at university and getting on well.

We are now divorced, but still in dispute over the family home. My wife is a senior manager in the NHS and a high earner, but refused to make any contribution towards my youngest daughter’s university start-up costs. In fact when she took off to have her “me time” I had to get the CSA to get her to make a contribution towards my daughter’s upkeep while she was still at home with me.

I don’t hate her, but I don’t like her very much. She is not prepared to allow me a little more than a 50/50 share in the proceeds of the family home despite the differences in our ages, earning capacity (hers five times mine), borrowing capacity and future prospective earnings. My wife seems to have reinvented herself as an 18-year-old and now sees herself as a victim who was forced to leave the family home. In spite of the fact that it was her choice and she was involved with someone else.

All my children see her for what she is, and don’t want anything to do with her. How do I get them to establish some sort of relationship with her? And her with them? She has some moral and financial obligation towards them but refuses to acknowledge it, so what can I do? She lives very well and I am a pauper who will be homeless if she carries on the dispute over the family home. Do you have any advice?

Anthony

The other day somebody told me, with an air of knowing wisdom, “Oh, but of course, when you get those letters you get only one side of the story”. Too polite to reply, “Heavens, I didn’t realise that!” I smiled as if grateful for the insight while thinking “Yes, and it releases me from ever having to sit on a fence”. The story of every marriage is like three parallel texts: his, hers and theirs, which is why the important business of professional counselling (with Relate, for example) can take so long. But a page like this usually deals with single cries for help, the only “evidence” being the words on page or screen. So let me start by telling you that I don’t like your wife very much either. It sounds as if you have been treated very badly.

You’ll have sought legal advice so this is no place to deal with your rights vis-à-vis the house. My concern is with your responsibilities — towards yourself, towards your children and even towards the woman who left you. There is a note of defeatism in your letter, a sense that at 62 your life is more or less over, which we should address. Whatever the outcome of the property dispute, you have to get yourself into a frame of mind where you can cope. It’s revealing that all the way through your letter you call this highflying lady “my wife” when in fact she is your ex-wife. You also refer to “my daughters” not “our daughters”, suggesting to me the extent to which you embraced both parental roles. But maybe that lets your ex-wife off the hook too much. It sounds as if you were a very compliant sort of man and relinquished too many of your own rights as a human being. For even a “boring” (do you really mean that?) husband deserves consideration and respect.

Let us take the three responsibilities I listed above in reverse order — although obviously, like those three texts of any marriage, they are entirely connected. Do you think that your ex-wife realises how badly she has behaved? Surely those grown-up children must have told her, in no uncertain terms? Your recollection of that icky phrase “me time” rings true, for it’s a staple of many women’s magazine articles now. But it’s one thing to carve out time for a massage, or a facial, or even a part-time course to feed the brain, quite another to move out spouting self-indulgent psychobabble when all the time you’re in a new relationship. (Somehow I feel it didn’t last, because you don’t mention a partner.)

Many women will sympathise despite themselves, but I’m afraid I am old school — which means putting the children you bore (who had no choice in the matter) before self. We all feel we have one life and may long for freedom, but need to think of the price to be paid. I get many letters from women in dull marriages who wonder if, once the children have left home, they might start afresh — and often my response is “Go for it”. But many who feel angst at reaching 50 stop short of abandoning the normally difficult 16-year-old, giving her more problems. (Thank goodness that the youngest girl has come through and has settled at university.) Your ex-wife needs to know (for her own sake) that in walking out she relinquished many of her moral rights. The only thing she is a victim of is her own poor judgment and selfishness. I hope you’re not cowed by her and can tell her, not aggressively but with calm strength.

You’ve been a stable parent, and I admire that even now you want to build bridges between the children and their errant mother. Many people would counsel you not to bother, but long-term I think you are right to try. Apart from anything else, doing the right thing is empowering. As adults they will have their own views, but I think you should maintain a steady tone of “She is still your mother and when you’re older and maybe with kids of your own you will want her in your life”. That’s all you can say/do. But surely the 28-year-old son could intervene with her on your behalf? It all depends on the relationships, about which you say little.

The one thing that you have power over her is the way you approach the rest of your own life. This is your most important responsibility now that all the children have left — although, of course, they will all (hopefully) want a home to come back to visit. You must start by looking in the mirror and promising yourself not to use demeaning words such as “boring” or “pauper” about that man staring back at you. The trials of the last 18 months have understandably knocked your confidence, but it’s vital that you don’t allow yourself to fall into that pernicious victim trap.

You probably feel, deep down, that it’s somehow your fault that the marriage failed. I suspect that thought informed your youngest daughter’s behaviour when at home with you: hurting over her mother, she may have blamed you for failing to “keep” her. But now it’s time to move on to the next stage of your life. You need to go out and meet other women for a start, since there are so many lonely ladies of a certain age who would love a friendship with a single man such as you. Wouldn’t you like to hear that you’re not boring? You should look ahead (62 is young) to how you are going to spend the next ten years. And you know, if in the end the house has to be sold, it may prove to be the making of you. You can have a fresh start in a smaller, very different place that is entirely your own. Don’t let your ex-wife do you out of what’s rightfully yours. But — more important — don’t give her the ultimate victory of triumphing over your spirit.

DO YOU NEED ADVICE?

Do you need advice about your relationships? E-mail your problems to: bel.mooney@thetimes.co.uk or write to her at: times2, 1 Pennington Street, London E98 1TT. Details such as your age are helpful. Please include your real name, but we will use your chosen pseudonym if you wish. Bel Mooney reads all letters but cannot enter into personal correspondence

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