Ask the Experts

Q I’ve been with my partner for 11 years, though we still live in our own rented homes.

I became chronically ill ten years ago, and then became physically disabled. I now depend on sticks and mobility scooters. My partner is physically well but suffers from mental health problems, mainly long-standing depression and self-harm. I’m 40 and he’s 34.

Before getting ill I was at university, which is where I met him, and was very social. I enjoyed going out with friends. Today I have no friends. I wish I did but I find socialising exhausting and I’m limited in how much I can do. My partner also doesn’t have friends. He says he’s not interested in anyone else.

As for my family, they live in another part of the country and we don’t communicate as they’ve never cared about me. So, there really is no one I can talk to and I can’t afford counselling.

The thing is, my partner and I don’t have a physical relationship, and I feel really sad about it. When I was iller than I am now, sex was the last thing on my mind, but before getting ill, I was always very physical, enjoyed sex and felt it was a very important part of the relationship.

When I first met my partner he was 23 and still a virgin. He has always had erection problems.

We’ve tried lots of things but without much success. A medical check suggested he had a psychological problem. He was prescribed Viagra which helped a bit but we don’t cuddle or kiss or even hold hands.

Now for all the complex stuff. I’m not attracted to him, I don’t fancy him and there’s no spark between us. I often think we did the wrong thing trying to have an intimate relationship and should have been just friends.

It’s not just his physical appearance that I’m not attracted to: it’s his personality. I think I only stay in the relation­ship because I don’t want to be alone and feel I owe him for looking after me when I was really ill.

I also know he’d go to pieces if we split up. In fact I’ve tried a few times to end the relationship but we always end up back to where we were. I even had a few appointments – alone – with a Relate counsellor, which left my partner trying to get me to reveal what we’d discussed.

He does this a lot. I think he’s rather controlling on a lot of levels. I’ve tried talking to him about how I feel but he says he doesn’t understand because that’s not how he sees things.

So the question is: do I stay in a relationship I’m not happy with, just because I’m afraid to be on my own, afraid of ending up in a home somewhere, afraid of problems I have with the neighbours, and afraid of what our parting might do to my partner?

I haven’t been asked out on a date for more than ten years, and I suppose I’m not attractive any more.

I’ve been told I’m lucky to have anyone at all, given my disabilities, and that it would be difficult to find someone else, since I don’t work and have no financial assets like a home of my own or a job.

It’s hard not having someone to confide in. Sometimes I think this is how my partner wants things to be: this way I only get his thoughts and opinions. I just don’t know.

I’m sorry this is rather long but I feel there is so much more I could say. Could you offer any advice?

Name withheld, by email

Simon Parritt replies:

Extracting yourself from a long-term relationship, however damaging and controlling, is difficult and painful. This is especially so when the other person plays a role in your support needs.

In this case, however, you’re with a man whose personality you dislike and whom you find sexually and physically unattractive. You have fallen into an abusive situation, and contrary to what you feel, you’re not helping him either.

You’re allowing your low self-esteem and guilt over his caring for you when you were ill to excuse his controlling dependency on you. In the end it will crush and destroy you both.

You are still young and have a life to lead. The reason you have no friends and social life is in part, I suspect, because of your partner’s influence over your every thought, deed and feeling.

If, as you say, you used to be sociable and enjoyed going out with friends, what has happened?

Somewhere inside, you’re still that same person. Attractiveness is largely about personality and it’s this that’s being undermined. Surely you’ve sacrificed enough of your life for a relationship that’s restrictive and damaging.

Yes, of course you’re afraid to be on your own: that’s a fear people often face when embarking on a new beginning, whether it’s leaving home, changing jobs, moving house or divorcing. It’s especially scary for many disabled people who can’t just up sticks and leave. But along with the fear should come a sense of excitement and possibility: isn’t it appealing not having to be responsible for a man who gives you nothing and denies you the freedom to go where and when you want for friendship and enjoyment?

Comments such as “you’re lucky to have someone at all, given your disabilities” are both untrue and unhelpful. Friendships as well as intimate and sexual relationships are in the end about mutual support and sharing, not dependency and control.

If you need support and someone to talk to while you build up your courage and social skills, you could try Relate again, with the goal of moving on in your life without this man.

Try speaking to your GP as well: some now offer a few sessions of counselling, and this may give you the strength to make changes. Voluntary counselling groups that offer low-cost counselling or even online support forums are also a start.

It also occurs to me that there’s a wider aspect to your situation that many may recognise. As disabled people, we can become indebted to those whom we rely on for physical support. We can be trapped by being “looked after” emotionally by people who act as a dependent, unquestioning friend or partner. There’s a danger of relationships becoming unequal and non-mutual. And there’s a huge difference between acknowledging someone’s support and love and the feeling that you owe them your life and body. You should never have to give up your rights as an autonomous individual.

There are a few people who can’t help but prey on us in those moments in our lives when we need kind­ness and support. Just as religious sects and cults prey upon people at vulnerable times in their lives, so can people we’re in a relationship with.

For a disabled person it’s always a struggle to balance our feelings of thanks to our supporters and enablers with our own sense of identity as autonomous individuals.

As we saw in the feature “Taking Back our Lives” (Disability Now, April 2010), there must be many more disabled people who experience physical abuse in their relationships than we think. But, how many more are restricted and imprisoned by the subtle emotional blackmail of those who care for us? Do they not slowly damage our independence, self-esteem and autonomy out of a need to fill the gaps in their own lives, unaware of the price we pay?

Experts:

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SIMON PARRITT
Psychologist with psychosexual therapy experience

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DOUGLAS JOY
Senior solicitor at the Disability Law Service

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Citizens Advice Bureau
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JOHN MANDRAK
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ANDY WRIGHT
MD of Accessible Travel, specialist tour operator

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DAVID CLARKE
Senior partner with Clydesdale Bank

Access and Environment
AGNES FLETCHER
Disability trainer and consultant

Property
KATE SHEEHAN
Occupat­ional therapist with interest in housing

Motoring and Transport
HELEN SMITH
Works with Mobilise and specialises in car matters