BEL MOONEY: Should I settle for a nice guy... or wait for the bad boy I long for?

Dear Bel,

I’m 25 and living with my boyfriend. We met two years ago through a mutual friend and, after a year, I moved in to his house.

He has a demanding job working long hours, so moving in seemed sensible or we’d never see each other.

He’s very much in love with me and is wonderfully caring, attentive and calm. Sexually things aren’t so great — but he tries and is becoming less embarrassed and self-conscious as the relationship progresses.

I know he’d make a great father and be a strong husband.

I have always envisaged having my first child before I was 30 and being married for a year or so before that. Having invested all this time, I don’t want to walk away from an amazingly caring man.

But I can also see myself falling for a passionate relationship like the one I had with a ‘bad boy’ for a year in my late teens. I don’t want to write off an incredible man but I can’t make myself feel more.

I have enjoyed building our home but then I am a nester and like cooking dinners, baking and having someone to look after.

I’ve often set myself unattainable goals, so am I just over-rating the concept of ‘the one’? I hear stories of dreadful dates and awful boyfriends and feel so guilty for under-valuing what I have, but how can I agree to spend my life with a man when I am so unsure? Can one ever really know?

I do love him but don’t know if I’m ‘in love’ with him, or just sticking to what is ‘safe’ — and I told him all these concerns. I care about him deeply and in the couple of days it took him to retreat, nurse his wounds and come back to me since the ‘talk’, I felt pretty anxious. Now I think he’s put the talk down to my usual over-analysing and moved on.

Please help me decide if I need to keep at this or walk away.

I don’t want to lose the intimacy that we share but I don’t know if what we have is enough for permanence.

Is this just the effect of choice and awareness of divorce ratings? I don’t want to become another statistic.

SIMONE

Bel Mooney replies: You are not the first young woman in a good relationship with Mr Nice Guy who still has fantasies about being swept off her feet by a dangerous, sexy ‘bad boy.’ Nor will you be the last!

This is at the heart of your problem.

Sex with this good, loving man is not at all what you would like it to be — and, at your age, that does matter a lot. You wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise.

It concerns me that you seem to have written rather a rigid script for your life and are now having grave doubts about the plot and the characters.

On the one hand you love the idea of nesting, cooking, having a baby, living happily ever after with ‘the one’ — and being the perfect wife and mother.

On the other hand, your inner-self dreams of rebellion. Of smashing walls and running away.

Your uncut letter tells me you did very well at university and now have a good job with interesting prospects.

I’m wondering if your lurking dissatisfaction with your partner and your pleasant, easy life together isn’t also fed by a frustration with yourself for always being the A* high-achiever. Are there roots of this in childhood? For example, what was your parents’ response to your teen tearaway boyfriend? Did you always feel you had to live up to their expectations?

I’ve never believed in the concept of ‘the one’ — because for some people there are two or even three loves in a life. None of us can possibly ‘know’ whether choices made in the 20s will prove a source of great disappointment and pain in the 40s.

I assure you, I never thought I’d be divorced in my 50s; ‘becoming another statistic’ is not something you can possibly have any control over. As for ‘permanence’? What is that? I’m afraid you cannot shoehorn the mysterious workings of destiny into your personal script for paradise found.

Why not live in the present, focus on a good time with your partner and just park your plans? Stop the endless navel-gazing and cross-examination. Mr Nice Guy could tire of you and suggest a new start with new people. Or you could meet sexy Mr Wrong next month and run away with him.

The jury is always out on our lives, you know. That’s why tomorrow is exciting.

Mum is cruel and made her friend cry 

Dear Bel

My mum, who is 86, raised three kids on her own, providing for us as best she could, for which we’re so grateful.

But she wasn’t loving (I don’t recall her saying I love you) and isn’t tactile; when I hug her, she steps away or pats me.

We haven’t had the easiest relationship, as she expected more from her only daughter than her sons. I have learned not to challenge her because, if I do, she falls out with me for months.

Bel Mooney says some of the saddest letters she gets are from the adult children of elderly parents

She has become worse over the past few years – often nasty. I don’t want to be near her; it affects my mental health.

She has a lifelong friend who is lovely and I often take her along to visit — but Mum is now so rude it’s not fair to put her through it (last time, she was in tears). But without the buffer of the friend, I don’t think I can handle her. I also feel bad if I don’t see her.

Mum’s mental health is not good. Her doctor has suggested she goes on antidepressants but she scoffs at this.

I want to do something to stop her losing the few people who still care but my brothers disagree, saying she won’t change.

I worry that by trying to challenge her she will fall out with me.

Do I let things be or do I try to get her to see how her behaviour is affecting other people?

CAROLE

Bel Mooney replies: Some of the saddest letters I get are from the adult children of elderly parents. They find themselves torn between a sense of duty and frustration.

You don’t mention a father. Whatever the circumstances, it sounds as if your mother had a difficult time, which makes me wonder if that made her tougher than you’d have liked a mum to be.

Some old people look back at their history and develop a deep anger, asking ‘Why did it have to be that way?’ Such regrets can spark bitterness in those who feel short-changed by their own choices, bad luck or just by happenstance. Do you think some of that might apply to your mum?

Reading your description of her behaviour, my first thought was that she could be developing dementia, which can cause what I think of as a hardening of the personality. Forgetfulness is one thing, but increasing verbal aggression is another.

Her being difficult with you might be explained by family history, but to be so mean to her friend? That’s different.

You say ‘her doctor has repeatedly suggested she goes on antidepressants’ which makes me wonder why she makes those appointments — what physical symptoms? She may well ‘scoff’ at anything to do with mental health, yet feel an unspoken need for help. If she rejects her doctor’s aid, how is she going to find it within herself to listen to you?

There are no easy answers. You know her well; she’s bound to become angry and reject you if you tell her the truth.

When she made her friend cry, was anything said at the time or afterwards? Perhaps that incident could provide a way in to the conversation you dread.

I’m not sure why your brothers should duck out, but since you have a good relationship with the friend, can you enlist her help? Could you take her to visit one more time, making a pact to explain to your mother why her behaviour was unacceptable? The two of you could make her think, as well as providing some mutual protection against her rage.

I suspect such an intervention would be best coming from a peer. And it might also help you to have some counselling to unearth old memories and explain why your relationship with your mother is so complicated.

I admire your wish to save her from herself, but you can only do this with help.

And finally... sharing is a way to work wonders!

The sun disappeared, the rain came, but I was blessed by the sunshine of my postbag, responding to last week’s ‘And Finally’.

You like it when I wear my heart on my sleeve — and prove it by dispatching the ‘hearts’ back to my inbox!

Answering my sad comment about not being Wonder Woman any more (because of health) Alison W set me right in a few kind but firm words:

‘… that part wasn’t correct. You looked in the mirror at the wrong view. There isn’t an “older woman, tired” etc to see there, but a woman with great strength… So go back to the mirror and look again.’

Lynne M took up the theme: ‘You’re just taking a break, you’ll be back in those boots soon. They’re attached for when you’re ready.’

And she sent me a picture of Wonder Woman’s red boots!

So many caring emails reinforced my conviction that real wonders can be achieved by sharing our stories here. Thank you to everyone.

Lawrence S supplied a

moving lesson in positivity: ‘Last April I lost my lovely wife after 66 years ... I had never in my life lived alone so it was difficult ... 12 days after she died I was rushed to hospital for five blood transfusions due to some internal bleeding, put down to the stress.

‘Then, in June, I was diagnosed with advanced prostate cancer. In January, I was again rushed to hospital with sepsis. It’s left me weak and doddery after years of fitness.

‘Then I began to think. As I’m 90 next month, I should be grateful for 88 years of good health. I had more than 60 years of wonderful love and companionship. Bless you, Bel, for all the help you give each week. Get well soon.’

That makes me humble.