THERE IS NO REAL LIFE WITH HIM

A lot of people dislike sex, with good reason; it can be an awkward, even repulsive business if you ask me.

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(Image: Sit by Paula Rego, 1994, Pastel on paper on aluminium 160x120 cm)

Dear Agony Uncle,

I am living with someone I love who is on the autistic spectrum. He is quite hard to relate to, and so he's living separately in the back of the house, while I live in the front with all the nice things. He seems okay about this. I don't want to have sex with him anymore-I'm too old to enjoy it really, and he's younger.

He has not understood for the last 12 years that he should participate in expenses. He's a remarkable person in so many ways-extraordinarily talented, with some strong, unfathomable qualities. He has great energy and moves me immeasurably by just being who he is. But there is no real life with him. Travel with him is a nightmare; he's irrational and strange. I love him, unquestionably. My kids like him, and people who don't really know him think he's marvelous.

Do you have any advice?

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From the outside, other people’s relationships can appear incomprehensible, particularly those of our parents, for instance. Why, you find yourself asking, are these two people even together? What might they want from one another? What are they doing?

The more I considered this letter, the more I picked up on how difficult this situation is for you; that this man, your partner, has become something of a burden, even though you love him, as do your children. But, as you make clear, loving someone is not so easy.

On the other hand, it seems that the two of you have reached a decent accommodation. Each of you has your own space in the house, making contact when you wish.

Having a younger person around can be inspiring and energising; they may have more energy than you and be more interested in the contemporary world.

But all couples have to find a domestic arrangement that suits them: close, but not too close; distanced, but not too far. This is always a matter of negotiation. That is what speech is for-to keep other people away, and to bring them in.

Tellingly, in your opening sentence, you mention the fact that your partner is autistic. And isn’t it the case that autistic people don’t like to be crowded? Not only that, but don’t they find it difficult to fit into conventional structures? This can be isolating for someone living with them; you may have chosen to share a life with a person who cannot respond or reciprocate in the way you now require. Your needs may have changed.

You say in your note that you no longer want or desire sex, and again, this isn’t so unusual unless one or the other of you considers it to be a problem. A lot of people dislike sex, with good reason; it can be an awkward, even repulsive business if you ask me. But your suggestion that you are, as you put it, ‘too old anyway’ is misleading. You may not want it, but no one is too old for it.

The word ‘unfathomable’ made us think that when one meets a potential partner, it would be a good idea to find out as much about them as you can. Not about their parents, but about their relationship with their parents, in particular. Because the chances are, for instance, that a woman who has a difficult, if not tempestuous, relationship with her father may replicate it with you. There are, of course, no absolute determinants in these matters.

What is ‘unfathomable’, as you put it, about a person is often what is most interesting about them, particularly when it comes to their sexuality, but also to do with their background. The aim of loving another person isn’t to accumulate knowledge, but to enjoy them, to take pleasure in their existence; unfortunately, at the moment, it doesn’t sound as though that is what you are doing.

Were you aware when you first met your partner that he was autistic, or did this occur to you further down the line? What exactly do you mean by autistic, and how do you think it impacts your relationship?

After all, everyone has their eccentricities, vulnerabilities, and limitations, and it may be these things that draw you to a person in the first place. But realising later on that the person you’re with has difficulties that they will never overcome, and that you will have to live with, can put an unendurable strain on the relationship.

You say he is hard to relate to, and therefore lives at the back of the house. Who is confining whom here? Is this mutual? Is this how you control him, or is he controlling you?

You mention expenses, and say that he hasn’t contributed financially for twelve years. He’s dependent on you, and you may enjoy this dependency. Your relationship may have moved from one of mutuality to a parental paradigm.

Many autistic people find it difficult to hold down conventional jobs; temperamentally, that kind of routine would be impossible for them. But if you find that supporting this man is a drain, then you have to say this to him, and he has to decide what he has to do in the face of your demand.

The most revealing and moving sentence in this letter was where you say, ‘there is no real life with him.’ I guess you mean no life for you. Exchanges are central to relationships; unless there is something you want from him, and he wants from you-a mutual giving-the relationship is not doomed, but can become hostile.

If you are afraid of losing him or of being alone-and lack the desire to start dating again-you may remain together for the wrong reasons.

It sounds to me as though you are not happy in this relationship, which is not something you are explicit about in your letter. But nonetheless, it comes across.

Dumping a vulnerable person is very difficult, since they already suffer for other reasons, and certainly you wouldn’t wish to add to their suffering, but you may have to, in order to reduce your own.

There will be unintended consequences, either for good or ill-you just don’t know. But unless you take the risk, you will never find out what could have been possible.