Mirror mirror on the wall

How do you keep on caring what you look like when your partner doesn't seem to care?

When I've been single I've made an effort for myself. But it's different when I have a partner. Then I make the effort for them as well. And I suppose I rely on the feedback and hopefully the appreciation.

But in a relationship where there is minimal physical intimacy I've had to do a lot of work to stop myself from waiting for any sort of comment or reaction about the way I look or what I'm wearing. Compliments are less regular than a suburban train I'm afraid. It's a long and uncertain wait if you can be bothered.

At first it hurt a lot. I used to put some effort into how I dressed (not consistently I must say but that made the times when it happened more noteworthy). I would go nervously back to the mirror to see if I'd made a mistake, left my skirt tucked into my undies, was sporting Courtney-Love-style-lippy or a Janet Jackson Superbowl wardrobe malfunction.

But gradually I've learned not to expect any comment at all. I know he's not seeing me in that way; even that he's afraid any remark in that direction might falsely raise my expectations.

But it takes a lot of mental energy to sustain the effort to dress up when it's only me who cares. Not a terribly feminist stance on the surface of it.

On the other hand, I've really started not to care how I look. I'm tired, both emotionally and physically. I work outside the home and do the majority of housework as well. I look after a three year old.

Also I had only in my late 20s come to find a way to accept a love of self-adornment as part of an overall rejection of the stereotypical expectations of women.

I have never wanted to define myself by my appearance nor spend a disproportionate amount of time, energy or money on making myself "acceptable" to society in terms of the way I look.

So my idea of dressing up might involve shiny boots and red lipstick one day, even low cut dresses and boofy hair. But the choices I make might be judged harshly by those who believe that you have to be this size or that shape to wear this top or that skirt (or bikini or colours or flat heels).

So I've been quite practised at not caring what society at large might think of me. I had a sense of my self worth, a confidence in my physicality that was not dependent on mainstream depictions of beauty.

Sadly though I must admit that this confidence is eroded when the one you love seems ambivalent.

And I've followed up that self doubt by traipsing down my partner's path of disengagement with the physical self. He has his reasons and I have mine.

Flo

Getting involved

It's one of those crazy Catch 22 things that exercise and keeping active generally really can help with depression; but when you're depressed it's like your own eyelids weigh a tonne so blinking and breathing use up pretty much all your energy and jogging, for example, is pretty remote in the solar system of possibilities.

But somehow, while J was well, he got involved in a community project that he cared about. And then it had a life of its own and sort of carried him along with it even when he was down, so he had little choice but to continue on.

I really think this has made a huge difference in his life. He's feeling effectual and useful. He can see that he's having an impact on the world around him and it's a positive one.

It's a bit like the origin of living things on this planet - a one-in-a-gazillion chance meeting of the right conditions and voila - life. That's what this feels like. Except maybe it's not one-in-a-gazillion. I'm hoping the chances are a lot greater than that. It's just a matter of waiting for those conditions to come around.

I didn't push. It had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with me. This is 100% about him and his interests and his efforts.

Flo

Father's Day

This is the only holiday that doesn't bring my partner down. Special occasions tend to be very stressful. There's the imperative to have a good time followed by feelings of failure that result from not being able to meet those expectations.

But Father's Day has always (well all three of them so far) been a day when J has seemed happy. I make a bit of a fuss (well, this year that involved a cup of instant coffee before I left for work) and then leave him to spend time with our son.

We all have our doubts about our effectiveness as parents sometimes and I think with depression these doubts go much deeper. I know for J he is always very anxious not to repeat his own father's abusive behaviour and this is a very significant influence on his style of parenting.

I wonder if in some ways the extreme contrast between what he experienced as a child and what he is doing as a parent actually helps him to see that in fact he is succeeding at being a good father.

The differences are so obvious that he could hardly doubt it. This is one area where he can always see very clearly that he has not failed and so it makes him feel good.

I know that's not going to be the same for everyone. What happens on these occasions for your family? How do you handle it?

Flo