Hannes's Decision

A couple of days ago, tucked among the papers in a folder, I found a folded, worn notebook page. I was about to throw it away, thinking it was one of my own drafts, when I realised it was homework from a client I’d seen some time ago. I read it over with a certain sadness, wondering what had become of that person. He was a German man of about 50 (we’ll call him Hannes) who had been married for 20 years to his wife, also German. They married young and had children early. The thing is, Hannes got in touch with me because he had been in love with another woman for years and was having an affair with her. When we first spoke, he told me his wife knew the truth, that he had told her, and that he was coming to therapy so that I could help him make a decision: his wife and his home, or the person he loved.

I should tell you that Hannes’s wife, despite knowing the circumstances, wanted to save her marriage and her family at all costs. Meanwhile, my client’s lover had also known about the whole situation from the start and wanted the man she loved (and had been waiting for) to build a life with her. Both positions were understandable; each had her own goal and each was fighting in her own way for what she wanted.

From conversations with colleagues, I know it can sometimes be hard not to make moral judgements in cases like this, whether because of the therapist’s upbringing or their own personal experiences. It isn’t a question of being a better or worse psychologist; some cases simply overwhelm the human being behind the professional. If that happens, it’s always best to refer the client to a colleague. From my point of view, I don’t believe in “good guys and bad guys” when it comes to matters of the heart. Feelings are what they are, and we decide what to do with them. What I do believe in is taking responsibility for those feelings, being honest about them and handling them as well as possible so as to do the least harm, both to yourself and to everyone else involved, especially when there are children. And that was one of the goals in this case.

After a couple of sessions with Hannes, we started working on the decision itself. I asked him for a written list of the pros and cons of being with each of the two women. And this is where the sheet I found comes in. It showed that my client was deeply in love with the other woman and that she met his intellectual, emotional and physical needs. They had plans for the future together, shared interests, excitement on both sides, and so on. There was only one negative point, just one on a long list: “risk”. As for the relationship with his wife, most of the points were negative. The marriage hadn’t worked for a long time, but there was one point in its favour: “security”. Never underestimate the value human beings place on security and stability, even when their own happiness is at stake.

My client knew perfectly well what he wanted, but he was paralysed by fear and guilt. Ending his marriage and leaving his home (not his children, of course) meant a huge change, and a risk.

I remember telling him one day something along these lines: “The problem here isn’t the decision; it’s that you want everything. You want to leave with her without hurting anyone and with a guarantee of security. We’ll stay stuck until you accept that this decision involves a risk and that you can’t keep everyone happy with it. Decisions mean living with the consequences, and that’s often the hardest part.” He agreed. We both knew the decision had been made long ago, and that what was holding us back were deeper issues we needed to keep working on before taking a false step and causing more harm than necessary. Hannes’s heart was clear; his mind wasn’t.

After a few months of work, we chose a date together to put his decision into practice: to separate from his wife and move in with the woman he loved and with whom he had plans for a life together. He told me his mind was made up, that he’d been thinking about it for years and couldn’t put it off any longer, because nothing was going to change and he was hurting other people. We left a few weeks’ margin and booked the next session, by which time his “new life” would supposedly have begun. That session never took place: a few weeks before, he wrote to tell me that in the end he was staying with his wife, and that he was very grateful for my support and help.

Hannes had changed his decision, putting fear ahead of his happiness. I understood completely, although I admit I felt some sadness, because I knew in depth what he thought and felt about it all. I replied that if he ever needed my help again, he shouldn’t hesitate to contact me, and I said goodbye in the most honest way I could find, while trying not to give an opinion or judge the situation:

“I hope you are the happiest possible with your decision.”

I wonder what became of “Hannes”. Perhaps, in all this time, he decided to overcome his fears and go after his happiness. Who knows.