Dear Auntie Sue,
I’m at my wit’s end. After 17 years of marriage, two kids, one Labradoodle and a timeshare in Marbella, my husband dropped a bombshell over breakfast: he voted Labour.
He said it like it was no big deal, between mouthfuls of Waitrose granola, as if he hadn’t just betrayed everything this marriage was built on: moderate Toryism and not talking about feelings.
Worse, he now walks around saying things like “wealth inequality” and “Angela Rayner makes good points”, like some sort of lentil-scented traitor. I caught him reading The Guardian the other day. On purpose.
I’ve stopped putting oat milk in his coffee, and I’ve started sleeping on the far left of the bed (ironically). But it’s no good, every time he says “redistribution”, I hear “I’ve joined a commune”.
Should I file for divorce or just send him on a silent retreat until the next general election?
Yours,
Helen, 52, Wardle
Dear Helen,
Oh love, I feel for you. Political betrayal is the silent killer of middle-class marriages, right behind shared DIY and putting coriander in lasagne.
First things first: calm down. Lots of people flirt with Labour during tough economic times. It’s a phase, like veganism or buying wind chimes.
It doesn’t mean he’s going to start knitting his own sandals or renaming the kids after union leaders. It just means he read a depressing article and panicked.
My advice? Let him ride it out. Hide The Guardian. Replace it with The Telegraph wrapped in Private Eye. Put Margaret Thatcher’s face inside his Kindle like a religious relic.
And if he ever suggests taxing your shared ISA or nationalising the Aga, you have my permission to unleash the Labradoodle.
If all else fails, remember: Labour voters need love too. They just think it should be means-tested and subject to a cap.
Yours compassionately,
Auntie Sue
