Advice from Both Sides

Moving in together: sharing possessions and possessed children

Dear Nils and Sherry,

I met a divorced man 16 months ago. Things have progressed to the point where we're thinking about moving in together. That's the good news. The bad news is that Leon, my lover, has a 13-year-old daughter who will live with us part-time. The really bad news is that I can't stand this kid who has been therapized and narcotized to the point where the only hope is an exorcist. Leon, however, sees her as the perfect angel. Hell's angel, if you ask me.

Although we share a lot, I don't feel it is my place to tell Leon how his child should be raised. But, because we're all going to live together, I feel I must say something. How do I approach him on this subject? I don't want to live in fear while hiding kitchen knives.

Dodging Pea Soup in Peoria

Dear Pea Soup,

Nils: You've got a devil of a problem. Long before it got to this point, you should have said something to Leon. I remember when I moved in with Dr. Sherry, I had some reservations about her child, Tiffani.

Sherry: But Dr. Nils never told me about those reservations, which could have been easily dealt with if one of us had the guts to speak up. But no. We went along simmering until the moving van pulled away and we were left in a house that was more cuckoo than "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest." 

Nils: A dialog requires two open parties who see the value in talking and listening.

Sherry: Which always works better when one of the parties isn't constantly heading off to open-bar faculty parties.

Nils: Sometimes when problems can't be solved at home, people are forced out of the house and into the arms of understanding colleagues.

Sherry: Such as sociology instructors, who are off the tenure track, wearing their tight sweaters and flaunting their loose morals.

Nils: Let's get back to your main question about whether or not you should move in. My advice is to reconsider and get to know the other person -- I mean really get to know them, their insecurities, their petty jealousies of your colleagues -- before deciding to cohabit.

Sherry: Or you could end up with a life of quiet desperation. To everyone else, you will seem happy, as you cheerfully dispense advice on the Internet -- or whatever your job. But you will wear a plastic smile that comes off the minute you escape into your separate bedroom.

Nils and Sherry Diaz-Arvidsen are relationship counselors without portfolio. They are visiting lecturers at the Santa Barbara Institute where they specialize in issues of delusion and dysfunction.