Jock, a seasoned film producer, has worked with me for years. He is married to Lise, a partner at a high-pressure PR firm, who works grueling 80-hour weeks. Together, they have two boys. One of their children is moderately autistic and likely won’t ever live independently.
During the pandemic, life shifted dramatically for the family. Jock stayed home with the kids while Lise buried herself in work on her computer. Jock called himself a “house husband who happened to produce movies,” taking on the bulk of the domestic duties.
Eventually, the family moved to the countryside. Lise brought her office along, continuing her intense schedule—12-hour days starting early with calls to China. Jock described it as “Lise is here but she isn’t.” She was physically present but mentally distant.
As time passed, Jock’s drinking increased. Without the usual professional demands to keep him in check, it became a serious problem. Lise warned him to stop or face divorce. But when she traveled, he relapsed. On one occasion, she found him passed out on the couch during a phone call. When she returned, she insisted he leave, and he moved back to their city apartment.
They have been separated for months now. Jock keeps in touch with the boys daily via FaceTime and visits on weekends. He claims to be mostly sober. He told me, “I had too much of the kids, and now I don’t have enough. Either way, it’s stress.”
Even worse, when he visits, Lise rejects his affection. “She says she doesn’t have time or interest to work on it,” Jock said.
When asked what he hoped for, he said he loved his kids and believed they should be together. But then he added, “It’s hard when your wife doesn’t want you.”
Raising typical children is challenging enough; having a child with special needs adds immense pressure. We discussed whether Lise’s intense focus on work might be her way of coping with the stress of their son’s disability. Perhaps rejecting Jock was a form of displaced guilt since he took on most of the caregiving. I told him, “The stress and guilt have been there a long time, but now they’re out in the open instead of hidden.”
Their relationship seemed to have crossed an invisible line.
Jock now lives apart from his wife and kids. He said that although they once loved each other deeply, for Lise that feeling was now “an abstraction,” a memory of life before children and shared responsibility. “The pandemic crystallized everything,” he said. “She wants a lover, not a family with responsibility. She was too busy to care, and I made it easy for her.”
Jock doubts that anything can fix the situation, and he thinks that may be for the best. When I asked if this was fair to the children, he replied, “No, but what choice is there?”
Reflecting on their struggles, Jock sees that he and Lise have very different views on work’s role in life. This insight is helping him move forward—to seek a relationship with someone whose lifestyle matches his own. “I have to go back to first principles,” he said. “Without that, I can’t see a future.”
Before meeting Lise, Jock never realized the importance of protecting himself emotionally. Now, he is learning and trying to apply those lessons.
Work doesn’t just impact the worker—it affects those closest to them. How someone approaches work can deeply influence relationships.
Jock and Lise’s story is complex. Their careers became out of sync. Lise escaped into her job, while Jock struggled to balance work and family care. Having a special-needs child only heightened the pressure. Now, after likely divorce, Jock faces rebuilding his life.
We discussed how, in future relationships, Jock plans to assess whether potential partners share similar work-life values. He used to be attracted to strong, successful women and thought Lise was the perfect match. But now he understands that how someone balances work with family is crucial.
It’s not just about long hours; sometimes work is a way to emotionally withdraw. This can be hard to detect but listening to how someone talks about work helps. If they define themselves solely by their job—“I live to write,” or “I live to be a surgeon”—it might signal that relationships will be difficult. Lise was most focused on herself, as expressed through her work.
A partner can be successful and still emotionally committed. Many people manage it, but Lise chose to immerse herself completely in work, retreating from family responsibilities.
Jock told me his experience with Lise made him question his feminist ideals. “Would I have been better off marrying someone with a more ordinary job?” he asked. I said no. The issue wasn’t Lise’s success but her choice to prioritize work above all else. She was deeply immersed in herself.
Jock’s story is a powerful reminder that work shapes lives beyond the office. Balancing ambition and family requires more than passion for a career—it demands emotional presence and shared priorities.
Related topics:
