Your life expectancy could suffer if you and your partner have incompatible arguing styles, new research has found. As Divorce Day looms on 7 January – when lawyers see a peak in divorce enquiries – married couple Robyn Wilder and Stuart Heritage spill the beans on how they row productively...
Robyn Says...
Couples live longer if both partners argue in the same way, apparently. After scrutinising 192 couples rowing over the course of three decades, the conclusion from the University of Arizona’s psychology department was: ‘The greater the mismatch between spouses’ anger- coping response style, the greater the risk of early death.’ In other words, you both need to deal with a dispute in the same manner. So if you both enjoy flaming rows, you’re fine – but if one of you rages while the other bottles up their feelings then you could, according to the report, almost double the risk of an early death.
I think I’m Clint Eastwood – the strong, silent type – and my husband thinks he’s Clint, too. But the problem is we come from very different families. If you were to examine Stuart’s DNA under a microscope, you would see complex strings of stiff upper lips and genes made entirely of firm handshakes. My DNA, on the other hand, is a full-on Dolmio advert.
I come from a family of loud talkers and enthusiastic gesticulators. Arguments in our house were a daily occurrence. First, there would be good-natured ribbing. Within seconds, this could escalate into tear-filled, multi-decibel character assassinations and the uttering of Unforgiveable Things.
I have since learned, from meeting normal people, that this is often how divorces start off. In my family, though, the storm would have blown over within minutes and soon all parties would be enjoying a pot of tea, argument forgotten. Growing up, it was exhausting, and I disliked it so much that I began to think of myself as the reasonable one. In fact, when Stuart and I first met, we each claimed that we were the Reasonable Ones. I thought I was even-tempered and slightly misanthropic. Stuart was a loner whom, he imagined, people might describe with the phrase ‘still waters run deep’.
We were wrong. Early on, when friend overheard our conversations, they’d take me aside to check I was OK. We were so animated they thought we were arguing. So we’re nothing like Clint Eastwood. And we both love to argue. I don’t know what this says about us in terms of the study, but as far as our marriage goes, it’s good news. Because we only argue about the little things – whose turn it is to do the bins (mine) and whose crap is all over the dining table (not mine). The big things we discuss carefully, and quietly, and – where possible – without apportioning blame.
Our marriage has survived four years and two children in this way. I hope, if we can continue, it will survive a great deal more.
Stuart Says....
I disagree with Robyn; I’d say we are exact opposites. I’m tall and pale, she’s short and beige. She’s from every single part of the world simultaneously, while the vast majority of my ancestors lived less than 20 miles from where I’m sitting now in Kent.
Sometimes, these differences can be a positive thing. I’m certain that our varying experiences of and approaches to life have formed a good foundation for how we raise our children, for instance. But the arguments. Oh god, the arguments.
I come from a long and proud tradition of passive- aggressive simmering. Annoy me and I’ll make a pointed yet veiled statement about your deepest failings and then kick an inanimate object. It’s how my parents did it, it’s how their parents did it and... come to think of it, most of them died prematurely too.
Robyn, meanwhile, is almost aggressively demonstrative. You or I might shrug by simply raising our shoulders a couple of inches. Not Robyn. When she shrugs, she lurches and coils like one of those inflatable men you see outside car dealerships. Robyn’s shrugs can last for days. Her fighting style is similarly performative. Robyn is both a thrower and a slammer. She once slammed a door so hard that all the plaster fell away from the doorframe. She once threw a fabric laundry basket at my head, and we both watched as it lost momentum and silently dropped to the floor six feet from me. This is just her way.
If this study holds any water, we're done for. But I'm not sure it does, for a couple of reasons. First, we're both incredible apologisers with a good sense of who's wrong, so our fights are always over quickly. Second, Robyn makes me laugh harder than anyone on Earth. It's hard to stay angry when you're laughing. That buys me a couple of extra decades, right?