Don’t hesitate to confront a friend with an abusive mate

Q: I suspect others have had this same quandary: wondering how to deal with a friend who is in a damaging relationship. I had a business partner who was living with Lady Macbeth and it eventually led to the demise of our business partnership. I remember thinking that if he was doing drugs or alcohol, I'd have no reservations about doing an intervention, but this situation stumped me. It was classic emotional abuse, but I didn't know how to even approach it. -- B.W., Las Vegas

A: It's not at all uncommon. We have a close friend for whom we care. But we hate our friend's marriage. For me this antipathy has happened three ways.

Sometimes I like my friend and simply, personally, don't like my friend's mate. I find the mate, well, uninteresting (OK, I really mean dull), gladless or just kinda high maintenance. Other times I like my friend, but find myself losing respect for my friend when I see the friend and mate together. I don't like who my friend becomes in the mate's company. I sense that my friend has, in some way, traded his/her soul to remain in a relationship more controlling than liberating, more a pretense than a true devotion.

And a few times in my life, I have chosen to distance myself from a couple because of how uncomfortable I felt in their company. Ever meet couples whose bond is more a habituated sniping? A median mood of open disdain? Each rails at the other with impatience, criticism and defensiveness. Don't know about you, but these kinds of couples just suck the life out of me. I confess it's my own neurosis, but I feel embarrassed for them, not unlike when I would watch episodes of "The Lucy Show" and literally would have to leave the room because it was just too painful to watch Lucy stumble in to yet another social faux pas.

Why would anyone spend another five minutes in a marriage with someone about whom you felt such contempt? And, if you did stay in the marriage, how could you not possess sufficient self-respect (class?) to at least feign civility in public, and save your mutually-agreed-upon sado-masochistic courtship for behind closed doors? Being in the company of these marriages is about as edifying and uplifting as watching pit bulls fight to the death. But I respect the dogs more, because the dogs aren't choosing to be there.

But you postulate a fourth scenario. What about a friend or colleague we believe is being emotionally abused, used, dominated or degraded in an emotionally committed relationship (marriage)? You reach for an analogy to drug/alcohol abuse. Is there such a thing as a relationship intervention, based on similar rationale?

B.W., in many ways it's a perfect analogy. And for me at least, I wouldn't hesitate to confront a close friend about my experiences of his/her marriage if I thought I had a good reason.

My first approach might be framed as inquiry: "Tell me about your marriage ..." I'd be looking to coax a segue that would allow me to say simply and honestly, "It's really uncomfortable to watch."

Or I can imagine myself saying even more strongly, "I really hate the way he/she talks to you." This is like we might talk to a friend flirting with a drug problem: "How often are you using marijuana?" And then, "I'm not a fan of what it does to you."

In more severe cases, say in the aftermath of a public scene, I might choose to set a radical boundary -- not for my friend, but for myself. The boundary would be my witness on behalf of human decency. It would communicate my unwillingness to participate in something I saw as destructive. I might say "Love you to have you over, but your wife/husband isn't welcome. Can't go there with you again."

Yes, in severe cases, you ask your friend to choose. You risk losing your friend. It's exactly like saying, "Love to have you over, but your marijuana isn't welcome. Come clean and come sober. Or don't come." You risk the friendship because you decide that not risking makes you complicit in the unwellness.

And, lastly, as bad as you feel for your friend, you remind yourself the friend is making choices, too. Your friend is solely responsible for his/her misery. Not you. And, oddly enough, not mate-from-hell.

We tell the truth, encourage rehab, suggest resources and then wash our hands of it. Disappointed, perhaps, but nonetheless.

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Clear View Counseling Wellness Center in Las Vegas and the author of "Human Matters: Wise and Witty Counsel on Relationships, Parenting, Grief and Doing the Right Thing" (Stephens Press). His columns appear on Tuesdays and Sundays. Questions for the Asking Human Matters column or comments can be e-mailed to skalas@reviewjournal.com.