When I met my husband eight years ago, I knew he was churchy, but as a low-church Protestant, I thought this wouldn’t be a problem. Outside church, I am comfortable with our religious differences. I sort of believe in God, and find immense spirituality in nature, but think Christ was simply a good man, whereas my husband believes it. He respects my beliefs and has never imposed his on me.
The problem I have is with the church we attend. I often feel a fraud as I don’t share the beliefs of the rest of the congregation. I feel alienated by the emphasis on theology over Christ’s teachings, and the hymns and rituals. I resent having to sacrifice my Sundays mouthing words I do not believe.
My husband has become a pillar of the church community, but I don’t want to increase my involvement – instead, I’d like to find a community where I feel at home. I suggested we try the Quakers, a space where I could feel free to be myself, but my husband was clearly not comfortable with the setup.
We do enjoy shared interests, but have quite different jobs and, despite our best efforts, our friendship groups sadly don’t seem to mix well. Church feels like just another difference.
We are in our 50s and met after difficult first marriages. I’d like to share my husband’s enthusiasm for church, but part of me worries that I can’t carry on like this for decades. I adore my husband – he is kind, funny and attractive, and there is no one with whom I’d rather spend my time. Just not in a Church of England pew.
Then don’t. I appreciate you feel like a fraud, but lots of people go to church who don’t believe in all of it; you’re probably in more like-minded company than you realise. My interest is in why you feel you have to go?
I went to UK Council for Psychotherapy-registered psychotherapist Jacquie Keelan, who said it’s “understandable your letter felt a bit despairing given the feelings you express about the church you go to: alienated, meaningless, fraud. It’s a world away from the spiritual home you’re searching for.” But Keelan urged you to realise you don’t have to “carry on like this for decades”. Plenty of couples don’t share religious beliefs and don’t go to each other’s places of worship. As Keelan said, “Making our own choices in life is an integral part of becoming autonomous adults. I wonder why it feels so weighty and even insurmountable now to reconcile your beliefs and your husband’s?”
Keelan and I felt there were pluses here. “You’ve negotiated eight years together after difficult marriages,” she said, “and found ways to reconcile differences while enjoying shared interests. It might be helpful to reflect on how you managed that, and apply that wisdom to your current concerns.”
You said you tried the Quakers, but your husband was uncomfortable. And? You’re uncomfortable in his church for him; can’t he sit in discomfort for a morning for you? Does he know how you feel? I wondered if this was really not so much about church, but actually about you: your needs, your beliefs, your desire for somewhere you can “be yourself”. Aside from church, does your husband ever go along to something you really like doing?
What are you enthusiastic about? Maybe if you found this, what your husband does on a Sunday morning wouldn’t matter, because you’d have your thing. Maybe your God is to be found in nature, art or other people. You decide.
In your longer letter, you mentioned I might want to know about your childhood, but actually I’m more interested in your past relationship, the “difficult” marriage. I’d explore what happened there and what might be being playing out again here.
Every week, Annalisa Barbieri addresses a personal problem sent in by a reader. If you would like advice from Annalisa, please send your problem to ask.annalisa@theguardian.com. Annalisa regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence. Submissions are subject to our terms and conditions. The latest series of Annalisa’s podcast is available here.

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