MUM-of-three and PR boss Sally Brockway, 59, reckons she’s the polar opposite to husband Gavin, 63, an IT consultant.
But the couple, from Surrey, believe that’s why their marriage works.
MY husband Gavin is one of the most boring men you’ll meet, and we’re very different in outlook – but that’s the way I like it.
I like to get out there, he will stay indoors.
He’s an introvert I’m an extrovert.
I’m impulsive, he’s a thoughtful procrastinator.
I’m loud and he speaks quietly.
I swear and he doesn’t.
I lose my temper, he rarely does.
But all of this is why we work and I can’t ever see us splitting up.
Today is Divorce Day, as lawyers see a spike in the number of couples calling time on marriage after a hectic festive season.
There are wives who think “New Year, new start” or enforced time together has made them realise how much they hate their husbands.
For others, the financial pressures prove to be the final straw.
Gavin spends hardly any money on himself, he’s not interested.
I’m quite materialistic, but he’s the least materialistic person I’ve met.
Forty-two per cent of marriages end in divorce and maybe, if I’d married the sort of man I used to date, that could have been me.
In the early stages of a relationship the excitement is fantastic, but will it still work in ten, 20 years when you’re juggling children, bills, ageing parents or whatever?
It’s then that you want someone solid and reliable — not surprises.
After 20 years of marriage, we’re still happy.
Gavin may be a nerdy, boring type on paper, but in the bedroom he is a generous, exciting lover.
He wouldn’t want me to say too much but let’s just say our sex life ticks along nicely.
I’ve never worried about him cheating on me or flirting with other women.
In fact, I enjoy seeing him in female company, because he’s quite funny — even if his jokes are an acquired taste.
Gavin doesn’t mind me spending time with other men, either.
What I really love is salsa dancing.
I took it back up a year ago.
I used to do it in my twenties — and when a class started at the end of my road, I thought, “Why not?”
It gives me an endorphin rush.
I love to dance, I love moving my body to music, it’s really freeing.
I’m not going to be on Strictly any time soon but I’m all right.
Once a month or so, our teacher takes us to a salsa party somewhere.
The last one was in a village hall in Epsom, Surrey.
I spent the night dancing with different men.
I got home about 1am, on a high, and Gavin was on the sofa watching a police procedural programme, waiting for me.
He wasn’t fretting about me spending the night dancing with other men, he just wanted to make sure I got home safely.
I do ballet and tap as well as salsa.
I’m out at dance classes five days a week. It gives me energy.
When I took up salsa, I did ask Gavin if he wanted to come, although I knew what the answer would be.
There’s no way Gavin would ever do a salsa class.
He said it wasn’t for married mid-lifers.
“Isn’t it for single people?” he asked.
“There’s a lot of close contact and a lot of slimy blokes that just want to rub up against women.”
But he didn’t try to stop me because he trusts me.
There’s no jealousy in my relationship with Gavin.
We’ve got mutual trust.
And besides, salsa isn’t like that.
People take it really seriously.
They’re not there to pick people up.
I can dance with men and know I’m not crossing lines and they’re not crossing lines.
Gavin may be a nerdy, boring type on paper, but in the bedroom he is a generous, exciting lover
Sally Brockway
There’s a leader and a follower — I’m a follower, though probably not in my relationship with Gavin.
He doesn’t have any hobbies.
Gavin’s favourite occupation is discussing his various old-man ailments — his arthritic toe, groin strain, bad eyesight.
We’re very different personalities.
After a painless menopause, I have bags of energy and love adventure, while Gavin prefers to stay home and watch TV.
He’s never happier than when watching property shows or crime shows.
Is that boring?
Some might say so.
But there’s a lot to be said for the reliable, trustworthy type.
I used to choose exciting men — dark and moody, musicians, poets, a bit unpredictable.
I had my heart shattered a thousand times — and if I’d married a man like this, it would almost certainly have ended in divorce.
But then, in 1998 when I was 33, I went on holiday on my own and met Gavin.
I didn’t fancy him at first.
I thought: “Oh, he’s a bit nerdy.”
But he was so kind and sweet and he listened to me.
He was also quite funny.
I assumed we’d be just friends, I used to tell him stories of my failed relationships and bad days — but then one day, I looked at him and thought: “Imagine going out with someone like him who I could trust unreservedly, who is always reliable, not unpredictable.”
We went on a date and the rest, as they say . . .
I wanted to marry and have kids and needed a secure relationship.
Gavin was the person for that.
We got married in 2004, in a register office.
We had two children by then.
We didn’t want to make a big thing about it.
It was really boring.
I said to Gavin, I’d rather have a new kitchen than a big wedding, and he said: “Fine.”
We want different things from life, but that’s OK.
You don’t have to share hobbies to be happy.
Unless he’s waiting up for me after a night out salsa dancing, Gavin falls asleep in front of the TV, mostly about 10pm.
We’re opposites.
I take pride in clothes and appearance.
Everywhere you look there’s advice on how to eat, sleep, exercise and even think better.
Gavin takes a relaxed approach.
He’s not interested in fashion — he wears the same tracksuit bottoms and charcoal grey cashmere jumper every day apart from at weddings and funerals.
He doesn’t spend much money at all but doesn’t mind if I splash out occasionally.
My mid-life girlfriends and I all feel that this is the final third of our lives and we want to do all the things we’ve always wanted to do.
Now that my children have grown up, I want to enjoy myself.
Gavin doesn’t feel the same need.
He tells me our Cairn terrier, Wooster, likes to have someone at home keeping him company.
Gavin keeps the bed warm when I’m out enjoying myself, burning the candle at both ends.
I might go into town to meet up with girlfriends, or network with business owners.
I go dancing, love the cinema, weekend trips, spa weekends — all sorts.
Gavin, on the other hand, is not that sociable and doesn’t have many friends.
He overworks in the day job and has little space for anything else.
Do we go out together?
Just once a year, on my birthday.
Gavin wouldn’t want to overdo it.
But I believe I’m lucky — I have friends whose husbands have run up secret debts, had affairs or hidden drugs or gambling habits.
As the years go by, my love for him has deepened. I would never swap him for the exciting types of my younger years. I don’t need excitement like I did in my youth, I need love and companionship
Sally Brockway
Gavin’s a loving father, too.
He’s in touch with his emotions in a way my father wasn’t, and that’s a thing I wanted for my kids.
They adore him.
We remain close — physically and emotionally.
As the years go by, my love for him has deepened.
I would never swap him for the exciting types of my younger years.
I don’t need excitement like I did in my youth, I need love and companionship.
Gavin has always encouraged me to do the things I love.
I can get out there and enjoy myself without having to worry whether he is happy, or what he’s up to.
Marrying Mr Boring can be the antidote to Divorce Day.
If more women married the sensible bloke, rather than the exciting one, the divorce rate wouldn’t be so high.
WELL, he insists he’s not quite the Mr Boring that his missus makes him out to be – but agrees with most of the rest.
He says: “I don’t think I’m dull! Sally and I are very different.
She’s a livewire who’s always out doing stuff whether it’s dance classes, networking etc, while I am a bit of a homebody.
I’ve always been that way.
I absolutely think our differences are what keep us together.
There has to be a balance, a yin and a yang. Chalk and cheese. Opposites attract.”
