The Junky’s Wife recently posted about an article that’s been doing its wildfire dance through the Internet. It passed through my inbox several times as girlfriend after girlfriend blasted it out to everyone in their address books until I got the creepy feeling that this was the latest set of helpful household hints, the marital equivalent of that e-mail I keep getting about how to use Bounce fabric softener sheets to do everything from repel mosquitoes to deodorize sneakers. Here’s the answer, ladies! When your husband tells you he doesn’t love you anymore: tell him you don’t buy it, detach from his craziness and he will eventually run back to you, making your marriage good as new! Finally, the right way to do things. But here’s the part where I get to say that I don’t buy it.

My husband and I have known each other more than 20 years now, we’ve spent more than a decade of that time married and more than half of our marriage in recovery. I have newcomers ask me all the time how I did it. How did I get my husband into recovery? How did I get him to realize he was screwing up? How did I get him to leave the addiction and come back to me? What did I do to make the marriage work? Because my husband is working his recovery, he’s doing great, our marriage is thriving. I must have done something super smart and healthy to make that happen, right?

But I didn’t. I did the same thing that nearly all of us partners do. I yelled at him. I hit him. I cried and cried and didn’t get out of bed. I cursed at him. I told him he was awful and worthless. I threatened him with leaving, with taking his children away, with exposure. I kept him up late at night grilling him about every detail of his addictive behavior. I called private investigators about having him followed. I badgered him for details of his meetings with his therapist and his shares in 12 Step. I tried to tell him how to handle his recovery: how many meetings he should go to, what behaviors he should watch out for, what jobs he should take and how he should talk to people.

In short, I did everything “wrong.” And, to quote, Munson “it worked.” Or to tell the truth, “it” didn’t. I don’t control my husband through my actions. Thinking I could was what got me into recovery in the first place. That my marriage has survived so far isn’t due to the prescient brilliance of my own actions. I know women who have been lovingly detached and healthy only to have their marriages fail, while I was absolutely insane and my marriage is still vibrant and alive. My marriage has worked so far because, Mark and I both happened to hit bottom close enough together that we were willing and able to work on ourselves and our relationship before it fell apart. If either of us had not realized we had work to do, or not wanted to do the work, we wouldn’t be here. And my skill (or lack thereof) in handling my interactions with Mark didn’t bring him to his blinding moment of truth any more than his brought me to mine.

Learning detachment and boundaries has been a wonderful thing, and I hope that when Mark and I hit our next crisis, I can handle it with grace. But I hope that not because it will be likeliest to result in the continuation and success of my marriage, but because I will be doing what is best for me, and for my spiritual and emotional health and well-being, regardless of what happens in my marriage.