“My first impression? Deeply uncool.”
Bruce Robinson – best known as the writer and director of Withnail and I – met artist Sophie Windham at an Italian restaurant in London in 1982. He proposed three days later. They have been married for 42 years and still live and work side by side in the Welsh borders. They have two grown-up children, Lily and Willoughby.
Sophie
Bruce has been writing obsessively since I met him – anyone who wasn’t creative themselves would have found that hard to handle. We cut our honeymoon short after just three days because he had a script deadline, and even now he often works until 10pm. As a painter, I understand that drive. He doesn’t mind if I disappear into my studio for the day.
When our children were young, I was very much the mum looking after the kids, fitting in book illustrations during my free time, while Bruce’s work took priority. He was constantly writing scripts, which was fortunate because I couldn’t have supported the family on my income alone. Now that the children have left home, things are more balanced; we both work similar hours. Sometimes that means we’re apart all day and only meet up for dinner. Bruce appreciates good food, but if I’m not around, he won’t eat. I think it’s because he spent so many years drinking red wine and chain-smoking. When you’re drinking a lot, you don’t feel like eating. Bruce isn’t drinking now and gave up cigarettes years ago, but he still doesn’t think about food. At lunch, he might just have a pickled onion or an ice cream. So I cook us a meal in the evening.
My first impression of Bruce was that he was deeply uncool. It was the post-punk era, and all my friends had spiky hair, while Bruce wore a low-cut shirt and these awful cowboy boots. He also talked at me for 40 minutes about how much he hated Margaret Thatcher, and his ranting was a bit off-putting. He still rants about Thatcher over dinner, but I can’t say I wasn’t warned. I try not to get him started on politics. Seeing him open the Guardian is my cue to leave.
Through it all, I’ve remained very much in love with Bruce because, at heart, he’s a kind, sensitive, and funny person. I remember friends saying, “I’m not in love with my husband anymore,” but I never understood that. For many years, I was obsessed with Bruce, and I think he felt the same about me. Now that we’ve been together so long, it’s changed a bit. It’s grown into a deep love, rather than the besotted kind.
Bruce
Sophie doesn’t really annoy or upset me in any way, even though I know she can’t say the same. The only time I get a little frustrated is when she dismisses what I see as a political breakthrough. She says it’s because she’s heard all my breakthroughs before, but that’s not true because I have new ones all the time.
We bicker a little, but I think we still genuinely enjoy each other’s company, even after all these years. We live in the countryside and are lucky to have plenty of space, so we can get away from each other when needed. Having that escape might be part of what makes our marriage work. We don’t demand too much of each other’s time. I’m one of the few people in England without a mobile phone, and we don’t really watch TV. I can’t stand all that. Sometimes we read in the evenings, though Sophie likes novels, which I rarely do. I prefer textbooks.
We’ve worked on children’s books together, but I think one reason we’re so compatible is that our work is so different. There’s never been any competitiveness – if she’d been a writer too, we might have spent all day arguing about commas.As writers, we could have spent all day debating commas. Soph can paint in her studio while having full phone conversations, but if I hear distant voices in the background, I can’t write. Still, we understand each other. She needs to shut the door on me to work well, and I need to do the same to her.
I must admit we differ in our love for red wine. I like to write with it because it silences the inner voice that says, “You can’t write that. You just can’t.” I used to have a glass before brushing my teeth in the morning to get in the mood for writing—not my fondest memory. But the fact that we’re still together and in love must mean we got something right, right? Sophie Windham’s next exhibition is at The Table in Hay-on-Wye from 4th to 17th May 2026. Bruce Robinson is directing the play of Withnail and I, set to open in London in the spring.
“I often think, look at this woman go!”
Author Roxane Gay first heard from designer and podcaster Debbie Millman through a series of emails about her work that Debbie sent and Roxane never replied to. They married during the pandemic and now divide their time between Los Angeles and New York.
Roxane recalls: About eight years ago, Debbie wrote me a beautiful email saying my book Hunger resonated with her, as if I were telling the story of her own body. I was curious about her, but I’d never met her, and she was just a stranger emailing my work account. Plus, I was in a relationship then, so I didn’t respond. Luckily, Debbie is persistent and took my silence in stride. Over the next two years, she occasionally emailed me about articles I’d written or talks I’d given. Eventually, a mutual friend put in a good word, and by then my relationship status had changed, so I thought, why not? Debbie sent me a very formal message saying she wanted to “take me out on a proper date,” and I was charmed by how she phrased it. At 43, no one had ever asked me out so officially before. Debbie wanted the whole nine yards—dinner, a real date—and she was clear about her romantic intentions, which I appreciate.
When we first met, Debbie was about to leave on a month-long round-the-world trip, and I found it very attractive that she didn’t change her plans to see me. Now, travel is a big part of our life together, even though I used to be the type who wondered why go anywhere when we have a TV right here. We travel well together because I handle all the organizing. Debbie has all the ideas, and I make them happen. She’ll say, “Let’s go to the top of the world,” and I’ll say, “Let’s not, but okay,” and then I book everything.
That said, if there’s an issue with our room or flight, Debbie is the one who confronts someone about it. People often assume I’m the problem, but Debbie doesn’t tolerate nonsense. I love that about her; I call her my little enforcer. Debbie is a typical Scorpio: fierce and headstrong. When we started dating, we were walking in Manhattan and a guy bumped into her, seemingly on purpose. She grabbed him, shoved him back, and said, “Watch where you’re going.” It was impressive. I’ve spent my life hugging the sidewalk, thinking, “Don’t take up too much space,” but Debbie is the complete opposite.
To be fair, I’m in charge of planning because I’m much pickier about where we stay. Debbie would be fine in a bug-infested yurt, but my people are from Haiti, and I’ve had all the discomfort I need in life.We went on an expedition to Mongolia together, and you had a choice: sleep in the Gobi Desert with no facilities or stay at the Shangri-La in Ulaanbaatar. Guess which one I picked? I love doing things with Debbie, but I don’t want to hold her back from experiences she wants that I’m not interested in. We’re both set in our ways and old enough to accept each other as we are.
There’s no professional imbalance between us because we’re both at the peak of our careers. We recently opened a joint bank account, but we each have our own income, so we don’t argue about money. Of course, relationships can work even with imbalances, but being equals makes things much easier. And I’m not just talking about finances—intelligence matters too. In everyday life, I often watch Debbie and think, “Look at this woman go!”
Maybe our relationship works because we met when we were older. Thirty years ago, I wouldn’t have been ready. I was still recovering from deep trauma, whereas now I’m better at communicating. Debbie is very open with her feelings, while I tend to keep mine locked inside. I know she doesn’t like it when I clam up, but she keeps asking because she loves with such intensity. Debbie doesn’t see herself this way, but she’s incredibly passionate. Being loved by her is so all-encompassing and complete that it can be a little terrifying sometimes because I think, “It’s just me. How can you love me so much?”
Persistence is definitely one of my traits, except in romance. With Roxane, everything felt different from the start. I felt so in tune with her that I never felt insecure or played games. For the first time, I felt calm.
I’ve been married twice before. Third time’s the charm. My previous spouses were men, and unsurprisingly, those marriages didn’t work out. I always suspected I was gay, but I had a difficult upbringing, and the idea of being any more “different” than I already felt was too much to bear. After two marriages, I never thought I’d marry again—but I knew I loved Roxane and that she was my soulmate and lifelong partner. She had always wanted her father to walk her down the aisle, and to make her happy, I’d do anything. Now, being married to her feels different, and I love it.
My relationship with my family is complicated, so I feel lucky that Roxane’s parents have embraced me so fully. We love traveling together as a group. Losing Roxane’s mom last year has been very hard. We’re hoping her father will move in with us. We have a guest house attached to our home that would be perfect, though he understandably doesn’t want to give up his independence. But we spend a lot of time with him. We also have our cats and dog to care for. The pets are really in charge at home; Roxane and I are just tenants.
I used to fantasize about the kind of person who would be right for me. I imagined someone who would be really amused by me—and that’s Roxane!
We try to be aware of when each of us goes into a deep loss mode. I’m a crier. Roxane says I’m good at telling her exactly what I need in difficult moments. Sometimes I’ll say, “I don’t need you to fix it,” so she just listens. Chris Rock has a stand-up routine where he talks about how his girlfriend comes home from work, starts talking about her day, but doesn’t actually want feedback; she just wants him to listen to her complain about a friend, colleague, or boss. So Chris goes into what he calls “That bitch be crazy” mode. Sometimes Roxane asks, “Do you want feedback, or do you want ‘That bitch be crazy’?” If it’s the latter, she’ll just nod, listen, and exclaim, “Oh my God!” or “How dare she?!” Roxane isn’t so forthcoming with her own feelings.I can always tell when my partner is dealing with her own emotions, but I always say, “I know something’s going on. So unless you want me to keep asking, you’ll have to tell me.” She knows I won’t give up.
Roxane and I are very different, but we also have so much in common. We both love live theatre, and we enjoy going to see art and listen to music together. We’re both night owls, which works out well. I actually go to bed a bit earlier than Roxane, but she sits in bed next to me and plays online puzzles.
When I was younger, I used to imagine what kind of person would be right for me. I pictured someone who found me genuinely amusing—and that’s Roxane! She really is amused by me. We laugh together all the time, even at the silly little songs I make up. She helps me love being myself because she seems to enjoy who I am so much.
Roxane Gay edited The Portable Feminist Reader (available now from Penguin Random House). Debbie Millman is the host of the podcast Design Matters. Her book, Love Letter to a Garden (Hachette), is out now.
‘We use a traffic light system to tell each other about our tension levels’
Laura and Jon McClure – best known as the keyboard player and frontman of Reverend and the Makers – fell in love while forming their band in the 2000s and spent their early relationship partying until dawn and touring the world. Two decades, two children, and countless gigs later, life has a different rhythm.
Laura
When I got pregnant eight years into our relationship, it was a culture shock. Then I got pregnant again, and being a touring musician became even more logistically crazy. I’d be backstage with my boobs filling up, desperately trying to find a quiet spot to pump.
We wouldn’t be able to manage day-to-day without our huge family support network. Jon comes from a working-class Sheffield family where it’s normal to have lots of aunties and cousins pitch in with childcare. My parents help a lot, too. Spending time together without the kids is important, but it’s also important for Jon and me to have some time apart. I sing comedy songs with another band as a side project, and Jon always bigs that up. I also recently took a counseling course, and Jon was so supportive. He said, “Don’t even question it. We’ll make the hours work, no matter what.”
Our marriage hit a rough patch during Covid because we were trapped at home together, in each other’s faces all day, with no individual creative outlets. Jon is a messy person, and in normal life, I think, what does that matter? Jon loves me, tells me I’m beautiful every day, and says I’m a great mom. But when you’re home together all day, dirty pants by the bed suddenly seem so disrespectful. I’d look at Jon’s pants and think, “You don’t respect me at all!”
It can be tempting to just muddle through a bad period. You hope ignoring the difficult things will make them go away, but they don’t.
At one point during Covid, Jon formed a bubble with other musicians and went off to make a record. In one sense, it was great because we no longer had to panic about money, but I was all alone, homeschooling the kids. We’d talk on the phone, and Jon would tell me about caviar the label provided for the musicians in the studio that day, while I was sitting there eating fish fingers and chips. The resentment went both ways, though. Jon missed our kids and was envious of my close bond with them, while I was madly jealous that he got to have a poo without someone watching him.
During that rough patch, we developed a few new ways of communicating that still help us today. We use a traffic light system to tell each other about our tension levels. So I will say…Jon, “I’m on amber today, babe. Feeling a bit antsy and something could tip me over to red.” Or, “I’m on red: be aware.” Jon has gotten better at asking, “What can I do to help?” Even if I pretend I’m fine and handling everything perfectly, he’s learned to step in and organize things so I can go for a walk or visit my mum for the afternoon.
I think it can be tempting to just muddle through a rough patch in a marriage. You let the difficult issues lie dormant and hope that ignoring them will make them disappear—but they don’t. I tend to be an ostrich and bury my feelings. Jon is actually better at being open. What I love about him is that he wears his heart on his sleeve. He has this zest for life that’s infectious. His enthusiasm can be infuriating at times, too, but I love it.
Jon: The reality of being married to someone for 16 years is that it’s hard sometimes. We’re in a band together, and before the kids came along, we were partners in crime. We could be completely spontaneous. It would be like, “Do you want to go to Vietnam tomorrow?” And Laura’s reaction was always, “Yes! Let’s go!” But now, there’s an implicit understanding that when push comes to shove, Laura will stay home with our children, and I’ll go do the gig. That creates a weird dynamic where I get to do all the “fun stuff,” but Laura gets to be with the kids and receive all the cuddles. I miss our children, so I get jealous. I have to go away because I’m the frontman; I need to gig and earn money. But I recognize there’s an element of sexism to it all. To this day, if my mum comes over and the house is a mess because we’ve both been on tour, there’s an unspoken assumption that it’s all Laura’s fault.
Before we got together, I thought marriage was just a silly piece of paper and a waste of money. But Laura changed my mind.
COVID was a difficult time for us. We were together constantly, but it felt like we never sat down and had any proper conversations. By the time we got the kids to bed, we were too exhausted from homeschooling. I’ve always had an angry side—not violent, but argumentative. I’d walk around in a rage but found it hard to identify what I was actually feeling. During that time, we saw a counselor who helped me articulate “I feel sad” or “I feel jealous.” Sometimes I think your job as a partner and as a parent is to be a kind of human sieve. You take what you saw the couples in your family doing and try to keep the good parts while sifting out the bad. Laura is more emotionally intelligent than I am, and she has taught me a lot. She has made me a better person in that regard.
Before I got together with Laura, I didn’t really believe in marriage. I thought it was just a silly piece of paper and a waste of money. But I remember one night Laura gave me a lecture that changed my mind. She said we celebrate a lot of things in life that don’t technically mean anything, like getting another year older. Why shouldn’t you celebrate finding the person you want to share children with and tell your deepest, darkest secrets to? What could be a better cause for celebration, really? Reverend and the Makers’ eighth studio album, “Is This How Happiness Feels?”, is released on April 24, 2026, through Distiller Records.
“It’s not about every day being perfect.”
Novelists Greg and Kate Mosse met at school when they were 16, reconnected on a train in their late 20s, and married at 40 when their now-grown children, Felix and Martha, were seven and nine. Caring for elderly parents means their home in Chichester is always hectic.
Kate: Since Greg’s mum moved in with us in 1999, and later my parents too, there have been many birds in the nest. That might put a strain on some marriages, but not ours because we’ve always known each other’s families.We have the ability to love and care for each other’s parents as deeply as our own, without conditions. Greg looked after my father, who had Parkinson’s, and I care for Greg’s mother, whom I adore. Being caregivers has felt like a privilege, not a burden, though it has meant we have less freedom than many people our age in their sixties. We can’t be spontaneous, but we’ve made a point of setting aside time for just the two of us, even if it’s only for a lunch at the pub.
I used to see marriage as a patriarchal institution. But after people repeatedly asked if Greg was the father of our children, we decided to marry in a simple ceremony. It didn’t change our relationship—the most important decision we made was to have children. Neither of us had planned on becoming parents, but we knew we wanted them together.
Many assume Greg took on most of the childcare because he worked fewer hours and I was a public figure as a novelist, but we’ve always shared responsibilities equally. One of us steps up when the other needs to step back, and over time, it evens out. We fully support each other in everything we do and take equal pride in each other’s achievements. We respect one another and still find ourselves laughing together on the sofa at the same things.
What I admire most about Greg is his integrity. His sense of self has never depended on his job or others’ opinions. It’s challenging for men to move beyond the role of breadwinner, but Greg finds fulfillment and satisfaction in his work, which makes his passion for it all the more meaningful.
Since we’re both in the same field, we share our novels with each other first and understand the process. But our writing habits differ: I become completely absorbed while writing and then need to recover afterward, while Greg is more methodical. I keep my work to myself while I’m in the middle of it, but Greg handles his more lightly.
If you’re fortunate enough to find someone who fits you so perfectly, it’s not about every day being perfect. As caregivers, we often face pressure, but we don’t take it out on each other. We don’t always agree, but our disagreements don’t linger or matter in the long run. Sure, it’s irritating when I want to buy more cushions and Greg says we have too many, or when he rearranges whatever I put in the dishwasher. But we let those small things go while still holding our ground on what’s important. We don’t give weight to trivial matters.
Greg: My home life was unstable and unsettled, while Kate’s was secure and steady. When we reconnected, she gave me the lasting stability I had been missing. I took her surname in August 1989 before we married—it was important to me to share the same name as her and our children.
Living with both our parents and children has been challenging at times because each generation has different needs. When our kids were teens, life was like a never-ending festival for them, while the older generation wanted their daily routine, like a bowl of Alpen at the same time every day. As their health declined, we had to organize our lives around helping them shower, dressing wounds, and arranging care. As a couple, we had to plan for spontaneity.
We have different tastes in many things—someone once said the only thing we have in common is each other—but we don’t argue over small things. Emotionally, I didn’t feel the need for marriage. From the moment we met again on the train, I had complete faith in our relationship. We support each other, and that partnership has always guided our decisions. When Kate was starting as a writer, I trained to be a teacher because it was the best choice for our family. As she became more successful, I reduced my teaching to part-time and kept afternoons free.We are free to support our home life. Although we have different tastes in many things—someone once remarked that the only thing we share is each other—we don’t argue over trivial matters or seek reasons to be upset. Even if the house is filled with cushions, the dishwasher is loaded her way, or the fridge is packed with food as she prefers, it doesn’t bother me. Kate has an incredible ability to give, and I have been one of her beneficiaries. For that, I will always be thankful. “The Coming Fire” by Greg Mosse (Moonflower) and “The Map of Bones” by Kate Mosse (Pan Macmillan) are now available.
Frequently Asked Questions
Of course Here is a list of FAQs about navigating political discussions and household dynamics for couples in positions of influence
Beginner Definition Questions
1 What does avoiding getting him talking about politics mean in a relationship
It means one partner actively tries to steer conversations away from political topics to prevent arguments stress or tension that often arise from differing viewpoints
2 Why is this a common issue for couples in influential positions
When one or both partners are in the public eye or have influential careers their political opinions can have higher stakes attract public scrutiny and feel more personal making disagreements at home more intense
3 Whats the main goal when couples discuss their agreements and arguments
The main goal is to maintain a strong respectful and loving relationship by finding common ground and establishing rules for engagement even when you disagree on major issues like politics
Benefits Common Problems
4 What are the benefits of setting boundaries around political talk at home
It reduces daily stress prevents resentment from building up protects your quality time together and ensures your home remains a peaceful sanctuary rather than a debate stage
5 What are some common problems that arise from political disagreements
Common problems include frequent arguments feeling misunderstood or disrespected constant tension and letting political differences spill over and poison other unrelated areas of the relationship
6 Isnt avoiding politics just sweeping problems under the rug
Not if its done consciously A mutual agreement to avoid a triggering topic is a healthy boundary It becomes a problem only if its the only way you communicate and underlying resentments are never addressed
Examples Scenarios
7 Can you give an example of a healthy agreement about politics
A healthy agreement could be We can discuss political news for the first 10 minutes of dinner but if either of us gets heated we will immediately change the subject to something neutral like our plans for the weekend with no hard feelings
8 What does a typical argument look like and how can it be deescalated
A typical argument might start with a news headline and quickly turn into personal attacks To deescalate use I feel statements and suggest a timeout to cool down
