Below are some of the things I talked about with Leila (not her real name, obviously) over tea and ginger cake. These thoughts come from my own life and from the lives of many women who have written me since All Fours came out, as well as the conversations I had while writing it. Please give your own advice to Leila in the comments. Feel free to speak to the complications of children, financial dependency, etc. – we are making big decisions in an unjust, difficult world. This post could be a nice place for women to go when they are having this feeling. (Note: Leila is married to a man so these are slanted a bit that way but most should be applicable to everyone.) (Also this is heavily biased; Leila already had a lot of people telling her to stay and work it out.)
- I do believe (and I tell this to my child) that romantic relationships are usually not supposed to be lifelong, but rather a season of a particular length, to be determined. People default to "lifelong" in part because it can be really hard to trust your gut about the length of the season. Some relationships only last a few weeks (or a night) but you spend the rest of your life using things you learned from them. No length is better or more profound than any other length. But knowing the right length is profound, letting relationships change and perhaps even come back as friendships, that is very meaningful. My very best man-friend was once my worst boyfriend.
- In the case of a long relationship, you better hope you're not the exact same person you were at the start. And that alone can be reason to leave. You simply know yourself better now, you would not choose that person if you met them now or you perhaps you would choose them all over again but you would describe yourself and your needs much differently in those first dates and: they might not have chosen you. It might have just been a fling if they had known who you really were and what you wanted. (For example: you're really, not just a little, bisexual. You're devoted and consistent but not monogamous. You see yourself primarily as a solo adventurer, not in terms of a couple. Etc.)
- Often there is a new person involved in this crisis. Indeed it is the new person who makes it a crisis, who brings it to a breaking point. Most of the time this new person does not endure but they are still very significant in the story of your life (a friend of mine calls these people crowbars — they get you out.) What I really think is that you are not doing it for this new person, but for this new side of yourself. The new love speaks to this side of you so it seems very tied to them. It’s hard to trust your new side because it has no credit score, no deeds in its name. You don't know how trustworthy or good it is. In fact every instinct and every friend may tell you it's for sure untrustworthy and not good — it's tearing up your home! Home good! New side of you bad! I would generally say: take risks in order to know yourself. (...)
- One friend had an elaborate plan designed to make her leaving the marriage more palatable and understandable to her husband. It involved several lies and I was nodding for a while, it seemed plausible, maybe even kind. But then I remembered something! "Maybe he doesn't need to understand or approve of what you’re doing?" She laughed in horror – it was, after all, a plan to leave him. This is where it gets tricky. Because for a long while you are still a part of him, like trees with entangled roots. So it is very hard to think your desires aren’t dangerous. It feels almost suicidal. The confusion of this probably stops a lot of women in their tracks.
- As you are so busily trying to think of how to not hurt your partner you might consider that a wife who doesn't want to be with him might not be such a great prize. He might be able to do better. And you might want this for him.
- The one person I know who regrets blowing up her long marriage did it very abruptly, with no conversation before, no couples therapy, no period of questioning. She was trying to be a good person: she had fallen in love with someone new and did not want to cheat. The new love did not ultimately work out and the whole thing seemed like madness in retrospect. But when I ask her if she wishes she was still with her long-time partner she says, Not usually. She just can’t believe how black and white her thinking was back then. And some nights she does wonder if she made a big mistake.
by Miranda July, Substack | Read more:
Image: uncredited
[ed. Dissenting opinions: Ladies, Miranda July is Not Your Friend (IFFS); and, Miranda July's Lucrative Fantasies (Freddie deBoer):]
"For example, you may remember a now-ancient controversy about whether women “can have it all.” This was a big, meaty, thinkpiece-and-take-generating debate years back. What “having it all” meant was never entirely clear, but the basic debate concerned whether women had to choose between having their careers and raising children/having a family. Of course, the answer to all of these questions depends a great deal on whether the woman and her partner have the socioeconomic flexibility to pay for various kinds of child care; this (correct) observation was often dropped on social media like some kind of gnostic bauble. Some attempted to connect the debate to other flashpoints of modern female identity, like the endlessly-blogged “cool girl” speech featured in Gone Girl. I stayed out of this fray, at the time, but privately I held with those who were pointing out that “having it all” was an unrealistic goal for anyone, not just for women. Yes, there are of course unique difficulties when it comes to women both flourishing in their careers and starting a family, and these are no doubt influenced not just by biology but by structural sexism. Still, everyone’s ambitions are constrained in prosaic ways in life, including men, and (like the directive to be cartoonishly self-confident) the goal of it having it all becomes just another set of expectations that women can’t possibly meet. (...)
Which brings me to Miranda July and the micro-movement she’s spawned with her book All Fours: convincing aging women that they should leave their long-term partners, or stop looking for one, and just spend the rest of their lives cycling through one lover after another, enjoying a pleasantly hedonistic existence unbound by the restrictions of conventional morality - and, it seems, by mortality and time, which have conspicuously little presence in all of this. July’s book is a novel and does not advocate for a specific path for women, but her extremely successful newsletter more or less does, and the large online movement July has sparked certainly prefers to embrace the ethos of Just Dump Your Husband Already. This has all been aided by a massive amount of attention from media, both traditional and new - very large presence of Lady Podcasts, mentions in Emily Gould’s newsletter for the Cut, a profound fixation in the New York Times. Here’s Marie Solis with the initial worshipful profile, here’s Alyson Krueger with that classic indicator of social importance, an NYT Style-section trend piece, here’ss Mirielle Silcoff with a charming little bit of football-spiking, protesting against depictions of aging women that make them appear unfulfilled or sexless. (Protesting, perhaps, too much.) We could get into the whole phenomenon here of people being moved to explicitly explain and justify their happiness to others, in the pages of the New York Times no less; you can’t help but wonder who exactly they’re trying to convince. Still, if your wife writes thinkpieces for the Times you might want to keep a close eye on her Pinterest.
As I wrote recently, what media sells in 2025 is permission; that is our product. Apparently a lot of women were waiting for a particular kind of permission that Miranda July has provided. What’s remarkable about all of this cheering on of July in our most elite publications is not just its sheer volume, but also how untouched it is by skepticism or pushback. It’s not just that a certain kind of person at a certain kind of publication wants this story told; they also don’t want to hear anyone object to it. And I think this is the “Can women have it all?” phenomenon again, where saying that a particular kind of happiness for women is genuinely unattainable is too easily represented as saying that you don’t want them to attain it."
"For example, you may remember a now-ancient controversy about whether women “can have it all.” This was a big, meaty, thinkpiece-and-take-generating debate years back. What “having it all” meant was never entirely clear, but the basic debate concerned whether women had to choose between having their careers and raising children/having a family. Of course, the answer to all of these questions depends a great deal on whether the woman and her partner have the socioeconomic flexibility to pay for various kinds of child care; this (correct) observation was often dropped on social media like some kind of gnostic bauble. Some attempted to connect the debate to other flashpoints of modern female identity, like the endlessly-blogged “cool girl” speech featured in Gone Girl. I stayed out of this fray, at the time, but privately I held with those who were pointing out that “having it all” was an unrealistic goal for anyone, not just for women. Yes, there are of course unique difficulties when it comes to women both flourishing in their careers and starting a family, and these are no doubt influenced not just by biology but by structural sexism. Still, everyone’s ambitions are constrained in prosaic ways in life, including men, and (like the directive to be cartoonishly self-confident) the goal of it having it all becomes just another set of expectations that women can’t possibly meet. (...)
Which brings me to Miranda July and the micro-movement she’s spawned with her book All Fours: convincing aging women that they should leave their long-term partners, or stop looking for one, and just spend the rest of their lives cycling through one lover after another, enjoying a pleasantly hedonistic existence unbound by the restrictions of conventional morality - and, it seems, by mortality and time, which have conspicuously little presence in all of this. July’s book is a novel and does not advocate for a specific path for women, but her extremely successful newsletter more or less does, and the large online movement July has sparked certainly prefers to embrace the ethos of Just Dump Your Husband Already. This has all been aided by a massive amount of attention from media, both traditional and new - very large presence of Lady Podcasts, mentions in Emily Gould’s newsletter for the Cut, a profound fixation in the New York Times. Here’s Marie Solis with the initial worshipful profile, here’s Alyson Krueger with that classic indicator of social importance, an NYT Style-section trend piece, here’ss Mirielle Silcoff with a charming little bit of football-spiking, protesting against depictions of aging women that make them appear unfulfilled or sexless. (Protesting, perhaps, too much.) We could get into the whole phenomenon here of people being moved to explicitly explain and justify their happiness to others, in the pages of the New York Times no less; you can’t help but wonder who exactly they’re trying to convince. Still, if your wife writes thinkpieces for the Times you might want to keep a close eye on her Pinterest.
As I wrote recently, what media sells in 2025 is permission; that is our product. Apparently a lot of women were waiting for a particular kind of permission that Miranda July has provided. What’s remarkable about all of this cheering on of July in our most elite publications is not just its sheer volume, but also how untouched it is by skepticism or pushback. It’s not just that a certain kind of person at a certain kind of publication wants this story told; they also don’t want to hear anyone object to it. And I think this is the “Can women have it all?” phenomenon again, where saying that a particular kind of happiness for women is genuinely unattainable is too easily represented as saying that you don’t want them to attain it."