I used to talk to a guy at work, younger than me, and he'd go on and on about his love for fishing, boating, etc. I spent my summers on Cape Cod so I could relate to the anecdotes he told me. The time he caught this big fish, the time he got red spots all over his legs after clamming, the time he got to pilot this big yacht. Etc., etc. Where was his wife? Bitching and complaining that he was spending all this time fishing.
(Maybe he did it to get away from her? Nope, he insisted he loved her and had been fishing since a child.)
I felt so bad for the guy. Here he was, telling me - a woman ten years older than him - about his fishing. We'd stand in the hall for corridor duty (both of us science teachers) and he'd go on and on about his stories. He told them to me and another, even older woman. We were genuinely interested in his stories - he knew how to tell a good one.
I remember thinking, if you love a guy, you let the guy do what he loves to do. If you can share in that interest, you do so. If you can't, you at least let him do it. Life is too short for anything else.
Well, the guy ended up divorcing his wife and now lives on a boat.
And me, I got a guy who'll say, go and write for Chrissake! I make a little money doing it, not a lot, but he's supportive. So are my kids.
If your wife isn't complaining, keep her, love her. She's golden. And don't feel guilty.