Marriage is hard. I feel like people don’t say this enough. On social media, we’re shown the facade of picture perfect relationships. All smiles and kisses – look how in love we are. The romantic movies we watch culminate with the happy ever after, with no notion of what’s to comes when the honeymoon bleeds in to real life. We don’t see the petty squabbles about whose turn it is to empty the dishwasher. The held resentment because of something he said last year. The reality, that you’re more likely to be up all night because of his snoring, than from the constant unbridled lovemaking.
I feel like this sets us up for failure. At the first signs of trouble, we think we must be doing it wrong. That we picked the wrong guy. It’s not surprising then, that we throw in the towel, to take our chance with somebody else.
It took me too long to realise this. I’ll admit, there were definitely times when I wondered if he was the right boy. If I was the right girl.
Unrealistic Expectations
Personally, I blame book boyfriends (I’m looking at you Jamie Fraser). An avid reader, the books I read, without doubt, influenced my expectations for future relationships. These perfect men, with their chiseled abs (that they don’t need to work for), and their obsessive love (dominant, but always the right side of controlling), and their grand gestures (because they know you so well).
These men never snore, or pee on the toilet seat, or use the toilet at all for that matter. They always smell fresh, like pine or the outdoors, and the only time they get angry is at the defence of their one true love. I joke with my husband about my latest book boyfriend’s 6ft 3 frame, excessively sized length, and magic tongue – which can apparently make a woman climax in mere seconds. He winces and clutches his 58 year old back when I suggest he pick me up and take me against the wall.
But Rhysand can do it, so why can’t you?
I knew that women were objectified through patriarchal movies, or worse, pornography, leaving men with unrealistic expectations of sex and love. Now I realise that it can work both ways.
Twenty Years
I wrote about marriage a couple of years ago, around the time of my twentieth wedding anniversary. Wanting to mark the occasion, I had planned on professing its many virtues. Then, my husband annoyed me, and what I really wanted to write was much less complimentary. That right there, is marriage in a nutshell.
Marriage is hard, but it’s also great. After twenty plus years, I feel like we have finally found our groove. In the past, I worried that it took us longer than it should have to get here. Now, I don’t think that’s true. Michelle Obama said that she hated Barack for a good ten-years of their marriage; when he was over-working and she was carrying more than her share of the family load. Another writer said that marriage became much easier after twenty years together.
It helps to hear this stuff. To know that it’s not just me who has gone through numerous relationships with the same man. Not all of them good. If I’d have known this would be the case, I wouldn’t have worried half as much.
Real life
I love being married. That familiarity you have with a person after being with them for so long. The shorthand. The ability to communicate without talking. The in jokes. That feeling of being a part of a team. Knowing someone will pick up the slack when you’ve had a tough day.
There are women in my life who, for one reason or another, are currently managing alone. Working full time, while juggling all of the childcare. Carrying every part of the mental and financial load. That burden of responsibility can be overwhelming and I appreciate how lucky I am to be able to share it.
Some things can only be learned through experience. That’s real life. There’s no way that twenty-five year old, just wed, me would have had been able to appreciate the work that goes into maintaining a long marriage. I needed to go through all of those iterations of myself, to live those different relationships, to be rewarded with the relationship I have now.
Marriage is great
While you are living in the world, you can’t escape life. Work, and kids and other people are always going to put a strain on you individually and as a couple. There’s no such thing as perfect. Relationships are no exception.
But, with time, comes wisdom. You learn to let things go. To not sweat the small stuff. The hard edges soften and with that comes another level of connection. One that blurs the petty annoyances, and highlights all of the good stuff instead.
Sometimes I catch a glimpse of my husband and I, making dinner or feeding the pets, and I can’t help but smile. The ease with which we move around each other, the predictability of our actions. I spent years looking for the grand gestures, and in doing so missed all of the subtle ways he was professing his love. The coffee he brings me in bed at the weekend. Filling the car with fuel because I hate doing it. Making my lunch just the way I like it. Looking after my family because he knows how much they mean to me. This is his love language and he uses it often.
These days, I find joy in the simplest of things. Walking together around our local country park. The surprise text message in the middle of the day. Our new shared love of learning to play the ukulele.
Have you heard that saying? Those who uke together, stay together.
