So, how's marriage?
It’s the question of the moment. Almost always asked with a smile and a look of happy anticipation the answer each person is waiting for is written all over their politely curious faces. Most would be satisfied with a monosyllabic answer like, “Great!” while the more genuinely interested are hoping for something to the effect of “Oh, it’s just wonderful! I can share everything with her and I’m so glad I found her!” Each request has one thing in common: a desire to see new love glow with discovery and eager anticipation for the future.
What if love isn’t that easy? What if it’s not a just a fluttery feeling in the bottom of my stomach I can’t seem to get over? What if the past few months have been some of the hardest of my entire life? What do I say then?
“So, how’s marriage?”
“Well … so far, it’s been one of the most painful experiences of my entire life.”
I can only imagine the horror that would cross the face of each unwitting recipient of this news. The thoughts that must be running through their heads about the divorce rate in America, how marriage must be an overrated contractual agreement that enforces unnatural monogamy on people foolish enough to buy into the tradition, or even sympathy for the pain my new wife and I are facing. For others our fairly short engagement will undoubtedly come to mind along with any number of other reasons our marriage must not be “working”.
I remember years and years ago saying to my Mother “I want to be in love.” and her reply, “Do you want to be in pain?” At the time I paused to consider this idea and replied “Yes.” I’m not sure I knew what I was getting into then. I’m sure I had visions of Romeo and Juliet deciding they were in love and that they would have to take on the world together. I probably day dreamed about slaying dragons and saving princesses who would nurse my wounds. What I did not realize was this was not the kind of pain my Mother was talking about. What I did not realize was I am the dragon that needs slaying.
Almost every week or two since I have been married there has been an argument sometimes they could even be classified as fights. We’ve argued about some of the stupidest things from who’s going to do the dishes to how full the gas tank was left on the car. We have had emotional conversations about the fact that one or the other of us does not “feel loved”. We have cried, we have yelled, we have thrown things, and been silent for almost an entire day. In any other context you might think I was describing a kindergarten classroom and some days it honestly feels like that. It’s been painful, scary sometimes, confusing, and anything but easy. But I’ve been wondering lately who it was that said love should be easy.
Every time I am faced with this tension and misunderstanding I find that I am learning yet another lesson about my own inadequacy. Even more I find that I am struggling with selfishness and pride I didn’t even know I had. I didn’t realize how hard it is for me to say I’m sorry until I was put in a place where I should be saying it almost every day. A place where we only have one bed and not enough room to sleep and be angry at the same time.
If I tell someone the truth about these first few months of marriage I’m not telling it for his or her sympathy or to illustrate some great point about marriage as an institution. Neither am I doubting that my marriage can last or that my marriage is in fact “working”. I would not be trying to make generalizations for the benefit of other marriages because I know that every marriage is as unique as each individual person squared. No, if I were to tell the truth about our marriage’s beginning it would simply be because it’s the truth and because I have discovered something that is incredible.
I have found that in my marriage happiness is not the highest goal. Every day that I spend with my wife I am faced with defending a point of view that I may not agree with. I am challenged to look at my actions from another person’s point of view like I never have before. And each day I am a better person because of it. I am growing and changing, I am become more and more the man I want to be. This, I believe, is the reason I am married. This is the reason I have committed to allowing another person to come first until the day I die.
So, when I am asked the constant question about my marriage I may not be able to give the glowing happy answer that is expected. I may not be able to say, “The world is wonderful, I love her, and I hope nothing ever changes!” but I can say, “I love her and for her sake and mine, I hope everything changes.”
“So, how’s marriage?”
“Well … I think it’s going to change my life in so many ways I can’t even begin to comprehend them all. And you know, I’m looking forward to that.”