They both stared at me for a second. “Really?!” said the other mom. Her mouth formed an “O” before she added, “Congratulations!”
These people were right to be shocked. After all, most marriages do end in divorce these days. But not mine.
The dad had a point. Many people who I went to high school with are just now getting married, in their late thirties, or have gone through multiple relationships and divorces. It seems to be the anthem of the millennial generation, at least where I’m from. But my husband and I met and started dating in high school, and have been together ever since. In July of this year, it will be two decades since that summer of 2002, when our relationship began.
This is not normal. We are the exception, not the rule. I don’t want to romanticize our story as if it’s a success story, like I have a secret to a long-lasting marriage, because I haven’t figured it out yet.
Recently, I stumbled upon a quote by a worldwide love expert and relationship researcher named John Gottman, who said, “Our partners don’t always have to think like we think. That’s what makes life interesting—it would be boring to be married to yourself.” That’s exactly how I feel about my relationship with my husband.
“Our partners don’t always have to think like we think. That’s what makes life interesting—it would be boring to be married to yourself.” - John Gottman
My husband and I are complete opposites. Aside from the obvious racial differences, we grew up in different corners of the world, in completely different households. Despite all these differences, we found out that we had a lot in common. We came from similar class backgrounds. We used to live on the same street for a year and didn’t even know it. We both grew up with very little money. We both like kids and 90s music. We hold similar values about kids, parenting, careers and money. We’re both frugal in different ways. We never fight about money. Our idea of fun together is going hiking or camping, or simply grabbing a coffee on a mini-date.1
But let’s be real here: I may be better at managing our money and I even like doing taxes, but he cooks better than me. And he does it all the time. ALL THE TIME. Also, whenever he grows something (like shrubs, flowers, etc.) it doesn’t die. Plus, he’s genuinely interested in Asian cultures. He’s tried so many Vietnamese dishes and does it enthusiastically. I’m convinced that in a past life, he was Vietnamese. His birthday even falls on the day that Ho Chi Minh was born.
Those things aside, he is kind and generous and genuinely a nice person with a strong moral compass, so I know he’ll always do the right thing, no matter what.
In his two-part essay series called “How to Pick Your Life Partner,” writer Tim Urban says, “Marriage isn’t the honeymoon in Thailand—it’s day four of vacation #56 that you take together. Marriage is not celebrating the closing of the deal on the first house—it’s having dinner in that house for the 4,386th time. And it’s certainly not Valentine’s Day. Marriage is Forgettable Wednesday. Together.” Overall, it’s about the mundane things, the things that are often left out in popular culture. The 30th diaper that you changed. The 15th time that you reminded your spouse to take his keys, wallet, and cell phone. Or the 20th time that you (frustratingly) told your spouse to not soak the cast iron skillet (ahem). Marriage is every single forgettable day that you have together.
“Marriage is not celebrating the closing of the deal on the first house—it’s having dinner in that house for the 4,386th time. And it’s certainly not Valentine’s Day. Marriage is Forgettable Wednesday. Together.” - Tim Urban
But it’s also about the trials and tribulations that you go through together. Life will no doubt throw something at you the minute you become a couple. A death. An accident. An illness. A loss of income. An economic recession. A worldwide pandemic. Or some other tragic thing will happen. Whatever it is, it’s a test of your relationship. How you react with the experience and with each other will determine how long your relationship lasts.
John Gottman, the aforementioned love expert, also said this about friendships: “Friendship fuels the flames of romance because it offers the best protection against feeling adversarial toward your spouse.”
One of my favorite romantic comedies of all time is a 2008 film called Definitely, Maybe. In the movie, Will (played by Ryan Reynolds), a mid-thirty-something man on the cusp of a divorce is urged by his daughter Maya (played by Abigail Breslin), and thus tells the story of three women from his younger days who changed his life—one of them is her mother.
As the story progresses, more hints are dropped about who the girl’s mom is. Maya finally figures it out towards the end, based on a particular action Will revealed—something that only her mother does. But the story is not what it seems.
When I watched this movie with my husband last year, we both had ideas about who the mother is. We were surprised to find out that we were both wrong. But when the mystery was revealed, it made perfect sense. The woman whom Will had a child with was not the woman he was supposed to be with. That’s because the one he was supposed to be with was the one relationship that took the longest to develop.
It was painful to watch these two battle their feelings out internally. At some point, they even kissed, but eventually they decided to remain friends. They dated other people and continued to stay in touch throughout the years, refusing to believe that they were meant to be together.
This movie made me realize that the longest lasting relationships are the ones that have a strong foundation in friendship. You start off as friends, and you continue to be friends for awhile. Then you move into the romantic side, but even so, your expectations of that person is different because you see that person as a friend first and lover second.
When you view someone as a friend, you don’t expect them to be perfect like you would with a romantic partner. You only expect them to be themselves. And when they are able to be themselves, then you’re able to see all their flaws and their vulnerabilities, much like what we saw in Definitely, Maybe.
Will and April met at work, became friends, and remained friends for years. All the breakups, the mishaps, the bad decisions, everything became a talking point in their relationship. She was there for his most vulnerable moments and he was there for hers. They knew each other’s biggest fears and insecurities. With that awareness, or perhaps because of it, they accepted each other for who they are and didn’t expect anything more.
On the other hand, marriage is about knowing that the other person isn’t perfect, and entering that commitment willingly. Like Will and April, my husband and I became friends first and continued to stay friends. And, like Will and April, we’ve witnessed each other’s most vulnerable and embarrassing moments.
As writer Ali Montag says beautifully in this post, “So much of our culture—with shows like “The Bachelor” or “Love Island”—teaches us that the search for love is more important than the hard work of life in a relationship. We should hunt high and low for the perfect partner while casting aside anyone with blemishes.” But for her, she says, “I’m choosing to believe the commitment is the beginning. It’s where the story starts. We’ve barely scribbled out our prologue. Where will the story go from here?”
I love the idea that marriage is just beginning of a story, not the (happy) ending that we’ve all been conditioned to believe. That’s what love is all about.
Fun read:
I wrote a guest post for Sarah Miller’s newsletter, Can We Read? about my favorite middle grade novels. Please check it out. (Side note: Sarah’s newsletter is really, really great. She writes about children’s books and building a culture and habit around reading. Just subscribe, why don’t you?)
In case you missed it…
Question of the week:
What does love mean to you? Do you have any examples of people in your life who exemplify the kind of relationship that you idealize? Why or why not?
Simply because we don’t really have the time or resources for a full date. Babysitters + time off + energy = a lot. Mini-dates are short—typically one to two hour outings where we go get coffee or bubble tea and just talk. Much more efficient and cost-effective.
I don’t think I gained your wisdom about marriage at your age, Hoang, but, after almost 41 years of marriage, I do agree that friendship is the strongest basis for a lasting union. You and your husband seem to have it down. Since you’re a writer, I imagine there are many memorable days as well as forgettable ones!
"I love the idea that marriage is just beginning of a story" yes!
I met my wife when she was only 15, and I was 18. After a few years we married in 1971. I didn't believe in marriage so I always new that divorce was an option. Every day I ask myself, do I want to be married today? The answer so far, after more that 50 years, is YES! I love my wife with all my ... everything, soul, heart, mind, et al.
I don't know if I am going to be married in the future, but one thing I know: I love my marriage now.