In case you haven’t heard, marriage is hard, man.
You go in all innocent and rosy-cheeked and skipping and a year later, there you are, worn down on the front stoop, your hair unwashed, eating Doritos by the handful as you stare blankly into space.
At the same time, all of the researchers explain that people have the wrong ideas about marriage. The problem is that we have this mold in the shape of a fairytale, and we’re all trying to cram our sloppy, oozy lives into it, but there’s always some spilling out the sides, getting everything sticky. We have this image of happily ever stuck in our heads.
In a time when divorce rates are sky high, peaking at a new high each year, the topic of marriage has become one of real doom and gloom. Kate Fridkis goes on to write her take on this, saying that she’s decided not to listen to the hoopla and naysayers. What’s that saying about haters gonna hate? Fridkis is refusing to let that negativity and hatred poison her marriage.
I find myself in a similar position as she is: turning the corner on year three of my marriage, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “It sounds like we just haven’t hit the hard parts yet,” writes Fridkis. Word.
At its best, marriage is hilarious inside jokes, great sex, and unconditional love. But it can also be trying, frustrating, and even lonely.
The key? Finding one that works for you and forgetting about what society/the media/your family and friends say you should have. And lots of work. That’s right–the dreaded “W” word. Good things don’t happen over night, and they don’t last without some elbow grease. Jason and I have not been married for aeons, but I can tell you the secret that’s held us together for almost 7.5 years: we’re weird as hell, and we don’t give a rip what anyone else thinks about it.
That’s the glue that holds us together through the bad times and makes the good times that much better. It’s what makes us US. When life starts piling on responsibilities, the mundane everyday sludge, and the big turds that sometimes drop, it’s easy to forget to apply that glue (or even that the glue exists in the first place). You have to make your glue–whatever it is–a priority.
Will shit still happen? Maybe. Even the strongest of glues sometimes fail. But you have a choice–the same choice Fridkis made: “I’m going to keep being happy about… our marriage, like a little dork who doesn’t know what’s gonna hit her, and I will just keep on doing that for as long as I possibly can…”