A letter to my married clients who are struggling

Dear Jane and Joe,

I was working late last night and your question, Jane, “Are any couples actually really HAPPY?” was rumbling around in my head and so this morning, I wrote some things: 

As I said yesterday, yes, there are some blissfully happy folks out there, and of the abuse-free variety, where everyone is relatively safe (no one should have to stay where it is not safe from abuse), there lies a sea of folks who are reasonably happy with no grounds to disrupt the marriage and leave, but also not the most satisfied they can be. Of course, at the far other end of the spectrum are some positively miserable ones, too. 

We know that you two do a lot of the right things together that we look at to see if a relationship is set to survive; you respect one another, you accept influence from one another, you communicate openly and generously. You share values and morals. Your relationship is not being circled by any of what the Gottman folks call “the four horsemen of the apocalypse” (criticism, contempt, stonewalling and defensiveness). There is nothing wrong here, and perhaps nothing to fix; as you are residing in that middle area. 

It’s still absolutely your choice. Should you choose to dissolve this agreement, then after some time and some grief, I know this to be true with certainty that you will both be okay. You will thrive and move on with your lives and forge some sort of relationship forward with one another. 

And if you stay, here’s what I would tell you from the inside of my own experience in that middle area. When couples are not-unhappy-enough-to-go but fine-to-stay, it is often because they have the Big Agenda in mind and faith in what I call the We’ll Be Okay.

The Big Agenda is the thing you are building together, within the safe container of marriage, in which friendship is foundational, and more a part of marriage than anyone tells us going in.

The We’ll Be Okay is the thing you get to both hold onto as you agree to not sweat the small things. It’s the assurance one will offer the other, as the world crumbles at times: “We’ll be okay.” It’s usually true in the end. 

I may have shared that I am in my second marriage. The first was probably an error. My husband and I were deliciously compatible, a wicked team, and just wildly…platonic.  Though he has passed away, he will always be one of my very best friends in the whole world and I would have always loved him and cared about what happened to him. 

My second marriage was like finding the most perfectly worn-in jeans at a thrift store. He was familiar in a way I couldn’t explain, we just fit. The first time he came to my home, it felt like he had always been there, and I remember a little voice in my body said “Oh, there you are! I’ve been looking for you” when we met. There have been rolling hills that we have ridden together that were really hard, and not any were “fixable” things, they were me asking about my place in my career and education, adjusting to parenthood, and most recently, feeling the full expression of my rage at a life laid on me by the patriarchy and capitalism. Sometimes, no one is the “other,” no one is doing anything wrong that they can be blamed for, sometimes we’re just growing and our partner becomes a witness and a person who has to hold up our edges for us. 

 My partner and I quickly and emphatically dismiss any sort of notion that we will not be together someday, and not because it’s wild and blissful and perfect, because it is not, but because we have decided that and know that we have chosen the place where we can both grow and be honest, and support each other even as individuals, even when we feel very far apart with what we are learning, choosing, and evolving through. 

There’s a nuance to the staying-no-matter what narrative; we have surrendered to the seasons we find ourselves in and a small part of each of us has committed to whatever we will be called to do for ourselves, each other, our family, and our team. 

I have seen couples at all stages of life together. Older couples, in their 70s and 80s are cozy old companions, like soft and warn pajamas. The intimacy has faded into something soft and abiding, even if not riotous and of the swinging-from-the-lights variety. They take care of each other and know each other deeply and it’s actually quite simple. It’s a promise to witness, and support and to show up. 

Couples in the throes of new parenthood are in it in different ways; in the trenches together with a small camp of terrorists that they create, ideally with a vision in mind and a shared goal, holding hope that some recognizable normal will return as the children age. 

With all couples, it’s perhaps important to remember that love is a feeling and also a verb; we can DO love even when we don’t always feel it. Doing, in fact, can inform feeling. 

As well, marriage is a container. It’s an arena in which to grow, and play, and learn, and yes, hurt and grieve, too. When we are in it, we agree to hold the edges of that container for ourselves, and our partners as if it’s a roadmap you will always come back to. 

Sometimes this will look wholly separate. We tether ourselves to what is true and what is solid and we come back to it, but it can very much, at times, look like a home with caring roommates, and at other times like newlyweds have moved in. There can be room for both in the evolution.

I will not make up that this will be of help, but as I unpacked my own relationships and the ones I have observed, it occurred to me that real marriage is the digging in, bone deep, to the presence, the witnessing, the faith in what you are building and life you hold will unfold, with a foundation of deep, abiding generosity and friendship. This world is not at all pleasant to live in, some days. I find it rather unbearable, myself, and to have someone who holds the container for me and is a warm body and a cheering section, is invaluable, even with a list of what isn’t meeting my needs as I find ways to get them met that honour this agreement we have made. We both just know We’ll Be Okay, and say it, bravely, for each other. 

Ahhh, so much more than I thought I would say. I will leave you with this and look forward to your thoughts when we see each other in a couple of weeks. 

Blessings to you both,

Tara