During a break at work, I came across a thought-provoking article by Ada Calhoun in the New York Times. She explored the transformations that couples experience over time, arguing that while we often expect our partners to remain constant, change is inevitable and must be embraced.
One particular line struck me: “Several long-married individuals have remarked: ‘I’ve had at least three marriages, all with the same person.’” Reflecting on my journey with Jamie, I realize we’ve navigated at least three distinct phases together: our carefree twenties, family-focused thirties, and now, grounded forties.
When Jamie and I first tied the knot, we were vastly different individuals. Thirteen years, three kids, and multiple college degrees have reshaped us. At 21, I didn’t know how to type, hadn’t read a single novel, and my aspirations revolved around cycling and tattoos. Fast forward to today, and I hold a graduate degree, work at a university, have recently secured a book deal, and drive a minivan—complete with a wardrobe of cargo shorts and work polos. Jamie often jokes that if my younger self met my current self, the younger version would probably throw a punch.
Jamie has undergone her own transformation. When we met, she had just completed her associate’s degree and was eager to start a family. Now, she possesses a bachelor’s degree, works at an elementary school, and has adopted a vegetarian lifestyle.
We’ve definitely grown together. Our styles have aligned; we both sport similar oversized glasses and enjoy the same romantic comedies. Yet, the evolution from our twenties to our thirties has been marked by various phases, and it wasn’t until reading Calhoun’s words that I truly reflected on this dynamic.
Our transitions mirrored those described by Calhoun, albeit sometimes in a staggered manner. Initially, I found myself in the socializing phase while Jamie was ready to settle down. This discrepancy led to numerous squabbles about my outings with friends and attending concerts instead of focusing on family responsibilities.
Eventually, as I began to stabilize, I entered the “finish college” phase, while Jamie was all about being present for our kids. Now, we are both in the “owning a home and prioritizing our children” stage.
These shifts have brought their fair share of challenges and disagreements, but they’ve also helped us find ways to coexist happily. What fascinates me most is how unexpected these changes were; I don’t think many couples anticipate them.
I once heard a TED Talk by Dan Gilbert, where he asked individuals to envision their lives in a decade. His findings revealed that people often presume their current friendships and interests will remain unchanged ten years later, yet those who have aged often reflect on how much has altered. He concluded that “time is a powerful force,” shaping our preferences, values, and personalities while we only recognize this in hindsight.
This phenomenon is a common struggle in marriage. When I wed Jamie, I naturally assumed we’d be relatively unchanged over the years, with similar friends and interests. While I anticipated some physical changes—our looks and fashion sense shifting—I mistakenly thought our core values and thoughts would remain intact.
Looking back, my priorities have shifted significantly. My interest in tattoos has dwindled, replaced by the imperative of managing a mortgage. Attending every punk concert has given way to prioritizing my son’s soccer practice instead. The notion that your spouse will remain a constant is misleading; it can be detrimental to the foundation of early marriage.
I used to quip to friends that envisioning a long-term commitment meant picturing your partner with gray hair and extra weight. However, after more than a decade of marriage, I can confidently say it’s far more intricate than that. It involves envisioning your partner embracing new hobbies, changing beliefs, or pursuing unexpected paths, and loving them through it all.
When I got married, I received plenty of advice, mostly about compromise and communication. I wish someone had emphasized that change is not just normal but essential for growth. I may have married Jamie three times, but that’s both typical and vital for our development.
Dan Gilbert concluded his talk with a powerful statement: “Human beings are works in progress that mistakenly think they’re finished.” This truth resonates deeply in relationships.
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In summary, marriage is a journey of transformation where both partners evolve. Change is not just inevitable; it’s essential for growth and understanding in a relationship.