Nestled in the charming riverfront town of Wilmington, North Carolina, we find ourselves in a picturesque Southern setting that is both historical and vibrant. With breathtaking views of the Cape Fear River, beaches within walking distance, and a lively nightlife, our community is a hotspot for weddings. Riverboats host dance parties featuring brides twirling in white gowns, and we often encounter groups of revelers celebrating in their designer dresses and ballet flats.
A couple of weekends ago, my husband and I were relaxing outside with our boys, enjoying a cold beer at a local brewery, when a lively group of wedding guests arrived. They were animatedly discussing the ceremony’s start time and their next destination. Full of youth and charm, they reminded me of a time in my life not so long ago.
I turned to my husband and asked, “Do you recall when we had a wedding every weekend? Do you remember the excitement of those days?” We exchanged a gentle touch before our 3-year-old attempted to throw a rock into the street.
Fast forward to the following weekend, where I spent two days with friends, engaging in deep and meaningful conversations. I relished these connections; it was a gift to witness their lives unfold. However, amid the warmth, a sense of sadness lingered. The recurring topic throughout our discussions was divorce.
Many of my friends shared similar sentiments, and honestly, their words began to resonate uncomfortably within me. It became clear that as women, we find ourselves in a state of flux.
We’ve transitioned from carefree weekends immersed in coupledom to grappling with the weighty questions of our identities and the state of our marriages. At this stage of life, many of us are confronting two pivotal questions: 1) Would I find greater happiness outside of this marriage? and 2) Am I demonstrating a healthy relationship to my child(ren)?
Fear and confusion are prevalent.
Marriage feels burdensome at this point in our lives. We stand at a crossroads, envisioning a future while desperately clinging to the past. The memories of previous mistakes and hurtful words still haunt us, yet we dream of a hopeful future filled with exotic vacations and the life we’ve always desired. As we approach what should be the golden years, the freedom we crave seems tantalizingly close, yet we struggle to find time for even the simplest activities, like finishing a book.
With each year of motherhood, we evolve, gaining confidence in ourselves, yet we long for reassurance—someone to embrace us and affirm, “You are wonderful. I love you dearly. You don’t need to change. You are perfect just as you are.”
Currently, our lives are anything but carefree; they are filled with school drop-offs, pickups, team practices, schedules, and the endless demands of parenting. In those mundane moments, we yearn for our partners to inject some joy into our lives.
The transitions we face are exhausting. Each day brings new emotional demands, lessons to teach, and minor injuries to bandage. We crave intimacy and desire, but often find ourselves carrying muddy children indoors or wiping noses with our sleeves.
Life is undeniably challenging right now. It is beautiful—an incredible journey—but it is also messy. In the midst of this chaos, our marriages can be overlooked, sometimes even at risk of being swept away.
Transitions are inherently tough, especially in parenting. Moving from the sleepless nights of infancy to the newfound freedoms of preschool and early elementary years presents its own challenges. Parenting is a constant evolution.
What I’ve come to understand is that marriage requires work from both partners. At times, it mirrors the care needed for a newborn; it demands nurturing, attention, and the willingness to deal with its messes, all while maintaining a sense of peace even when we feel drained.
Like nurturing a child, marriage calls for commitment. It requires us to persevere through difficult times, trusting that the journey will deepen and strengthen our bond.
I wish the men in our lives could fully grasp this reality. I often wish there was a way for them to feel the changes we experience internally—the transformations that are often difficult to articulate. Sometimes, I feel the urge to shake them and say, “Just show us more affection, help out with dinner occasionally, and most importantly, love us. Show genuine interest in our lives and simply love us.”
For my friends, the path forward isn’t clear. Unless there is abuse or infidelity involved, it’s challenging to know when it’s time to part ways. Just like the riverboats that glide along the surface, seemingly perfect unions can hide murky waters beneath.
I recognize that I am in a loving partnership where both of us are committed, yet even that can feel heavy. However, my marriage also brings me joy and a sense of accomplishment in navigating life’s challenges, despite society’s perception of marriage as disposable.
I intend to embrace the transitions, nurture our union, and see where this journey takes us as we approach our golden years. I want to remind our husbands to treat marriage with the same care and affection as their children.
This article was originally published on October 14, 2014.