20 Things I've Learned from 20 Years of Marriage
hard-won lessons on love, friendship, and king-sized beds
To celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary, my husband, Jim, and I booked a romantic getaway to a luxury hotel. We spent months looking forward to a winter fantasia of crackling fireplaces, cozy meals, and indulgent spa treatments.
To our delight, two hours into our drive, snow began to fall. But within minutes, it turned from gentle, charming, romcom snow to the menacing, white-knuckle-the-steering-wheel, disaster movie kind. When the car behind us jackknifed, we pulled off at the nearest town to wait it out.
The snow did not abate. Our plans were ruined. We would be spending the night at a roadside motel: the kind with thin walls, elevator muzak, and “dinner” from a vending machine.
Reader, it ended up being one of the best nights we’ve had together.
The only restaurant within walking distance just happened to serve extraordinary food in a repurposed mid-century library. We watched the snow pile up outside, and we couldn’t stop talking. We talked about the jackknifed car. We talked about the food. We talked about our hopes and dreams. We talked about nothing and everything.
Our evening illustrated what I’ve come to believe is the secret to a happy marriage: you must be “in like” with each other.
Yes, it’s the least sexy marriage advice ever given: right up there with “communication is key” and “never go to bed angry.” But it’s true. Marriage, as everyone who’s attempted it knows, is rife with the unexpected: detours, curveballs, great joy, and excruciating pain. Having a best friend for comfort and counsel throughout it all is both ballast and balm.
It may be that I’m predisposed to believe friendship is the secret to marriage because I’m not a particularly romantic person: my children (and Jim) regularly bemoan my lack of nostalgia and penchant for decluttering. But I love being a member of such a romantic species: against all logic, we humans are committed to the impossible ideal of loving (and living with) another person for a lifetime.
My 20-year marriage is one of the things I’m most proud of: it’s made me a better person in innumerable ways and resulted in the kind of family I dreamt of as a child.
It’s also the thing I’m most afraid of writing about.
I write lists of advice for a living, but I’m superstitious about this. What if putting what I’ve learned in print jinxes us? What if, this time next year, I’m famously that person who wrote an essay on marriage advice and then got divorced?
Because the truth is, while I’ve learned a few things during two decades of marriage, I still don’t understand the alchemy of it.
Believing in marriage is like believing in religion or democracy: it’s a lofty goal fueled by stamina and commonly held beliefs. It’s a miracle to intimately know each other’s faults and to choose, over and over again, to accept them and stay anyway.
I am astonished and beyond grateful that Jim has chosen to remain married to me. Figuring out, together, how to be happily married is one of the greatest honors of my life.
Here’s what I’ve learned so far…
Never settle. Embarking on marriage is an impossible thing. To give it the best chance of success, you must not rush into it, or “settle” for someone about whom you have even tiny misgivings. By my late twenties, after several serious relationships, I’d learned to never ignore what I privately dubbed the “Not Quite Right” feeling—the one that popped up when someone seemed “great on paper,” but things didn’t feel right, no matter how much I wanted them to.
Being “in like” is more important than being in love. My parents had a rocky marriage, and my sister and I grew up watching them fight; we internalized the idea that being married meant being at war. After meeting Jim for the first time, my sister turned to me and said, with a shocked amazement I immediately recognized, “You and Jim really like each other.” When a marriage (mostly) feels like a friendship based on mutual appreciation, common goals, and shared interests, life’s inevitable slings and arrows are more manageable.
You must be equally committed to the project. Even in happy marriages, some problems feel insurmountable. To stick with someone through hard times, you both must believe the work is worth it. To be clear, I don’t believe anyone should stay in a desperately unhappy or abusive marriage: as a child, I wished my parents would separate instead of fighting constantly.
You can never have too many bathrooms. No explanation needed…
Respect (and kindness) is the cornerstone of healthy relationships. When my parents said cruel things to each other, I felt unsafe because the foundation of our family—their relationship—seemed unstable. I knew that if I wanted a happy family, I would need to marry someone I loved, but more importantly, someone whom I respected and admired. My parents were locked in an unhealthy cycle, exhibiting what marriage expert John Gottman calls the Four Horsemen of communication styles: criticism, contempt, defensiveness, and stonewalling. Moreover, of the Four Horsemen, contempt, or lack of respect, is the number one predictor of divorce.
Easy times go fast, and hard times go slow. During difficult periods in our marriage, time has slowed to a drip as we painstakingly work through grievances, disagreements, and misunderstandings. Patience and fortitude are required. One thing that’s helped: filling our home with mementoes of happy moments and milestones. Among the items we have displayed are our wedding invitation and photos, special-occasion menus, speeches, thank-you notes, and New Yorker cartoons.
Marriage is a classroom. Two decades of cohabiting and compromising have taught me more about myself, relationships, and the quirks of human nature than anything else I’ve done. I am better (not perfect) at listening, expressing my emotions, and being vulnerable. I like to think Jim’s learned a few things from me, too. The bonus: I hope to stay married for many more years, and look forward to continuing to grow.
Cultivate admiration. It’s easy, as the years go on, to view your spouse primarily as a sous chef, grocery shopper, or bill-payer. One of my favorite habits is spotting Jim across a room at a party and falling in love all over again with the handsome, fun-loving, charismatic guy who’s always at the center of the group of people laughing the loudest.
A king-sized bed is always a good idea. If your marriage, like ours, includes snoring, sickness, kids, and pets, you want the largest bed you can get!
Be a cheerleader. Long relationships, particularly for parents, can become rife with petty competitiveness and scorekeeping: “I spend more time with the baby”; “You never take out the trash.” This tendency is poisonous. When our marriage is humming along, we’re operating as a team whose mutual goal is to bring out the best in each other. Nothing feels better than knowing your spouse is your loudest, proudest cheerleader.
Expensive gifts aren’t required. While I love my diamond engagement ring and got caught up in the trend of “push presents” when my children were born, the “gifts” I treasure most are memories. The trips Jim and I have taken to celebrate our birthdays and anniversaries, and the speeches he gave at my 40th and 50th birthday celebrations, are things I love to reminisce about. It’s easy to buy jewelry, but much more rewarding to spend time together.
Have shared interests beyond your kids. Hands-on parenting provides much to discuss, and much to do, for many years—and then, like a bomb going off in reverse, the kids move out, leaving an empty house, fridge, and calendar in their wake. During the busy parenting years, our shared hobbies (traveling, entertaining, admiring our dog, and racquet sports) have been a welcome respite from logistics and screen time debates. Now, with our children almost gone, it’s a delight to have more time for our favorite pursuits.
Vulnerability is non-negotiable. The biggest crisis in our marriage was caused by my inability to clearly state what I felt and wanted. Even after many years, I was afraid to be truly vulnerable with Jim—the only person in the world who had publicly vowed to stick with me through thick and thin. Vulnerability is incredibly difficult, particularly for people with traumatic experiences and men, who are often raised to project strength. Keeping your desires secret, even when they seem unreasonable or irrational, causes more trouble in the long run. This is one of the great privileges of marriage: the ability to confide your deepest fears and desires to someone who is contractually obligated to listen.
Help really helps. The idea that two people can manage a marriage, family, and household without assistance from family or others is dangerous and untrue. We have benefited greatly from couples therapy when we couldn’t see eye to eye, as well as babysitting and tutoring during the intensive parenting years.
You never know what’s going on inside someone else’s marriage. It’s tempting to dissect others’ marriages and judge behaviors or decisions, but the longer we’ve been married, the more Jim and I understand that the important thing is to focus on our own relationship and what works for us.
You are responsible for your own emotional health. It’s lovely to have a partner for life, but you cannot expect one person to be your therapist, lover, and co-parent. Separately working with therapists to understand our triggers, trauma, and tendencies has been a game-changer that has allowed us to understand ourselves and each other better.
Communicating well is an art and a practice. I’m naturally direct, which can come across as harsh, particularly in fraught moments. I’m also quick to provide solutions without being asked. Learning to listen carefully, not interrupt, and not immediately apply my own interpretation to what Jim is saying is an ongoing effort. Unsurprisingly, as a writer, I’ve found that when I have something difficult to say, it’s best for me to put it on paper first.
Agree on the big picture. Jim and I don’t agree on everything, but we agree on the things most important to us: our beliefs about who we want to raise our children to be, and what makes a worthwhile life. When we disagree on the details, whether it’s about money, discipline, or politics, it’s reassuring to know we’re both working toward the same big goals.
Celebrate your differences. Differing approaches can create conflict, but the trick is to view your partner’s idiosyncrasies as unique, complementary strengths. Jim’s endless patience for playing games with the kids allowed me to focus on what I do best: logistics and organization. My openness to travel and change has (I like to think) tempered his naturally risk-averse nature, while his deliberate decision-making has taught me to slow down and consider all angles.
Romantic love endures. It’s a miracle I don’t understand but am grateful for: it is possible to remain in love with, and attracted to, the same person for decades, even as wrinkles appear, hair thins, and quirks become entrenched. Ever since the first night we met, Jim has been the only one for me. I still think he’s the most handsome, appealing guy in any room. And we’ve been in rooms with Jon Hamm and Paul Rudd!
One thing I know for sure is that marriage will continue to teach me lessons for the rest of my life. What would you add to this list? Is there anything you wish someone had told you before you got married? I'd love to know!
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Congratulations on your 20. My wife and I have been married for 65 yrs and were friends three years before we dated. She is still my best friend. That’s the foundation. Never stop talking about everything is the entertainment and learning to “let go” is a must. It’s the glue.Hanging on to expectations causes more suffering, just be kind and let life happen. It’s going to anyway!
Happy anniversary! Going on 18 years here and I agree with every sentiment, but the point about admiration really spoke to me. Even after all these years, I still think my husband is the coolest guy I know. I mean, I'm still regularly annoyed by him and know his failings as well as he knows mine, but seeing him in action at a party, or closing a big sale at work, or navigating a problem for our family - WEAK IN THE KNEES I tell you! I lot of the honeymoon stuff falls away, but if you can be yourself so completely in a relationship, you'll stay interesting to each other and that is a secure road to longevity.
I'm rambling, but man, I love love :)