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Confessions of a married woman

This morning on the radio, a man proposed to his girlfriend over the phone, while her coworkers listened in. After she said yes and her boss gave her the day off (and I vomited a little in my mouth), the man kept repeating: "I love you so much." "You make me so happy." "I want to be happy with you forever." Then the radio announcer played Ed Sheeran. Fairytale.


I had to change the channel and fight the tears of rage.

As someone who has been married almost 8 years, I can tell you with certainty, marriage is not a vehicle for happiness. Marriage is a commitment. It is an institution centered on stability. It is about family and security. Passionate love, delirious giddiness, and profound connection are more often the stuff of those prior relationships we can't quite seem to get out of our heads, that would never have materialized into marriage. That's not necessarily good, not necessarily bad. There is a place for everything.

However, I find the expectations people enter into marriage with often end up being the downfall of the relationship. Marriage is more akin to a deep friendship, where comfort is king, helping each other is crucial, and joint projects keep you close even when you'd sometimes appreciate a bit of distance.

I don't mean to be a pessimist on Valentine's Day, but I also know first hand how the delusion of everlasting love and happiness can make you miserable. Love is an action word. It is things you do to show kindness, caring, and it's most of all about how you treat yourself. I'm not hating on Valentine's Day, or love. I'm glad we have a day on which we celebrate love. I am simply saying the pursuit of marriage, while noble, is overemphasized and over-glamorized as it pertains to love and happiness.

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