Dad, how have you stayed married for 40 years?
Letter #45
“How do you get someone to wake up?” I asked my wife.
It was 8 PM at our Airbnb in Valle de Bravo. We’d been in the hot tub for an hour, staring at the beautiful panoramic view of the lake. Wine may or may not have been involved—but not too much.
It felt…great. Just relaxing. Talking about stuff that matters to us.
I asked her about getting someone to “wake up.” I wasn’t talking about sleeping in—I was talking about getting someone to REALLY consider another point of view.
These are the kinds of conversations my wife and I have a lot of.
Look, growing up is terrifying. Nobody talks about it, but it is. You get released into the “real world” only to find out that it’s a complete shit show. You exit adolescence only to realize that every adult who’s honest with themselves feels alone, and terrified, way more often than they let on.
The biggest source of catharsis in my marriage has been these quiet moments when my wife and I are completely honest about these feelings.
You hide these feelings—suppress them—by watching dumb TV shows or playing video games, but the underlying terror doesn’t go away.
Talking about them with my wife, though—head on—really helps. It almost makes it okay.
I guess when you’re young, your parents shield you from that terror. When you’re older, all you can do is be honest about it. And you can’t really be honest about it at dinner parties, right?
“Hey, so, any of y’all think about death a lot?”
Yeah, no. These conversations are saved for the most important people in our lives—our spouses, our dearest friends, or perhaps our parents/siblings. Maybe a therapist. Only these people will do, though.
I think you can’t truly know someone until you know their deepest fears.
It’s these quiet, beautiful moments that help me realize how much I take my wife for granted sometimes.
It got me thinking…
Look. I know that AI is eventually going to turn on the human race and lead to “Judgement Day,” but last weekend ChatGPT gave me an incredible answer to a big question..
I asked it:
“What do older couples say they regret doing in the first years of their marriage or not doing enough of?”
Oh Dad, what a treasure trove of information it gave me.
Here’s a few of the responses..
Not communicating openly enough
Taking each other for granted
Not setting boundaries with in-laws
Not investing in shared experiences
Expecting the other person to stay the same
Letting conflict fester
Losing themselves (giving up hobbies, passions, friendships to become “the perfect spouse”)
Not getting help sooner (therapy, etc.)
This is perfect timing. Next Sunday, when you’re scheduled to respond to this letter, it will be my second wedding anniversary with Dalia.
Here’s a picture Mom took of us talking at Teotihuacán in 2022.
Last weekend as we sat on a bus to Valle de Bravo, our favorite small town here in Mexico, I thought to myself..
“My wife and I will never be younger than we are right now.”
We got married two years ago. We had you all here for the wedding. It was wonderful. Stressful, but wonderful. Elijah, my nephew, was a newborn. Same with my other nephew, Leo. Now they’re bouncing around, and testing the limits of their vocal chords.
My wife and I are two years older.
Sometimes I look back and think… What have we done these last two years? We went to the United States, and Orizaba, and we’ve traveled a little, but we have a surprising shortage of photos from 2024 in my camera roll. It’s like the whole past year never happened.
Between this realization, and our conversation in the hot tub, I’ve become hyper aware of the impermanence of our youth. Normally I’m VERY aware of that on an individual level (trust me!), but on a relationship level? I never thought of it. I never thought about the regrets I might have as a spouse when I get older.
And that’s where you come in, Dad (and Mom, perhaps).
My parents have been married for (almost) 40 years, readers. It will be 40 years in a few months. It’s crazy to think about.
Growing up, what I remember most about seeing them interact with each other was that they were best friends. They laughed together, and joked around, and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. We took a trip together last September to the beach, and I was shocked at how much they spoke to one another in the 8 hour car ride—even after 39 years of marriage!!
They just..genuinely have so much to discuss, it seems. They really do like being around each other. It was a real blessing to see that as a boy.
Around 25% of marriages reach 30 years, and about 20% hit 40 years or more.
Yes, I looked that up. My parents are part of that 20 percent.
Back in 2023, my best friend Steve was here for my wedding. His Father called, and Steve put him on speaker. I asked his Father for marriage advice, and said “You got to learn to accept everything about your partner—the good and the bad.”
I found that advice VERY insightful.
These are the unsexy-but-true “truths” about marriage. We love to think it’s butterflies and rainbows and unending confessions of love from characters like Mr. Darcy who just walked through the morning mist in a trench coat to profess his love.
If you know, you know.
In reality, there’s conflict, and baggage, and lots of uncomfortable stuff.
Speaking of masculinity and bravery, you got to be brave to talk about your fears and insecurities with your partner. We can argue whether a man is “supposed” to be all “showy” with his emotions or whether he needs to be a frozen popsicle with a stick up his ass to feign stability for his family (at great cost to him, which, by extension, can’t be great for his family!).
Of the 8 “regrets” ChatGPT wrote for me up above, two of them relate to this:
Not communicating openly enough
Letting conflict fester
You got to be brave to communicate openly. You got to be brave to enter into conflict, knowing it will help the relationship long-term.
At least, that’s what I’ve learned.
So I turn it over to you, Dad. What relationship advice do you have for me? And Mom, too. If she wants to write some stuff up, that’s great. I want to know..
And I’m sure many in our reading family will love to hear it, too.
Thanks Dad (and Mom, possibly?)