What happened when I pretended my marriage was the best ever (and how it got there)

“WHAT IF I JUST PRETEND WE HAVE THE BEST MARRIAGE EVER?”

“What if I just pretend we have the best marriage ever?” I asked my husband one day. We’ve had our ups and downs, but it was a mostly serious question.

And then I had this weird realization that we might already be, but were pretending that we didn’t. Like maybe we were letting silly human challenges (like growth, learning, and parenting) take the focus instead of a great marriage that’s waiting to bloom.

What could it hurt to think in a different way? I was DONE with fighting over stupid stuff. I was DONE with feeling like the man who was supposed to be my partner didn’t even like me. I was DONE with feeling like a complete failure. I was DONE with looking with regret at my wedding ring.

I’m typing now with a smile as I remember when I ended up secretly experimenting with this. I was close to giving up hope, but I was SURE there must be a way to love this seemingly difficult man. There HAD to be, because we made this sweet little baby together, and I was determined to stay together! Assuming we could somehow transform our marriage into one I enjoyed

My secret experiment was founded on the hope that I could act “as if” our marriage was amazing until reality changed. So I pretended our marriage was already there.(One that’s strong, loving, faithful, quite pleasant, and dare I say even delicious. With two equals happily co-habitating and sharing life. Who would renew those vows any day of the year.)

Many times a day, I asked myself, “What would I do if we had the best marriage ever?”

I asked myself before he came home from work to greet him. This was a stretch for me. I’d stop working before he arrived, freshen up a bit, and greet him with a yummy kiss and my full attention.

I asked myself when planning dinner. I’d think about us both, what he loved AND what I loved.

I asked myself when deciding if I wanted sex. And what that would look like.

I asked myself when deciding what to tell him. Did I really need to vent to him about anything? Nope. Did it really matter if he put the toilet lid down? Not really. Did it really matter if he left a mess in the kitchen? Nah. It turns out not that much really matters in the day-to-day stuff.

I will never forget how surprised he looked when I was happy to see him.

I will never forget how many times he apologized for being a “back seat driver” because he was scared it would annoy me. Then the surprise that I never got annoyed. (Not anymore, not in “the best marriage ever”! I just smiled and adjusted my driving per his requests. Slowed down. Then sped up. Then slowed down. Then sped up. I’m not even joking. I just shrugged and went with it. Because, really, who cares?)

I will never forget how the spot between his eyebrows suddenly softened, and so did the way he looked at me.

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