Curiosity Over Endurance: Notes On 15 Years Together.

Today marks eight years married, which I suppose is nice. It does serve the purpose of remembering our best friend's birthday, not coincidentally on the same day.

Yes eight years is nice, but it’s the 15 years together that really means more.

In a classic small town romance story, we have known each other since childhood. But we were 21 and 22 when we finally got together. I stress ‘finally’ because at the time, we were conscious that this would likely be a bloody big relationship, and we felt adult enough for that.

But really, we were babies fresh from the womb. Technically men are adults at 21, but in reality? big toddlers at the pub.

Since then, we’ve moved interstate, had three children and somehow managed the ongoing task of figuring out who we are as individuals, as parents and as a couple.

In a statement that will shock no one, becoming parents has been the biggest identity shift of all.

Priorities change overnight. Longstanding independence morphs into dependence. And even if you’ve had the foresight to execute a plan around financial stability and career security, it still shakes you to the pelvic floor.

As toddlers at the pub, we didn’t. No planning, no maternity leave, no ducks in a row- just diving headfirst into the deep end.

Over the last 15 years, we’ve gone from children to adults, adults to parents and then slowly back to integrating our updated identities.

Through the lens of our new context, we critically analyse what part of us we keep and what now feels a little outdated.

I make this sound conscious and graceful when really it’s been sometimes murky, confusing and uncomfortable. The biggest task, I think, has been learning not just to keep up with our own metamorphosis, but to keep understanding our partners as well.

Today I’ve spent some time thinking about the cliches often piffed out in the discussion of anniversaries and the longevity of relationships.

“You’d get less for murder”

“happy wife happy life”

really do hit a nerve.

Even when they’re delivered tongue-in-cheek, the subtext is grim and says a lot about how we view relationships. Besides the problematic nod to domestic violence, both of these statements suggest relationships are a punishment to be endured. It assumes partnership as a sentence, something to grit your teeth through rather than a place where you can keep learning, keep discovering, and keep choosing.

I think assuming we know everything there is to know about each other robs us of the capacity to enjoy long-term partnership, to keep feeling joy and curiosity about the person you first fell in lust with.

You were drawn to learn more about this person in the beginning, there was something that intoxicated your intrigue. Why would we ever stop being curious?

(Important note: I don’t believe all relationships are meant to last. Some come to a natural end, and some should end when they are unsafe. Endurance is never the goal.)

I’m not preaching a perfect relationship here. We have our bumps and trials but one of the most valuable things we have done is couples counselling.

Not because we are or were falling apart or failing but because we need maintenance.

It gives us carved out time with a neutral guide to learn how to communicate in ways that don’t just recycle our childhood triggers. We were worn out by the exhausting loops our communication kept falling into.

If I regret anything, it's that we didn't start sooner.

Fifteen years in, I know long-term relationships are sometimes hard and confronting work.

But they don’t thrive on endurance.

They thrive on curiosity, on maintenance, and on willingness to both flourish individually and alongside one another.

Happy Wife, Happy Life? NOPE!

Curiosity Over Endurance: Notes On 15 Years Together.

Grief Outside the Container.