We’ve all been married more times than we’d like to admit. I know I have. That’s the chief thing I have in common with King Henry VIII: too many wives. (Though I never chose execution over divorce.)
And though I’ve yet to experience the painless exit mentioned in the comic above, I can attest to the truth of it.
I’ve often questioned whether relationships are worth the aggravation and heartbreak they can bring. I’ve come to believe that they are, but learning how to achieve it can be a daunting odyssey.
Couples therapists wisely recommend being in a relationship for two or three years before deciding to marry. That’s because while nothing feels more euphoric and transcendent than falling in love, it also renders you the stupidest that you’ll ever be. Those two years give that toasted marshmallow explosion in your skull time to morph back into a working brain.
That advice comes from people who’ve made a career of listening to spouses complain about each other, often with tears, shouting, and gnashing of teeth. Trust them when they tell you not to rush into it.
I rushed into my first two marriages like I was saving children from a flaming orphanage, which would have been less dangerous than those marriages turned out to be.
In my profession as a cartoonist, those experiences and the resulting therapy, support groups, and excessive alcohol consumption produced dozens of comics on the topic that could be seen as a “how to” and “how not to” manual for marriage.
Once you’ve met your “soul mate,” when is it safe to consider taking that next step?
One sign that your infatuation idiocy is subsiding is when you begin to realize that the person you plan to chain yourself to for the foreseeable future (in marriage or in court) is not who you’ve been looking for all your life.
Spoiler alert: No one is that magical person, or ever will be.
That notion is an illusion brought about by oxytocin, a hormonal gimmick evolution snuck into our DNA to ensure the propagation of our species. If we could instantly see what our intended nooky partner will become in ten or fifteen years, there would be no babies. Oxytocin hides that reality from us like Loch Ness hides its monster.
The gloriously simple truth is, you’re the person you’ve been waiting for, but you may not even know what that means until you are at least middle-aged. I sure as hell didn’t.
Since that sentence won’t stop anyone from getting married too soon or too young, here are some red flags to watch for:
If your betrothed is shitty to servers, realize that you will eventually be the recipient of that same fecal tone.
If your partner criticizes people behind their backs in unkind ways, down the road, that’s how they’ll be talking to their friends about you. (As former friends of my ex-wives informed me.)
If your dream date begins suggesting ways you could improve yourself, you’re not a person they want as a life partner; you’re a lump of clay they think they can form into something useful.
If your intended domestic partner licks the faces of strangers or chases moving objects, you may be in love with a dog or a cat. Go with that. They are far less dangerous than humans and won’t live nearly as long.
Heeding these signs could prevent you from becoming another innocent victim of oxytocin.
Marriage can be an exciting, romantic act that requires a little bravery, but feels like the right thing to do. The same can be said of joining the military during wartime. In both scenarios, you could grow from the experience, have adventures that create cherished memories, or spend the rest of your life suffering from PTSD.
Here are some common missteps to avoid.
Having a super expensive, destination wedding will not make your marriage more successful. I’ve personally attended several of these, and the marriages lasted less time than an ice cream cone in the Sahara. In contrast, the ones I’ve attended in a friend’s backyard or a local park are still going strong.
Accordingly, I’ve adopted the following axiom:
The length of a marriage is inversely proportionate to the amount of money and planning that goes into the wedding.
Then there’s this:
Non-traditional couples often have non-traditional weddings. That’s fine, but it won’t help you avoid the traditional pitfalls of marriage. I know this from personal experience, as evidenced by the photo of my second wedding below.
Yes, we were married by an Elvis impersonator in Las Vegas. At the time, I thought that was edgy and cool. I now equate it with making it all the way to the Oscar podium on live TV before realizing I’d misheard the name of the winner. My Vegas marriage lasted no longer than one of Musk’s rocket launches, and eventually cost me almost as much money.
It is said that half of all marriages end in divorce; the other half end in sweatpants. Pray for the sweatpants. They’re cheaper and more comfortable.
Many couples split up as a result of unrealistic expectations, resisting the changes that naturally occur in people and relationships. Expecting domestic partnership to forever be as exciting as courting is a recipe for failure. You may have a magical honeymoon trip to Tahiti, but once you’re home, you can’t expect every trip to Walmart to be remotely as romantic. (Although they have very competitive prices on sweatpants.)
Accepting that romance fades doesn’t mean you’re not going to miss it, but without a pantry full of oxytocin inhalers, it is unrealistic to expect those crotch flames to last indefinitely.
Relationships are living things, and anything that doesn’t change is probably dead. For your marriage to last, it must grow and evolve into something new, and lingerie may be replaced with large elastic waistbands.
Speaking of unrealistic expectations:
Accepting your spouse’s shortcomings and limitations is essential. Whoever you choose, they’ll have plenty, as will you, and each of you will think the other has more than you do. And you’ll both be wrong.
With those hard truths behind us, let’s talk about the plus side: Not all marriages start like a fairy tale and end like a Stephen King novel.
Though that perfectly describes my first two marriages, my third (current, and final) marriage has been more like Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha, and I’m not just saying that because my wife reads my articles.
Despite our resemblance to a frog and a princess, our marriage is not a fairy tale, but it has improved both of our lives. And though we have experienced a few Stephen King chapters from time to time, we’ve escaped the Overlook Hotel without busting through any locked doors with an axe.
More often than not, it has been an absolute joy.
Unfortunately, I don’t have any comics to illustrate a good marriage.
Comedy is forged from conflict and foibles much more often than from bliss, and so are meaningful, long-term relationships. Perhaps humor’s greatest power is its ability to highlight our foolish behavior and allow us to learn from it in a chuckly way.
The wonderful, boring truth: My current wife and I love and respect each other, give one another permission to be who we are, and exercise mutual tolerance for our imperfections. She even understands that my cynical cartoons about marriage are mostly about myself and are an attempt to improve my relationship skills.
As rough as the road was in my youth, I consider all my marriages to have been well worth the effort if not the expense. Even the disastrous ones taught me much about myself I’d never have learned as a lifelong bachelor.
Domestic partnership can be tremendously rewarding, but it’s best to know what you’re getting into as your romantic swan boat floats down that tunnel of love. Take my advice: Wear a life jacket, maybe a helmet, and keep some oxytocin handy.
If you’re lucky, there may be some sweatpants in your future.
More of my comics: Bizarro.com/blog
My graphic novel in progress: PeyoteCowboy.net
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