Marriage
Is a
Multiplex
96. My marriage is like a multiplex. A theater with many screens, playing a romance, a drama, a period piece, and something directed by Jordan Peele, where you’re not sure whether to laugh or cry. Of course, when we were starting out, it was rom-com bliss all day every day.
Keith and I have changed over the years. People grow; people grow up. When we met, I was just beginning my career. We didn’t know where I was headed, and we certainly didn’t envision Keith putting his career aspirations aside to be the lead parent.* But he was willing to go for it, and that’s part of the beauty of this partnership—even though he was raised in a traditional household, he didn’t have hang-ups around gender roles.
We had our agreements, and we disagreed too, but that was normal. We’ve been married over thirty years, and I tell KB that we will be that adorable old couple holding hands on the street thirty years from now. (Probably trying to find our apartment.)
Here is what I know so far:
• Marriage requires patience. Listening more, interrupting less. I had heard this years ago, but I am just getting good at it.
• Marry someone who makes you laugh, and keep it up. Shelving your sense of humor is a lot easier than keeping it fresh. Keith and I watch comedy at night, not the news, not a slasher flick. We always agree on that.
• You don’t need to be alike. We embrace our differences. I freak out. He remains calm. He keeps volatility at bay. I keep colorful wigs in the closet. He watches Formula 1. I leave the room. We cover more ground this way.
We were inseparable early on, but over the years having personal time and space became essential to the health of our relationship, because we all need to be alone sometimes to work things out. The kitchen became KB’s sanctuary. Eating home-cooked meals is when we come together to talk, or not, depending on what we both need.
And we travel, experiencing newness together and collecting shared memories (we take turns remembering details).
It’s pretty simple. We respect each other. Our choices, our decisions, our dreams. It’s also complicated,** like a good psychological thriller; usually KB has it figured out in the first thirty minutes, and I need to watch till the end.
On our wedding day, in a conference room in the Time & Life Building, in New York City
* Thanks for this new term, Sally Thornton.
** See No93: Beautiful Contradictions.