In Your 30s, It Can Feel Like Divorce Is the New Norm

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I was having a chat with my colleague, Jenna, about a friend of hers who was going through a divorce. We were both in our mid-30s, and the tale she was spinning was quite the spectacle. Apparently, her friend, let’s call him Tyler, was caught in a parking lot sharing a kiss with another woman. Her husband didn’t take it lightly and stormed out of his car to confront him.

“We’ve known Tyler and his wife for years,” Jenna said. “We’ve celebrated holidays together, and now they’re splitting up. It’s just so bizarre.”

We drifted into a discussion about divorce—not that either of us were contemplating it. Both of us are happily married, nearing 12 years with our partners. Still, it seems like so many couples we once knew are now calling it quits. Jenna and I spent half an hour in her office, reminiscing about how much we love our spouses and how daunting it would be to start over.

As I returned to my own office, I reflected on my 20s when it seemed like everyone was tying the knot. Weekends were filled with weddings, gift shopping, and wishes for the newlyweds. But now, in our 30s, it feels like the focus has shifted to divorce. I married at 22, which I realize is pretty young. My wife, Mia, and I have certainly evolved over the years, but we’ve also grown together. Yet, that doesn’t seem to be the case for everyone else.

Mia and I have moved around quite a bit during our marriage, so like many others, we keep tabs on friends through social media. It’s perplexing to see someone you’ve known for ages—whose wedding you attended, and whose first child you celebrated—suddenly updating their status to “single” or swapping their profile picture to one with a new partner.

It becomes even more complicated given that many couples in their 30s were likely raised by divorced parents. Divorce rates soared in the 70s and 80s. My mother has been married three times, while my father passed away shortly after divorcing his fourth wife. I have a whole array of stepparents, half-siblings, and other relatives that once felt like family; now it’s hard to know how to define those relationships. Once, I even tried to introduce my ex-stepsister to Mia on Facebook, but I was stumped on how to label her. It felt odd to have been a part of her wedding yet now not know what to call her.

I eventually shared my chat with Jenna with Mia, including the parking lot scuffle. We had a laugh about it. She asked how I’d react if she ever kissed someone else, and I hesitated. “I don’t know…maybe? Honestly, I don’t want to think about that,” I admitted. “I’d like to believe we’re past those kinds of dramas. Kicking someone’s ass for kissing my girl feels so 2000s. I’d rather focus on our future, not relive the past.”

We were in the kitchen, and I was preparing my lunch for the next day while our three kids were glued to the TV. Mia was busy whipping up dinner. The quietness was a rare break from the usual chaos of parenting—where someone is always demanding attention or throwing a tantrum over homework or snacks. But compared to a love triangle that ends in a public fistfight, our lives felt pretty serene.

“I fight for you,” I said, “every day. But it’s not about throwing punches. It’s about waking up early for work and coming home late, day after day.” I continued to list the many things I do for her and our family, some of which I enjoy and others that I don’t. “Not to sound preachy, but I believe that marriage isn’t about brawls. It’s about consistent dedication.”

Mia added her own contributions to the list, and by the end, the thought of throwing a punch felt like a walk in the park compared to the daily commitment we both invest in our relationship.

Then I opened up about the deeper thoughts swirling in my mind. Divorce has significantly influenced my life, and now that I’m in my 30s, it feels like it’s everywhere. I often wonder if divorce has become just a natural part of adulthood. The phrase “til death do us part” seems to have lost its weight, and maybe we’re all destined to be serial monogamists.

“Sometimes, it feels like divorce is a rite of passage,” I confessed. “And honestly, that scares me because I really love you and our family. What we have together means everything to me.”

I’m not here to propose a grand solution to divorce. I don’t judge anyone who has gone through it. Marriage is an intricate blend of emotions and growth. What I can say is that I’m committed to fighting for my marriage, and it doesn’t look like a knockout in a parking lot—it looks like daily dedication. While that might not sound glamorous, it’s the truth of marriage in your 30s, and coming to terms with that has shown me just how significant the work Mia and I put into our family really is.

Mia leaned in and kissed me. “Don’t forget that it says, ‘Love you forever,’ on your ring.”

And indeed, it does—something she reminds me of from time to time. While I expected a grand sentiment, her simple words were enough to comfort me. It was a reminder that the vow we made long ago still holds the same importance for both of us. I’ll take that any day.

For those interested in exploring more about relationships and family life, check out this insightful post on home insemination, which also covers the complexities of family dynamics.

Summary

In your 30s, it can feel like divorce is a frequent topic of discussion among friends, especially as many navigate the complexities of relationships shaped by their upbringing. The commitment to marriage often requires more than the passion it started with; it necessitates daily dedication and mutual support.