I was having a conversation with my colleague, Lisa, about a friend of hers who was going through a divorce. Both of us were in our mid-30s, and I have to say, the details she shared were quite sensational. Apparently, her friend, whom we’ll call Mark, was caught kissing another woman in a parking lot, leading to quite the scene when that woman’s husband stormed out of his car and confronted him.
“We’ve known Mark and his wife for ages,” Lisa remarked. “We’ve spent holidays together, and now they’re getting divorced. It just feels strange.”
We found ourselves discussing the couple’s situation, noting that they didn’t have kids, which would make the split a bit less complicated. The conversation then shifted towards divorce in general. Neither of us was contemplating leaving our spouses—both of us had been happily married for about 12 years—but we couldn’t help but notice how many people we knew seemed to be calling it quits.
After about half an hour of this discussion, I returned to my desk, reflecting on how, in my 20s, it felt like everyone was tying the knot. I attended weddings almost every weekend, carefully selecting gifts for the newlyweds and wishing them happiness. Now, in our 30s, it feels like the focus has shifted to divorce. I got married at 22, which some might consider young. While my wife, Anna, and I have changed a lot over the past 12 years, we have also grown together. Unfortunately, that doesn’t hold true for everyone.
Having moved across three different states during our marriage, like many couples, we keep up with friends through Facebook. It’s strange to see someone you’ve known for years, whose wedding you attended and whose first child you celebrated, suddenly list their status as “single” or change their profile picture to one with a new partner.
Adding to this complexity is the fact that many couples in their 30s grew up with divorced parents. The divorce rate peaked in the late 20th century, and my own family history reflects that—my mother is on her third marriage, while my father passed away shortly after his fourth divorce. I have a multitude of stepparents and half-siblings, which complicates family relationships. I even struggled to introduce my former stepsister to my wife on social media because I wasn’t sure how to label her anymore.
When I got home, I shared my conversation with Anna, including the details of the altercation in the parking lot. We joked about it, but I was also struck by the thought of what I would do if the roles were reversed. I told her I didn’t know how I’d react. “Maybe I would… probably. I really don’t want to think about that,” I admitted. “I’d like to think we’re past that drama. Kicking someone’s ass for kissing my partner seems so outdated. I’d rather focus on our future.”
As I prepared lunch in the kitchen, our three children were occupied with TV, and Anna was busy making dinner. The house was unusually quiet, a stark contrast to our typical chaotic evenings, where someone is always vying for attention or throwing a tantrum. In comparison to a love triangle that ends in a brawl, our lives felt remarkably peaceful.
“I fight for you every day,” I told Anna. “Even though it doesn’t look like a fight. It’s about waking up at 6 a.m. for work and coming home at all sorts of hours.” I went on to list the various ways I contribute to our family life, some of which I enjoy and others I don’t. “I’m not trying to be preachy, but I want you to know that marriage at this point isn’t about physical confrontations. It’s about daily commitment,” I said, and we exchanged our thoughts on what we both do for our family. After a bit of back and forth, it dawned on me that throwing a punch would certainly be an easier option.
What lingered in my mind throughout the day was how deeply divorce had impacted my childhood, and now in my 30s, it feels like it’s all around me. It makes me wonder if divorce is simply a part of growing up. The phrase “til death do us part” seems to have lost its weight, and maybe, just maybe, we’re all destined for a cycle of short-term relationships.
“Sometimes it feels like divorce is just a rite of passage,” I confessed. “And honestly, that terrifies me because I cherish you and our family so much.”
I’m not here to solve the puzzle of divorce, nor am I passing judgment on anyone who has experienced it. Marriage is undoubtedly the most challenging thing I’ve ever faced; it’s an intricate blend of emotions and personal growth.
What I do know is that I’ll continue to fight for my marriage, and that fight doesn’t involve parking lot brawls. It’s about daily commitment. While it may not sound thrilling, it’s the reality of marriage in your 30s, and reframing it this way has made me appreciate the significance of what Anna and I do for our family every day.
Anna leaned over and kissed me. “Don’t forget, your ring says ‘Love you forever’ inside,” she reminded me.
Indeed, it does. Anna occasionally reminds me of this, and while I might have expected something grander, her simple words hit just the right note. It reassured me that the promise we made years ago still holds the same importance for both of us, and that’s enough for me.
If you found this perspective relatable, check out our post on navigating relationships and family dynamics at Home Insemination Kit. For those curious about home insemination, Make a Mom is a trusted source. And for insights into the IVF journey, Parents offers excellent resources.
In summary, as we navigate our 30s, it’s essential to recognize the challenges many face, including rising divorce rates among our peers. However, through daily dedication and commitment, we can build lasting relationships that withstand the test of time.