15 years ago this week, my wife and I married. Days before we were married were vastly different to days after we married. I had no idea that I was so idealistic leading into the wedding, and soon after we arrived home from the honeymoon, I nosedived into a significant depression for two months where I lost my sense of self.
A big part of the issue was I’d spent three years recovering from the loss of my first marriage, and I was determined to upend every part of me to ensure I was really ready for married life.
I’d spent all that time and effort on becoming all I needed to be only to realise that the journey of being a married man had only just begun.
The biggest gap left was my expectations of marriage—I felt like I was fully prepared and that I’d really know my wife, and on both counts, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I was so shocked with this realisation that it not only led to a sharp depression, but it made me wonder who I’d married. Little did I know it at the time, but my wife was thinking exactly the same thing. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t share every facet of her life with me, only to realise I’d actually married a person who cherished her privacy. I also thought I’d have to share my wife with friends and family—as I really desired all of her time at the time (yes, I know, really unhealthy!). The fact is those fears were completely unfounded—she was, in fact, VERY adept at living independently.
Those two months of June and July 2007 were the strangest time of arriving in a land I’d always planned to live in, only to detest what it was that I’d solemnly sought for those three years. The bigger part of the deep depression I’d sunk into was the utter paradox of my circumstances; I’d arrived at blessing, and it was NOTHING that I thought it would be.
During this period, I was also staring down the barrel of career change and I was also on the cusp of turning 40. I spiralled into that nosedive as I was entered a period of change and loss of multidimensional proportions. My whole life was in flux, and it caused fear to overwhelm me.
Turning 40, fortunately, was probably the threshold that I needed to reach as I clawed my way out of the depression through a devotional intentionality that propelled me into writing blog articles—which I’ve done ever since.
For me, entering a period of massive change that heralded some beautiful expectations worked against me because I’d become unconsciously idealistic—believing married life would suddenly be utterly blissful and beautiful.
It took us some time before we could say our marriage was anything like “utterly blissful and beautiful” and my unrealistic expectations were a significant part of that, especially early on.
This experience has been very worthwhile as a pre-marriage counsellor these days. When I provide pre-marriage education and counselling, I spend some time working on expectations, idealism and being realistic. Marriage is not what it seems to be. It’s hard work once the honeymoon period wears off.
I’m thankful that I experienced this particular depression because it gave me insight to the power of expectations and how much they can lead us to hazardous terrain. Had I continued how I set out our marriage either would not have survived or we would have been the most unhappy of couples.
Expectations are huge in relationships. If we expect too much of our partner or we expect too much from our relationship, we’ll end up making it harder for the both of us. And many times, sad to say, those unrealistic expectations end up burying the relationship.
Realistic expectations are easier to satisfy.
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