You don’t expect to have a full-blown existential crisis over how to load the dishwasher, but here you are. You’re standing in your kitchen, staring at a pile of dishes that should not be a big deal, and yet, somehow, this feels personal. Is this really how your Saturday morning is going to go? Is this just about the dishes, or is this about something bigger? And if you’re fighting about this now, what does that mean for the future?
No one tells you this part when you’re engaged. They tell you about the honeymoon phase, how exciting it’ll be to start your life together, how wonderful it is to always have a person. But they don’t tell you about the slow unraveling of expectations, about the moments when love feels less like a fairytale and more like a series of negotiations.
At some point, every couple asks the same quiet, slightly terrifying question: Is this how it’s supposed to feel?
Debra Fileta, a licensed counselor and author of Choosing Marriage, has spent years helping couples navigate relationships, and she’s seen how quickly that question can turn into doubt.
“People assume marriage will complete them, that finding the right person will somehow make them whole,” she says. “But marriage isn’t a cure for loneliness, low self-esteem or personal baggage. Those things don’t disappear once you say ‘I do.’ If anything, marriage shines a spotlight on them.”
This is where so many people get stuck. They assume something is wrong when marriage doesn’t feel effortless. But love that lasts has never been about effortless compatibility. It’s about what happens when reality sets in and two people have to decide, again and again, to choose each other.
Maybe you assumed your spouse would know what you need without you having to say it out loud. Maybe you thought conflict wouldn’t happen as long as you were with the right person. Maybe you didn’t realize how much your past would shape the way you handle love, trust and disappointment. The little things—how you spend money, who does the laundry, what “quality time” actually means—start to feel like landmines.
This is why Scripture focuses so much on personal transformation. Before God ever talks about how to love another person, he commands us to love him first (Matthew 22:37). If we’re not letting him shape us into people who can love well, marriage will only reveal how much work we still have to do.
Fileta puts it plainly: “Marriage doesn’t fix your problems. It exposes them.”
Which is why a lasting marriage isn’t about finding someone who never annoys you, never disappoints you, never makes you question if you’re doing this right. It’s about two people who are willing to grow, willing to face their baggage, willing to put in the work.
Love isn’t a feeling that carries you effortlessly through the years. It’s something you build. It’s choosing to have hard conversations when you’d rather avoid them. It’s learning to communicate instead of assuming. It’s choosing grace when you’re frustrated and patience when you’d rather be right. It’s being intentional about connection when life is exhausting and everything in you wants to zone out on your phone instead.
The couples who make it aren’t the ones who never fight or never go through seasons where things feel off. They’re the ones who stay when it’s easier to leave, who fight for the relationship instead of against each other, who understand that love is what you do, not just what you feel.
So if you’re looking for the secret to a marriage that lasts, stop worrying about whether you married the right person. Start asking whether you’re becoming the kind of person who can make love last. Work on yourself. Own your baggage. Let God refine you. Love even when it’s inconvenient. And when you find someone willing to do the same, don’t let go.
Because marriage isn’t built on magical chemistry or perfect compatibility. It’s built on what you decide to do when love feels like a choice instead of a feeling.
And that’s the real secret.
