Love Wins: 6 Reasons I Chose to Say Yes to a Second Marriage
“A second marriage is the triumph of hope over experience” ~ Oscar Wilde
I’m never getting married again.
That was my emphatic take after my first marriage ended. Ten years married to a high functioning alcoholic was enough. The idea of being legally bound to another human being ever again seemed like a massive disadvantage.
I liked the idea of an easy out if things didn’t work out in future relationships. It gave me a weird kind of comfort that allowed me to cautiously dip my toes back into the dating pool.
For sixteen years I held the line. I had a few non-committal relationships that were safe, but nothing to write home about. Then a very cute and charming Australian man came along and chucked a wrench into all my singly-ever-after plans.
Embracing the second time around
On a cloudy January afternoon, I did what I swore I’d never do. I took a leap of faith and tied the knot with that fun-loving Aussie in front of a small group of family and friends at San Francisco City Hall. It’s the second marriage for both of us and this time around I’m optimistic about our prospects for a long and happy life together.
Here’s why I believe the odds are in our favor when it comes to getting it right the second time around:
We know what we’re getting into
I had no idea what to expect the first time out. I was a few months into my first marriage when reality reared its annoying head. Surprise! It’s not always sunshine and rainbows.
I thought marriage would be easy, believing the platitude, “all you need is love”. No one told us we’d have to work at it. I was clueless about the level of commitment and flexibility required. It didn’t help that we were young and emotionally immature.
We didn’t know a thing about ourselves, much less being able to understand another human being. Our egos often got in the way of productive communication and what should have been minor discussions over small issues turned into huge blowouts.
As we moved through our twenties and into our thirties, the gulf between us widened and hostilities grew. Daily life in the same home revealed more differences than commonalities. Small resentments morphed into big arguments that progressed to bitter stalemates before the marriage finally ran its course, arriving at a sad and disappointing dead end.
This time around we know what we’re getting into. We know there will be both good and bad days. We value open and honest communication to build connections and avoid resentments. We get that it’s work and we’re willing to take it on. We also now understand the level of commitment and compromise needed for a successful marriage.
It’s not about the day
The first time around, as soon I said yes to my fiancé's proposal, I turned my attention to planning the big day. A storybook wedding is the stuff of little girl dreams, complete with the fairytale dress, smiling bridesmaids and a picture-perfect venue. It’s no wonder most brides are totally stressed out and in Bridezilla mode in the months leading up to their wedding day.
The wedding industry takes advantage of this and they ruthlessly promote the ideal. There’s an outsized emphasis on the importance of the perfect wedding day, making it easy to get swept up in a tidal wave of excitement.
I bought into the fantasy and became ruthlessly focused on putting together the best day ever. So focused, in fact, that I missed (or ignored) lots of red flags hinting that the relationship between my husband-to-be and myself wasn’t a healthy one.
Here’s the thing: A wedding is a day — a marriage is a lifetime.
I equated a perfect wedding day with a perfect marriage. The excitement of planning a big celebration party masked one key point: marriage is a decades-long commitment and I wasn’t ready for it.
This time around I was clear on my priorities, making the quality of our marriage the main focus. We had an intimate ceremony at San Francisco City Hall with fifteen friends and family members. It was a stress-free celebration that allowed us to relax and enjoy the day. The simplicity of the event freed us to focus on our relationship in the months leading up to the ceremony.
I’m more realistic this time around
Before getting married for the first time, I had an idealized vision of the perfect marriage. I expected a doting spouse and that we’d always be blissfully and effortlessly in love. It didn’t take long to realize perfection is a fallacy. Unrealistic expectations of wedded bliss fed the twin beasts of disappointment and resentment.
This time around, my husband and I made a point to get to really know each other. We love each other, but just as important is acceptance. We accept each other as-is, flaws and all.
Acceptance means being realistic and not trying to change your significant other. I find this freeing, because I want a partner, not a project. I don’t need to fix him and he doesn’t have the pressure of trying to make me a better person.
Being realistic means setting expectations. We discuss deal-breakers, must-have qualities and our core values. We share the things that make us challenging to live with and also where we fell short in our first marriages.
I’m more appreciative
There’s nothing like a bad marriage to help you appreciate a good partner. Both of our first marriages were characterized by unpredictability and verbal abuse. It’s an experience that helps us stay aware of the need to treat each other with gentleness and kindness.
Even when we disagree or have a rough day, we make sure to voice appreciation for one another. Simple acts of kindness, empathy and appreciation go a long way to nurturing a relationship. Feeling heard and valued is key to warding off relationship-killing resentment.
I learned from my first marriage
It takes two to make — and two to break — a marriage. My first marriage taught me a lot about what works and doesn’t work for me in relationships. I’m aware of the role I played in the demise of my first marriage and I make a conscious effort to avoid repeating those mistakes this go-round.
We also avoided rebounding into our second marriage. After divorcing, my current husband and I both took a long break from serious relationships before we met. My husband was alone for five years and I was on my own nearly sixteen years before we got together. During that time, we invested in self-improvement and learned how to be happy on our own. This time and space helped ensure we were getting married for the right reasons.
The work we’ve done on ourselves helps us come to our marriage with a clear understanding of our baggage. It also helps us know what we need to do to have a better relationship this time around. We know it’s not a one-and-done thing. Our marriage will always be a work in progress, and we are open and excited to learn new things about each other.
Maturity is on our side
Wisdom comes with time. I’m at an age where I’m more self-aware and less apt to jump to conclusions or engage in uncaring self-centered behavior. And I’m a lot more patient in my fifties than I ever was in my twenties and thirties.
Getting married in our fifties was a good thing. Our combined life experience helps us manage the challenges of marriage. For us that includes the added complexity of managing an international marriage while we navigate the immigration process.
We’re not Jedi masters at communication, but our skills are much better than they were the first time out. It helps that we’re happy and comfortable with who we are and the culmination of our lived experiences gives us a sense of ease in this marriage that wasn’t there the first time.
In Conclusion
Marriage is a huge, life-changing commitment, and it’s true that around half of all marriages end in divorce. That’s enough for many to decide they’ll never dip their toes into the pool again.
Then there are some of us who find our soulmate and brave the prospect of saying “I do” once more.
The second time around has been fantastic so far, and I’m learning marriage can be a fulfilling and joyful experience. I’m glad I decided to take a chance on love and marriage one more time. The future looks bright.
