You Married Your Best Guess

Dear Couple, Not long ago, I found myself thinking about something my wife and I laughed about one evening.

We've been married for fifteen years now, and every once in a while one of us will say, "I never knew that about you."

It's funny when you think about it.

After all these years, shouldn't we know everything there is to know about each other?

Apparently not.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that's probably one of the greatest myths about marriage. We tend to believe that once two people have been together long enough, they eventually figure each other out. We imagine that after enough conversations, enough anniversaries, enough vacations, and enough ordinary Tuesdays, we'll finally reach a place where nothing about the other person surprises us anymore.

I don't think that's true.

In fact, I hope it isn't.

When I married my wife fifteen years ago, I wasn't marrying the woman she would become at forty. I was marrying the woman she was at that point in her life. She had dreams she hadn't accomplished yet, strengths she hadn't discovered yet, and challenges she hadn't faced yet.

The same was true for me.

Neither of us knew what military life would ask of us. Neither of us knew what becoming parents would teach us. We had no idea how our careers would change, how our priorities would evolve, or what life would eventually require from us.

We couldn't have known.

And that's the point.

Looking back, I don't think I married a finished person.

I married the best understanding I had of someone who was still becoming.

So did she.

I think every couple does.

Maybe that's why I get a little uncomfortable when I hear someone say, "You're not the person I married."

Sometimes that's true in painful ways. People can make choices that damage trust, and those choices have real consequences.

But most of the time, when people say those words, they're talking about something much quieter.

They're talking about change.

The husband who once had endless energy now carries the weight of leading a business.

The wife who once dreamed about becoming a mother is now trying to figure out who she is after the children have grown.

The couple who once stayed up talking until two in the morning now finds themselves discussing school schedules, grocery lists, and whose turn it is to call the insurance company.

Life keeps introducing us to new versions of ourselves.

Why wouldn't it do the same for our spouse?

I sometimes wonder if one of the greatest acts of love in a marriage is refusing to believe you've completely figured the other person out.

Curiosity is a beautiful thing.

Children have it naturally.

They ask questions because they genuinely want to know.

Adults often replace curiosity with certainty.

We begin finishing each other's sentences. We assume we know what the other person is thinking before they've finished speaking. We stop asking questions because we're convinced we already know the answers.

I wonder how many marriages slowly lose their sense of connection, not because love disappeared, but because curiosity did.

One of the questions I occasionally ask couples is, "What have you learned about your spouse in the last year?"

It's a simple question, but it often leads to a long silence.

Not because there isn't an answer.

Because no one has thought to ask it.

I don't ask that question to make anyone feel guilty.

I ask because I think healthy marriages remain curious.

They keep discovering.

They make room for the possibility that the person they love is still growing, still changing, still carrying new hopes and new fears they haven't yet put into words.

Maybe that's one of the quiet invitations marriage offers us.

Not simply to love one another.

But to keep meeting one another.

Again and again.

If I could leave you with one thought today, it would be this.

The next time you're sitting together over dinner, or driving somewhere, or taking a walk, ask your spouse a question you honestly don't know the answer to.

Not because your relationship is in trouble.

But because people are wonderfully unfinished.

And perhaps one of the greatest joys of a lifelong marriage is realizing that, even after all these years, there's still more of the person you love waiting to be discovered.

Always in your corner, Sam