Marriage is the realization that living two perfect stories separately isn’t nearly as beautiful as living one messy story together…
Several years ago, my wife and I were in the process of buying a new house. I kept gravitating toward homes with small rooms and close quarters. She was drawn to homes with open floor plans and expansive rooms. I secretly wondered if she was being shallow and greedy. She thought I was trying to give her claustrophobia. No matter how well we communicated and tried to compromise, we couldn’t get on the same page.
We were stuck.
And it wasn’t just about a house…
Why Stuck Happens
When I was in graduate school, I assumed every marital therapy was a boxing match. I figured every session would be like a dramatic weekend marriage retreat where couples pick up big, red, foam bats and beat the stuffing out of things in order to release their anger.
The reality is far less dramatic and far more tender and beautiful. For most couples I see, life is actually pretty good—there isn’t a whole lot to complain about. But they share a mutual frustration about some unnamable thing that feels somehow…missing. They say they feel “stuck.”
In 2004, a soon-to-be-retired psychologist told me the secret to un-stucking a marriage. I was telling him how I felt stagnated with several of my clients when he looked at me and said, “Kelly, when a therapy is stuck, it’s because you and your client don’t share the same goals. In fact, that probably goes for any relationship.”
If a relationship is stuck, it’s because you don’t share the same goals.
Quiet Hopes and Untold Stories
In his book, Love Does, Bob Goff describes a family discussion immediately after 9/11, in which he asked his kids how they would solve the big problems in the world:
“Richard was next. He said he would ask each of the world leaders what they were hoping for. The idea was that if world leaders knew what each other were hoping for, then perhaps they could start hoping for the same things. Rich reasoned that the problem was no one knew what other people were quietly hoping for.”
The problem is no one knows what other people are quietly hoping for.
Several years ago, as my wife and I were in our floor-plan stalemate, we discovered we were quietly hoping for very different things from our marriage, our family, and our life. I wanted a house with tiny gathering spaces to encourage coming together as a family, hunkering down with each other by the fireplace or in front of a family movie. My story—and thus the home I desired—didn’t leave a lot of room for people outside of our immediate family.
My wife on the other hand was quietly hoping our story would be one of welcoming many people into our home, creating an inviting space for gathering and hospitality and community. She wasn’t being shallow or greedy. In fact, the opposite was true—she wanted to tell a beautiful story with our new home. It just wasn’t the story my introverted self wanted to tell.
No matter how well we communicate in a marriage, we can’t get unstuck and take our marriage to the next level if we have different goals, if we have undefined or uncoordinated visions of where life is headed, if we have desires unlived and hopes unspoken.
Every marriage needs one good story.
Discovering a Story to Share
Don Miller defines a story as “a character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it.” He says when the main character in a story doesn’t know what he wants out of life, the story becomes confusing and directionless. The story gets stuck. But if the main character knows what he wants and decides to climb over any obstacle to get it, then the story explodes with purpose and redemption.
What if our marriage is the main character in the story of our lives? But what if it’s a character with two hearts—two sets of hopes and dreams and desires? What would happen if those two hearts discovered one shared story and decided to tell it together on every page of this one-chance life?
When this kind of clarity and direction is discovered in a marriage, partners start speaking the same language, families are freed up to eliminate the clutter distracting them from the one story they want to tell, children are given a sense of purpose and meaning beyond the next video game release, quiet hopes get lived, sacred desires are realized, and the world becomes more beautiful—one marriage and one family at a time.
One Good Story Waiting to be Told
My wife and I bought the house with the small rooms. But then we also bought a trampoline—a magnet for a neighborhood full of kids. And then we bought a screen door, so our door will always be open in the summer months. And we decided to sit on our front steps instead of our back deck. We decided the story we want to tell is a story of togetherness and belonging, first nurtured within our four walls and then extended to the rest of the world.
She’s in charge of expanding me when I get too small, and I’m in charge of focusing her when she gets too sprawling.
Are we always true to the story we want to tell? No. Do we sometimes lose the plot? Absolutely. We make plenty of typos, and we have a lot of editing to do, and the conclusion of our story is still a long way off. But you start to realize telling two perfect stories isn’t nearly as gratifying as telling one messy story together.
Every marriage is one good story waiting to be told by two people whose hearts have begun to pound to the beat of the same drum.
Two becoming one. One good story at a time.
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In his debut novel, Kelly weaves a page-turning, plot-twisting tale that explores the spiritual depths of identity and relationships, amidst themes of healing, grace, faith, forgiveness, and freedom.
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About Kelly
Dr. Kelly Flanagan is a psychologist, author, consultant, and speaker who enjoys walking with people through the three essentials of a truly satisfying life: worthiness, belonging, and purpose. His blog writings have been featured in Reader’s Digest, The Huffington Post, The 5 Love Languages, and the TODAY Show. Kelly is the author of Loveable and True Companions.
