Dangers of dating a muslim man
Perhaps your spouse’s blind adoration seems to be fading?
Do the two of you sometimes feel contempt or defensiveness in the face of each other’s “helpful” feedback?
When my first marriage failed, I wanted desperately to fall in love and start again.
I wanted to show my princess-obsessed little girls that lasting love was possible; that their romantic dreams could come true. When I met Mark, the man who is now my second husband, I was optimistic.
It was so much more fun to have an adult to talk to at night.
I also married Mark—again, unconsciously—in an attempt to preserve those feelings of being adored which are the hallmark of the early stage of almost every relationship.
Three of our teenagers decided to live full-time with us (the fourth goes to boarding school).
Can I let go of my attachment to a cultural idea that is, quite literally, a fairy tale?
As if he knew that I’ve been thinking about all this, the other day in the car Mark asked me if I’d marry him again, knowing what I know now. Someone .” “I would choose you,” I insisted, and not just because I don’t like to be told what I do and don’t like.
Actually, he didn’t ask so much as he asserted, with good humor, that he knew I wouldn’t marry him again. In my heart I knew it was true: I would marry him again and again, even now that I know that marriage is not necessarily easier or more pleasant than being alone, even accepting that marriage does not have any power to transport us back into a state of romantic bliss.
If that sounds familiar, you have likely married the wrong person. Here’s what I didn’t understand until recently: We According to the brilliant de Botton, we mustn’t abandon our flawed spouses simply because our marriages aren’t living up to childhood daydreams.
Instead, we need to jettison “the Romantic idea upon which the Western understanding of marriage has been based the last 250 years: that a perfect being exists who can meet all our needs and satisfy our every yearning.” It’s no small feat for me to let go of this cultural ideal.
For many decades, it has housed my most cherished hopes and dreams. But every time I wish he were different—every time I wish he would do, say, or be something that he isn’t—it’s as though I’m expecting him to be someone else.