When Marriage Becomes Management
In July, I picked up Belle Burden’s Strangers: A Memoir of Marriage near the checkout at Target. I was preparing for a trip, saw “New York Times bestseller” on the cover and was intrigued.
As someone who leads a family-focused nonprofit and is slightly obsessed with all things marriage and parenting, I was an easy sell.
What could a memoir of marriage have to say?
Turns out, quite a lot.
The book is incredibly well-written and also incredibly sad. Burden describes the abrupt end of her marriage during the COVID pandemic after more than 20 years together. She did not see it coming. Her husband, however, had apparently been planning his departure for some time.
One day they were cooking together, raising children and living the life they had built. Then suddenly, he was cold and distant, saying he wanted out and did not even want shared parenting time with their children.
Of course, theirs is not the first marriage to end this way.
So, naturally, I spent much of the book asking: What happened?
Was he secretly miserable? Was she unbearable? Had something happened that she did not know about? How does someone go from participating in a family to essentially building another life without them?
More than 200 pages into the book, I realized those questions were probably never going to be answered.
But another answer did begin to emerge.
They had become so entangled in managing the life they built together that, somewhere along the way, they stopped being intentional about who they were as a couple, as individuals and even as a family.
That observation does not excuse her husband’s decisions. A lack of connection does not make one spouse responsible for another spouse’s betrayal or abandonment. As an advocate for healthy marriages, I also found myself wishing they had been given an opportunity to confront what had happened and possibly rebuild.
But Burden’s reflections made me wonder how many couples unknowingly find themselves in a similar place.
Not divorcing. Not necessarily miserable. Just hollow.
Perfectly functional on the outside, but lacking substance underneath.
Researchers sometimes describe the behaviors that keep relationships strong as “relationship maintenance.” A meta-analysis by researchers Brian Ogolsky and Jill Bowers found that habits such as openness, reassurance, shared responsibilities and positive interactions are associated with stronger commitment and greater relationship satisfaction.
In other words, healthy marriages usually require more than staying married.
Intentionality is choosing to keep knowing the person you married.
It is asking, “How are you really doing?” instead of only, “Who is picking up the kids?”
It is noticing what your spouse is excited about, worried about or becoming interested in. It is sharing pieces of yourself that do not involve the grocery list, mortgage payment or orthodontist appointment.
Psychologist John Gottman calls part of this maintaining your spouse’s “love map,” your knowledge of their inner world. The problem is that people change. The person you married at 25 may have different fears, dreams and priorities at 38.
Love maps need updates.
So how do you know when you might simply be going through the motions?
Ask yourself a few questions. Do most of our conversations revolve around logistics? Do I know what is weighing on my spouse right now? When something good happens, is my spouse one of the first people I want to tell? Have we stopped having difficult conversations because keeping the peace feels easier? Do we spend time together but rarely feel connected?
None of those questions predicts divorce. Every couple goes through busy seasons.
But they can reveal drift.
And children are affected by the emotional climate of a home, too. A large meta-analysis published in Psychological Bulletin found links between poor parental relationship quality, destructive conflict and emotional or behavioral difficulties in children.
That does not mean children need parents who are constantly romantic or who never disagree. They need to see warmth, affection, teamwork and repair.
Sometimes one of the healthiest things a child can hear is, “I was frustrated earlier and I spoke unkindly to your dad. I apologized.”
That teaches something powerful about love.
For couples who recognize some drift, the answer probably is not an elaborate marriage retreat in Fiji. Although, for the record, I am not opposed to Fiji.
Start smaller.
Spend ten phone-free minutes talking about something other than responsibilities. Take a walk. Ask a question you have not asked in years. Try something new together.
Research by psychologist Arthur Aron and his colleagues found that couples who participated in novel and exciting activities together reported increases in relationship quality. Apparently, there really is something to occasionally breaking out of the dinner-Netflix-bed routine.
Couples also need room to remain individuals. Support your spouse’s friendships, interests and goals. Ask what part of themselves has gotten buried beneath the demands of work and family.
And when distance feels too large to navigate alone, get help. Research on couple therapy consistently finds meaningful improvements in relationship satisfaction, communication and emotional intimacy for many couples who participate.
Marriage is intended to be a safety net for two people, a place where both can feel fully known, loved and supported. It is meant to create warmth and connection in a home, not simply provide someone to split the errands with.
But I understand how easily that purpose gets buried beneath everyday life.
I have been married for 12 years. We have two small children with extracurricular schedules of their own, a home under renovation and a nonprofit I lead that is growing rapidly. My husband travels regularly for work. Our social life is somehow still hanging on.
I understand how difficult it can be to prioritize your spouse.
When the calendar and to-do list are full, it feels wonderful just to have someone you can turn to and say, “You got that? Great! I’ll be over here!”
Sometimes dividing and conquering feels less like a marriage strategy and more like a survival plan.
And there is nothing wrong with sharing the load.
The trouble comes when we stop sharing ourselves.
When “Who’s handling pickup?” replaces “How are you holding up?” When we know every detail of tomorrow’s schedule but very little about what our spouse is feeling. When we assume that because we are doing so much for our family, we must be connecting with our family.
Over time, that distance can erode a relationship deeply and quietly.
There may never be one dramatic argument. No obvious turning point. No flashing warning light.
We can keep getting everything done while slowly losing touch with each other.
The answer is not to write “Have an amazing marriage” at the bottom of an already impossible to-do list.
It is to notice when the teamwork needs a little tenderness.
To pause long enough to ask a question that has nothing to do with logistics.
To say, “I know we’re both tired, but I miss you,” even when you have been in the same house all evening.
Burden’s story did not give me a formula for preventing heartbreak. No book could.
But it did leave me asking what may be a better question for all of us:
Are we simply maintaining the life we built, or are we still choosing each other within it?
Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org
