The Marriage Excuse Nobody Admits To

teo.elynn
Jul 3
3 min read

Twenty years married this July. I won't pretend it's all been easy — there have been real highs and some genuinely low points along the way, years I wouldn't want to relive. I don't have this all figured out, and I'm not writing this from some perfect vantage point above it all.

But if there's one thing twenty years — the good stretches and the hard ones — has taught me, it's this:

You have to keep choosing each other. On purpose. Over and over.

And the number one excuse I hear for why couples stop doing this? "We just don't have time."

I'm going to be controversial here: that's not true. It's not that you don't have time. It's that you've decided other things get it instead.

"No time" is a myth

You have time to binge four seasons of a K-drama in a week. You have time to scroll for two hours before bed. You have time for Netflix, for gaming, for the group chat, for "just one more episode." Nobody is short on hours. People are short on priorities.

If you can find three hours for a drama marathon but can't find thirty minutes to sit down and actually talk to your spouse without a phone in hand — that's not a time problem. That's a priority problem, and it's worth being honest with yourself about it.

Marriages don't collapse because couples ran out of hours in the day. They erode quietly, one skipped conversation at a time, while both people were busy — just not busy with each other.

Ask yourself why you got married in the first place

Nobody marries someone thinking, "I can't wait to become roommates who coordinate schedules and split bills." You married them because you wanted them. Their company. Their attention. The way they made you feel like a priority.

Twenty years in, ask yourself honestly: does your spouse still feel like the priority you promised them they'd be? Or have they quietly slid down the list, underneath work, kids, hobbies, and yes — your shows?

That's not a guilt trip. It's just the question worth asking before the distance becomes permanent.

The fix isn't complicated, it's just uncomfortable

Prioritizing your spouse doesn't require a grand gesture or a second honeymoon. It requires doing the unglamorous thing: closing the laptop, putting the phone face down, skipping the episode, and choosing the person in front of you instead — regularly, not just on anniversaries.

Twenty years taught me that's the whole game. Not romance. Not big trips. Just consistently choosing them over the hundred smaller, easier things competing for your attention.

What this actually looks like

Not grand gestures. Small, repeatable ones:

Agree to a 15-minute tea or wine conversation in the evening — even just 15 minutes, even on the busy nights.
Say "I love you" and name one specific thing you loved about them that day. Every day.
Ask them: "What can I do this week that would actually relieve your stress?" — then do it.
Back their dreams with a real action, not just words. Pick up the kids one evening a week so they can go to the gym. Cover a morning so they can take that course.
Make time for intimacy — actual time, protected on the calendar if that's what it takes.