How Many Marriage Problems Are of Our Own Making?

There is no marriage in this world without problems; if one insists on looking for problems, even the most perfect marriage yields countless ones. When people reach middle age, marriage problems are the most likely to surface.

A friend of more than ten years once said to me: life is so long, and middle age is so painful, that she well understands and sympathizes with extramarital affairs. Those words gave me a sudden, heavy jolt. Perhaps because we are of an age, have known each other long, and are close, what she said struck home so precisely.

Recently I, too, have weathered a marriage crisis—to be exact, have been put to the test of an extramarital attraction. A reader of mine suddenly felt, on meeting me, that she had known me all her life. Her delicate understanding of my inner world warmed and moved me deeply.

My wife and I were classmates in middle school; she was the first person I loved when my heart first stirred. We dated for many years before marrying. Once this reader friend asked me: you were so young back then, did you really know what love is? Wasn't it just sexual attraction that drew you together? Does she really understand your thinking? At the time I felt she had a point, because over the years my wife has almost never read what I wrote, nor delved into what her own husband thinks and feels.

But on calming down I felt this view was also wrong. When a man and a woman come together, sexual attraction is certainly at work, but for a person to be willing to walk with another into marriage, to have children and share this long, dreary life, sexual attraction alone is not enough. Over these years, how many sexual temptations has my wife not been for me? Nor was she the only one to stir my desire. Yet in the end our love and marriage held firm. There must be some more important factor, beyond sex and kinship, that has let us walk the road of life together for so long.

I often tell people that my satisfaction with my marriage is above ninety-five percent. My marriage is not invulnerable; it has had its cracks, and even a few times, when the conflicts were too great, my wife and I both thought of divorce. But in the end every storm has subsided, and mutual forbearance and compromise have let us make up again and again.

This extramarital temptation troubled me deeply, because it stirred ripples in my heart and made it hard for someone who had been calm as still water for years to settle. I consulted my teachers and my friends, but none could quiet my unrest. Finally I decided to confess everything to my wife, to tell her of the temptation and torment my heart was undergoing. Because I have long been used to living honestly, I could not get used to living under cover of lies; so before slipping further, I decided to face my wife openly, and together we would confront this problem.

When she first heard it, my wife thought I was joking. But when I spoke to her a second time, very seriously, she began to believe it. She first said that she would respect my choice: if I was no longer satisfied with the marriage and wanted to leave the fortress, I need not consider her feelings, but follow my own heart. Then she very much wished to meet this girl who liked her husband, to thank her for appreciating him. But she also hoped the girl would respect public morality and decency: in liking someone, there is a proper order of first come, first served.

On that walk, my wife said much to me. She said that because life had grown plain, she had indeed for years stopped caring what I thought and felt, and no longer showed me the appreciation she had when we were young. But she had always known that I was an unusual person; she simply did not say it every day. I reflected on myself: was I any different? How many times had I praised her over the years? When had I last, as in the frenzy of courtship, passionately declared myself to her? Once two people marry and make a home, even a towering genius, in his spouse's eyes, is an ordinary person who eats, drinks, defecates, urinates and sleeps every day. All of the other's outstanding qualities no longer shine as they once did.

Repetitive life most easily wears away passion; then again, how many people can bear a life of constant passion? Life is not only love; it is firewood, rice, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar and tea.

This exchange between my wife and me stilled the turmoil in my heart; my heart was extraordinarily at peace. I gradually realized that my restless heart had been out of place.

There is no marriage without cracks; cracks within a marriage should be resolved within the marriage. Extramarital affairs only tear those cracks wider. No crack should be torn open; every crack should be mended. Marriage is a long companionship; in the course of companionship, if one looks for problems, they can pile up like a mountain, and a mountain of such problems can crush any marriage.

This was perhaps life's test of me. After weathering it, I reined in my heart, and my satisfaction with my marriage rose still higher. Because the life partner I had chosen, even on an issue like this, was so reasonable, I had no reason to find fault with her; more, I should reflect on myself.