Most of us grew up believing in the same ending.

The music swells.
The couple kisses.
The screen fades to black.

“Happily ever after.”

It sounds comforting. Predictable. Safe.

But if you’ve been married longer than a few seasons, you probably know something already: marriage doesn’t fade to black. It doesn’t end at the wedding. It begins there.

And maybe that’s where the fairy tale quietly misleads us.

Because “happily ever after” suggests permanence. A steady state of joy that, once achieved, simply continues.

Real life doesn’t tend to work that way. Marriage certainly doesn’t.

Happiness comes and goes. So does stress and so does exhaustion. Especially for mothers juggling work, children, responsibilities, and the shifting identities that come with different life stages.

If happiness is the constant expectation, then every difficult season feels like failure.

Couple arguing.

The Quiet Pressure of Perfection

There’s something subtle but powerful about growing up with the idea that love should be effortless once it’s official.

If conflict appears, we wonder if something is wrong.
If resentment surfaces, we question our compatibility.
If the spark dims during a particularly chaotic year of parenting, we worry it’s gone for good.

The fairy tale framework doesn’t leave much room for growth. It doesn’t account for two individuals evolving, sometimes in different directions and having to consciously choose each other again and again.

In reality, marriage is rarely static. It stretches. It tightens. It bends under pressure and then slowly reshapes itself. There are seasons when communication feels natural and seasons when it feels like work. And perhaps that’s not a flaw. Perhaps it’s evidence of movement.

Perfection, when we think about it honestly, isn’t even desirable. It doesn’t challenge us. It doesn’t deepen us. It doesn’t require humility.

Growth does.


Growth Over Perfection

A healthy marriage may not look like constant happiness. It might look more like resilience.

It looks like learning how your partner handles stress. It looks like discovering new sides of each other after children arrive. It looks like renegotiating roles when careers shift, or when one of you feels lost for a while.

There are conversations that feel easy and conversations that feel heavy. There are misunderstandings that sting and apologies that take time. And yet, when both people remain committed to evolving together, those moments become part of the story rather than threats to it.

Many couples find that the strongest periods of connection actually follow difficult seasons.

There’s something about working through friction that creates a deeper understanding that feels “earned”.

“Happily ever after” on the other hand suggests arrival but growth… that suggests continuation.

And continuation feels more honest.


Why Symbolism Still Matters

It might sound contradictory to question fairy-tale endings while still caring about wedding traditions but symbolism serves a different purpose.

It doesn’t promise perfection; it reminds us of commitment.

Wedding bands are a simple example. They’re small, circular, easy to overlook and yet they’re worn every single day.

They witness arguments and reconciliations, sleepless nights and quiet celebrations but don’t guarantee happiness.

For some couples, choosing similar or coordinated bands becomes a way of acknowledging that they are distinct people building something shared. The matching wedding bands can symbolize that kind of imperfectly perfect partnership and act as a quiet reminder that growth, not perfection, is what binds two people together.


Redefining Success in Marriage

So If “happily ever after” isn’t the goal, what is?

It might be steadiness. It may be adaptability or It may be the willingness to stay curious about each other even after years of familiarity.

Success in marriage might mean being able to say, “We’re not at our best right now, but we’re still choosing each other.” Or it might mean allowing space for change without interpreting it as a threat.

Parenthood, in particular, reshapes marriages in ways few people fully anticipate.

Exhaustion lowers patience. Responsibilities multiply. Intimacy sometimes takes a back seat to logistics. Such shifts can feel unsettling, especially if we expected permanent romance to carry us through unchanged.

But there is another kind of intimacy that develops in shared responsibility.

The kind of glance across a chaotic kitchen that says, “We’re in this together.”

The small cup of coffee your significant other gets you when your at your wits end without saying a single world.

Or the many small gestures that go unnoticed by anyone else.

And perhaps that is closer to what lasting love looks like.


Marriage Is Movement

One of the biggest misconceptions about long-term relationships is the idea of arrival. As though, once married, you have achieved something fixed.

In truth, marriage keeps asking questions.

Who are you becoming?
Who is your partner becoming?
Can you grow without growing apart?

Questions like that don’t disappear with a fancy wedding ceremony.

They surface repeatedly, especially during major life transitions and that’s the point.

Movement is not instability. It is life.

When we release the expectation of constant happiness, we create room for something sturdier. Something less glamorous, perhaps, but more durable.

We allow space for mistakes. For forgiveness. For recalibration.

We stop measuring our relationship against an imagined ending and start participating in its unfolding.


A Different Ending

A fairy tale ends with certainty.

Real marriage however continues with choice.

Maybe “happily ever after” was never meant to be a literal goal. Maybe it was a shorthand for “May you keep choosing each other.”

Taking it too seriously can quietly set us up for disappointment.

Happiness is a beautiful byproduct of connection, but it is not a permanent state.

Growth, however, is possible.

Growth allows for joy and frustration. For closeness and distance. For ordinary days that don’t feel magical but still feel meaningful.

And perhaps that’s a more realistic promise to carry into marriage.

Not perfection.

Not uninterrupted bliss.

Just two imperfect people, growing ever after.