Now That I’m Over 50, Here Are the Things I Wished I’d Known Before Getting Married

Last month I went to a bridal shower for the daughter of a longtime friend. The hostess passed around index cards and asked every married woman in the room to write down something she wished she had known before her wedding. Every woman who picked up a pen was over fifty. The bride’s mother asked me to take the cards home and type them into a small booklet for the bride.

I spread the cards across my kitchen table that night. Tom read a few over my shoulder and laughed at some of them. My husband Tom and I have been married more than thirty years, so I had plenty to add in the margins. Some of the cards were funny. Some were blunt. A few made me stop and put the pen down.

Here are the cards, along with the scenes they brought back for me. I am not a counselor. I am a woman with a long marriage, three grown kids, and a quiet house. This is what the women at that shower, and what I, wish somebody had said out loud before the wedding.

Nobody can read your mind

The top card in the stack from the bridal shower said this in big block letters. I laughed, because I spent the early years of my marriage waiting for Tom to notice I was upset. I would bang cabinets in the kitchen and go quiet at dinner. Tom would ask what was for dessert. I thought he was ignoring me. He truly did not know.

The night I finally said, “I am angry because you forgot my mother was coming,” was the night things got easier. Tom said, “Oh. I can fix that.” He did. My husband Tom is a decent man, but he is not a mind reader, and neither is anybody else’s husband.

Say the thing plainly. Hints are not communication.

The wedding is just a party

A woman at my table at the shower wrote that she spent a year planning a party and about an hour planning a marriage. I nodded so hard my glasses slipped. I remember crying over the color of napkins for my own wedding. Tom and I never once sat down and talked about how we would handle money or his parents or holidays.

By the end of our wedding day, my feet hurt, the cake was gone, and the real work started on Monday morning with a sink full of dishes. Nobody asked about the napkins ever again. The marriage is the long part. The wedding is an afternoon.

Spend more time planning the marriage than the party.

Say sorry before you feel ready

A card from the shower read, “I wish I had known that waiting to feel sorry wastes days.” I wrote my own name next to that card. Tom and I once went three days without speaking over a lawn mower. I knew by the second morning that I had been unfair, but I wanted him to go first.

I finally said sorry while he was pulling on his boots to go rake leaves. He stopped, looked at me, and said, “Me too.” That was the whole thing. Three days of silence for a conversation that took ten seconds.

Apologize when you know you should, not when your pride lets you.

Marry the habits, not the hopes

A woman at the shower who has been married longer than I have wrote, “He will not change into the man you imagine. He will stay the man you dated.” The bride’s mother read that one aloud and the room went quiet.

When Tom and I were dating, he left his socks wherever he took them off. I told myself marriage would cure that. It did not. Tom still leaves his socks by the couch. I married the socks. I also married a man who gets up early to scrape my windshield, and that habit has not changed either.

Look at what your partner does every day. That is who you are marrying.

Talk about money before it talks for you

A card from the shower said only, “Money fights are never about money.” I know exactly what that means. Tom grew up in a house where every dollar was counted out loud. I grew up in a house where my mother cooked from scratch and nobody talked about the bills at all.

Our first big fight after the wedding was over a toaster. The toaster was not the problem. The problem was that we had never said how each of us felt about spending. We sat at the kitchen table that night and finally talked about what money meant to each of us. It was awkward and it helped.

Talk about money early, honestly, and often.

His family comes with him

A woman at the bridal shower wrote, “You do not marry a man. You marry a family and a set of holidays.” I underlined that on my own copy.

The first Thanksgiving after our wedding, Tom assumed we were going to his parents’ house. I assumed we were going to mine. We found this out on Wednesday night while I was thawing a turkey. Tom’s mother called to ask what time we were coming. I stood in the kitchen with a frozen bird and no plan.

We now have a holiday schedule that has held up for decades. It took a few rough years to get there.

Talk about family and holidays before the first holiday arrives.

You will not always like each other

A card from the shower said, “Some weeks you will love him and not like him at all. That is normal.” I remember the first time I felt that. Tom had been short with me for days during a hard stretch at his work, and I looked at him across the dinner table and felt nothing warm at all.

It scared me. I thought it meant something was broken. It did not. The hard week passed, Tom apologized for being short, and I liked him again by the weekend. Over more than thirty years there have been plenty of those weeks.

Not liking your husband for a week does not mean the marriage is in trouble.

Keep your own hobbies

A woman at the shower who paints wrote, “I gave up my own interests to be a wife, and I regret it.” She was blunt about it.

I nearly did the same. In the early years, if Tom was fishing, I sat at home waiting. I thought a good wife kept herself available. I was bored and resentful. The year I signed up for a quilting class on Thursday nights, I came home happier, and Tom said I was easier to talk to. He was right.

Now that the kids are grown, my own hobbies are a big part of why the quiet house does not feel empty.

Keep something that is yours. Your marriage will be better for it.

Do not drop your friends

A card from the shower read, “Keep your girlfriends. You will need them.” The bride’s mother tapped that card and said, “That one is from me.”

After the wedding, I stopped calling my friends as much. Tom was my best friend, so why would I need anybody else? Then our first baby came and I was lonely in a way Tom could not fix. The women who showed up with casseroles were the same friends I had been neglecting. They did not hold it against me, but I learned.

Tom cannot be your husband and your entire social life. That is too much for anybody.

Your friends are not a backup plan. Keep them close.

The chore talk never ends

A woman at the shower wrote, “I thought we would divide the chores once and be done. We are still dividing them.” I laughed out loud.

Tom rakes leaves on Saturday mornings. That has been true for decades. But the chores inside the house have shifted every few years, with babies, with jobs, with teenagers, and now with an empty nest. Last month Tom and I had a conversation about who empties the dishwasher now that there are only two plates in it. It was not a fight. It was just a conversation we needed to have again.

The chore list is not a contract. It is an ongoing discussion.

Go to bed tired, not angry

A card from the shower said, “Nobody ever told me how much sleep affects a marriage.” That is the truest thing in the stack.

When our youngest was a baby, Tom and I had the meanest fights of our marriage. None of them were about anything real. We were both getting about four hours of sleep. One morning Tom snapped at me over the coffee and I snapped back, and we both stopped and realized we were too tired to be fair to each other.

We started taking turns with the night feedings and the fights mostly stopped. Being tired makes everybody worse.

Before you decide you have a marriage problem, check whether you have a sleep problem.

In-laws need a united front

A woman at the shower wrote, “Decide together how to handle his mother, and then hold the line together.” She underlined “together.”

Tom’s mother used to rearrange my kitchen when she visited. I would find the flour where the sugar had been. I complained to Tom, and he told me to let it go. I felt alone in my own house. Finally Tom and I sat down and agreed on what we were both comfortable with. Then Tom was the one who kindly told his mother. That mattered. She took it better from him, and I felt like we were a team.

Your husband’s family is his to speak to. Your family is yours. Decide together, then speak up.

Kids change everything, and then they leave

A card from the shower read, “You will have kids and lose the marriage for a while. Find it again before they leave.” I sat with that card the longest.

When our three kids were small, Tom and I were coworkers more than spouses. We passed each other in the hall with laundry baskets. We talked about carpools and permission slips. Then the youngest left for college and the house went silent, and Tom and I looked at each other across the kitchen table like strangers who shared an address.

We had to learn each other again. It was worth it, but I wish we had never let it slip so far.

Keep something going between the two of you while the kids are home.

Figure out what the fight is really about

A woman at the shower wrote, “The fight is never about the dishes.” Every woman at my table nodded.

Tom and I once had a loud argument over which way the toilet paper roll should go. It went on for twenty minutes. Finally Tom stopped and said, “This is not about toilet paper, is it?” It was not. It was about my feeling that he did not notice anything I did around the house. The toilet paper was just where it came out.

Once we got to the real thing, the fight ended. We have never argued about toilet paper again, though the roll still goes on wrong half the time.

Ask what the fight is really about before you defend the dishes.

Keep some things private

A card from the shower said, “Do not tell your mother everything he does wrong. She will remember long after you forgive him.”

I learned that the hard way. Early in my marriage, I called my mother every time Tom annoyed me. I forgave him by dinner. My mother did not. For years she looked at him sideways over the pot roast because of things I had forgotten about. It was not fair to Tom and it was my fault.

Now I keep most of our arguments inside the house. I have friends I trust for the big things, but the small daily complaints stay between Tom and me.

Be careful who you complain to. They will remember what you forget.

Laugh at the same things

A woman at the shower wrote, “Marry someone who thinks you are funny.” It was the shortest card in the stack.

Tom and I do not agree on much about movies or music. But we laugh at the same things. We have a running joke about the end piece of the pot roast that has gone on for decades. Tom claims it every time, and every time I pretend to be shocked. It is not a great joke. It is ours.

On the hardest days of our marriage, the laughing was what pulled us back. If you can laugh together in a hospital waiting room, you can get through most things.

Shared laughter is not a small thing. It holds up over time.

Do not keep score

A card from the shower said, “I kept a tally for years. Nobody won.” The woman who wrote it told me later that she still regrets it.

I used to count. I did the dishes six nights and Tom did them once, so I was owed. Tom took the kids to the dentist and I did not, so he was owed. We carried these invisible ledgers around and pulled them out during fights. It made both of us miserable.

The year I stopped counting, something shifted. Tom started doing more, not less. I think he felt less judged. I know I felt lighter.

A marriage is not a ledger. Stop tallying and start noticing.

Ask for help in plain words

A woman at the shower wrote, “I wish I had known to just ask instead of hoping he would offer.”

I used to sigh loudly while carrying groceries, hoping Tom would get up. He would ask if I was okay. I would say I was fine and carry on sighing. This went on for years. One day I said, “Tom, please carry the groceries in.” He got up immediately and did it. He has done it ever since.

He was never refusing. He just did not hear sighing as a request. Most men do not. Most people do not.

If you need help, say the words. Sighing is not asking.

Health scares will come

A card from the shower read, “Talk about what you will do when one of you gets sick, because one of you will.”

Tom had a health scare some years back. I will not go into details, but there was a stretch of weeks when I drove to a hospital every day and sat in a plastic chair. I did not know what medications he took. I did not know where his insurance papers were. I was scared and I was unprepared.

We fixed that after he came home. Now we both know where everything is. It is not romantic, but it is love.

Sickness is coming for everybody eventually. Get the practical things in order before it does.

Say the nice thing out loud

A woman at the shower wrote, “I thought he knew I appreciated him. He did not.”

I caught myself doing this. Tom fixed the leaking faucet, and I thought, “That was kind of him,” and never said it. Tom got up early to scrape my windshield, and I noticed and said nothing. Then during a fight he said, “You never notice anything I do.” I was stunned. I noticed everything. I just never said it.

Now I say it. “Thank you for the windshield.” It takes four seconds and it changes the whole morning.

Noticing silently does not count. Say the kind thing out loud.

Learn how your husband shows love

A card from the shower said, “He was loving me the whole time. I was just looking for it in the wrong place.”

I wanted Tom to tell me he loved me. Tom is not a talker. For years I thought he did not care enough. Then one winter I realized he had been warming up my car every single cold morning for a decade. He had been checking my tires. He had been filling my gas tank on Sundays. That was Tom saying it.

I still like to hear the words, and I told him so, and he tries. But I stopped missing the love that was right in front of me.

Pay attention to how your husband shows care, not just how you want to hear it.

Protect your weekly time together

A woman at the shower wrote, “Keep a standing date. Do not let the kids or the job eat it.”

Tom and I did not do this when our kids were small, and we drifted. When we finally started, it was not fancy. Friday night we sat on the back porch after the kids were in bed and split a bowl of popcorn. That was it. No restaurant. No babysitter. Just an hour where we talked about something besides the kids.

That porch hour is probably why we still had a marriage when the house went quiet. Now that the kids are grown, we still sit out there on Fridays.

Put time together on the calendar and defend it.

Some problems need outside help

A card from the shower said, “Know the difference between a hard marriage and a dangerous one.”

I want to say this plainly. Most of what is on these cards is about normal marriage trouble, the kind that gets better with honesty and effort. But I have had friends in marriages with abuse, or addiction, or a spouse in a mental health crisis. Those are not problems a wife can fix with patience and a good attitude. Those need a professional, a counselor, a doctor, or a hotline. Calling for help is not giving up on your marriage. It is the right call.

Tom and I have gone to counseling ourselves during a hard stretch. It helped.

If you are scared or in over your head, call a professional. That is not weakness.

You will both become different people

A woman at the shower wrote, “I married a man I do not live with anymore. The man I live with now is better.”

Tom at our wedding was loud and restless and could not sit still through a meal. Tom now reads on the porch for an hour and asks about my day. I am not the same either. The woman who cried about napkins would not recognize the woman typing these cards.

I used to worry about changing. Now I think the marriage worked because we let each other change without holding it against each other.

Expect both of you to change. Make room for it.

Small kindnesses outlast big gestures

A card from the shower read, “He never bought me a fancy ring. He makes my coffee every morning. I would not trade.”

Tom has never surprised me with a trip or a piece of jewelry. For a while I thought I was missing out. My friends got flowers. I got a husband who salted the front steps before I came out so I would not slip. He has done that every icy morning for decades.

The flowers my friends got are long gone. The salted steps are still here. I understand now what I have.

Daily kindness matters more than anything that comes in a box.

Do not threaten to leave in anger

A woman at the shower wrote, “I said the word divorce in a fight once. It took years for him to stop flinching.”

I never said that word, but I came close during a terrible fight in our kitchen. I had the sentence ready. Something stopped me, and I am still grateful. Tom told me later that a threat like that would have changed how safe he felt with me. He was right. Some words cannot be unsaid.

Fight about the thing you are fighting about. Leave the big threats out of it unless you mean them.

Angry words about leaving do lasting damage. Keep them out of your fights.

Keep learning each other

A card from the shower said, “Ask him questions like you are still dating. He has new answers.”

Somewhere around the twenty-year mark, I realized I did not know what Tom was reading or what he was worried about. I assumed I knew everything about him. I asked him at dinner, feeling a little silly, what he thought about most on his drive home from work. His answer surprised me. It was about his father, who had been gone for years.

We had a conversation that night that we had never had. The man across the table had changed, and I had stopped asking.

Stay curious about your husband. He is not finished changing.

Have money and skills of your own

A woman at the shower wrote, “Be able to stand on your own, even if you never have to.”

I have friends who were widowed and friends who were left. The ones who had their own bank account and could change a tire and read a tax form did better. The ones who had let their husbands handle everything were lost for a long time. That is not a criticism. It is just what I saw.

Tom and I share everything, but I know how to run our household alone if I ever have to. Tom made sure of it, and so did I.

Independence inside a marriage is not disloyalty. It is wisdom.

Pick someone who can be wrong

A card from the shower said, “Watch how he acts when he is wrong. That tells you everything.”

Early in our marriage, Tom gave me bad directions and we were late to his cousin’s wedding. I waited for him to blame the map or the traffic. Instead he said, “That was my fault. I am sorry.” I remember feeling something settle in my chest. A man who can say that out loud is a man you can live with for decades.

I have watched my kids date people who could not admit a mistake. I worried every time.

Marry a person who can be wrong without making it your fault.

Hard seasons do end

The last card in the stack from the shower read, “Nobody told me that the bad years end. I would have been less afraid.”

Tom and I have had hard years. A year with a sick baby. A year of money trouble. The first year after the youngest left for college, when the house was so quiet I could hear the refrigerator. In the middle of each of those, I could not picture the other side. There was always another side.

I am sitting at my kitchen table now with a stack of index cards and a husband asleep on the couch with his socks on the floor. We made it through all of it.

Hard stretches end. Hold on through them and do not make big decisions in the middle.

I typed up all the cards for the bride and put them in a little booklet with a ribbon on it. I do not know if she will read them before the wedding or find them in a drawer in ten years. Either is fine. I think the women at that shower wrote those cards as much for themselves as for her.

Tom woke up while I was finishing and asked what I was doing. I told him I was typing up what women wished they had known before they got married. He asked if I had written anything about socks. I said not yet. He went back to sleep.

If you had been handed an index card at that shower, what would you have written?