What I Learned in Therapy about Love, Marriage, and Relationships
By Mallory McPherson-Wehan
My parents got divorced when I was little. I don’t remember it being particularly traumatic. Then again, I was two years old. I had my fair share of Parent Trap moments over the years, but I liked my step parents. I loved getting gifts from four people (plus all of their families!) for the holidays and felt satisfied with the amount of love I had in my life. I generally existed in the world without the weight of divorce on my mind.
Growing up, there were times that I thought my parent’s divorce should weigh on me more. Sometimes I tried to get it to bother me; if I were on the Bachelor I would use their divorce as my sob story, except that I don’t think I’ve ever actually cried about it. Maybe it didn’t bother me because most of my friends had divorced parents, or because my parents were generally civil and friendly to each other. All I know is that I didn’t spend a ton of time analyzing my parent’s divorce or the impact it had on me.
As I got older, I learned more about their divorce -- in tiny bits and pieces. Hearing the background gave me much more insight into their views on love, relationships, and marriage. It wasn’t until my loving relationship with Ryan that I realized how much I’d actually internalized their beliefs.
I want to stop here for a second. My parents never meant to impact my views on marriage, love, or relationships in the way they did. I am prone to anxiety, worry, and fearfulness so I’m sure my anxious little brain took their words and ran with them. In fact, I think some of the advice my parents gave me on relationships would be super helpful for someone who isn’t a worst-case-scenario thinker (ironically, I’m also an optimist!).
It was about a year into my relationship with Ryan before I realized that I had never viewed myself as someone who would be married forever. Maybe it was because I was a child of divorce, or maybe I just looked at the marriage statistics and felt they weren’t in my favor. Either way, my self-perception was that I would be divorced some day.
So you can imagine the mental gymnastics when I met this sweet, thoughtful, handsome, witty guy named Ryan and thought “I could definitely marry this man.” I didn’t want to get divorced. I didn’t want to be married for two decades, outgrow each other, and lovelessly separate. I didn’t want to have kids and leave them having to lug their clothes in suitcases back and forth to two different houses.
Our relationship questioned the deeply held beliefs my anxiety had grasped onto. All of the small things my parents had said in passing -- “I’m so glad I waited until my 30’s to get married” “I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted in my 20’s” “Don’t marry a Catholic” (ok that one I made up, but my dad may have said that. Not entirely out of character) -- stuck with me. Every divorce, breakup, and loveless marriage I heard about fit my narrative. I wouldn’t be married forever, which meant I wouldn’t get a forever with Ryan. It felt final and non-negotiable.
The first time I voiced these feelings to Ryan did not go well. I didn’t explain it particularly clearly and he took it very personally. I could tell I hurt his feelings. Our conversation was the catalyst for finding a therapist. I didn’t want to lose Ryan, much less hurt his feelings, so I did some research and found a clinic that aligned with my values and needs.
The first few sessions of therapy focused on my views of love, marriage, and relationships. I tried to identify where my beliefs about love came from and how I could stop this vicious and unhelpful narrative in my head that I would not be in a successful marriage.
Therapy was uncomfortable, liberating, and emotional. Admitting that I wasn’t sure I deserved a lifetime of love wasn’t an easy pill to swallow. The stigma around therapy also made me question the labels I’d given myself -- like “emotionally stable” and “well-adjusted.” Could I still be those things and need therapy? The answer, I decided, was yes.
After every therapy session, Ryan and I sat down and discussed it. At first, Ryan was still tentative and defensive during the conversations. Once it became clear that my concerns had nothing to do with our specific relationship, he became much more comfortable listening and validating my feelings. We talked about how to choose each other every day. We talked about our differing views of marriage, unconditional love, and divorce. We talked about our upbringing, our parents, and how they shaped our views and beliefs.
The main lesson that I’ve learned during therapy, my conversations with Ryan, and discussions I’ve had with my parents is that I am an active participant in my life. I will not live the exact same life as my parents. I get to choose what my life looks like. This isn’t to say that my parents do not have fantastic, happy lives. They do. They are very happy. It’s just that I don’t have to live the same lives as them. I can get married in my 20’s and have a happy, fulfilling, loving marriage that does last. Or I can not. The choice is mine.
I still have more processing to do, but I feel good about where I am. I’ve started to create a new narrative in my head about love, one that isn’t rooted in anxiety, ego, and fear. I deserve the love that I get from Ryan. I deserve the love I get from myself. I get to choose that perspective every day.
