Modern life
Why marriage in middle-age is best
Marry young, repent at leisure! That’s what they’re saying now. Divorce rates are falling, and all because we’re waiting longer to tie the knot, according to the statistics. I can’t say I’m surprised. I married in my forties – too old if you want the family funpack, but the principle still holds good. Marry older and you know what you want, and what you’re getting.
This is the big advantage of leaving it later: you have a lot more information. How’s he doing in a job now it involves more than opening the mail? What’s the ratio of Actually Happening Now to Big Plans For the Future? Did he grow out of the disorganised, smelly phase, or not really? The longer you leave it, the easier it becomes to sort the genuinely cashstrapped bloke from the last up to the bar; the ambitious from the bull-------; the jokers from the psychos; and the people who don’t believe in birthdays and Valentine’s day (romantic gestures in general) from the ones who aren’t that into you.
Also, you are more likely (it’s not guaranteed, there are no signs that Kate Moss is there yet) to have got past the “Oooh, he looks like Keith Richards. He’ll do” stage.
Clearly, there are people capable of picking a life partner for their good character and compatibility, but not many of them are under the age of 26. You can
– I am able to confirm – still be mistaking selfobsession for charm, and emotional unavailability for depth well into your thirties. You’d be safer putting all your savings in customised marshmallows than marrying before you’ve got this sorted out.
All of the above are good reasons to marry older. The other big one is squashing the What If monkey. The divorce courts are rattling with couples, one or both of whom never quite shrugged off the suspicion that, had they held out a bit longer, their lives could have been very different.
The trouble with marrying young is that you never know what’s around the corner. But if you marry older you know exactly, because you’ve been around all the corners, twice, and behind doors and under some rocks.
The ones who are first off the blocks don’t have that certainty and they can’t help but wonder if they should have done a bit more before settling down. Marry later and you are never going to think “I missed out” because you didn’t, and now you are looking forward to limiting your freedom and opportunities.
Probably the best thing about marrying late, in my experience, was being given permission to stay in on a Saturday night watching TV. Being allowed to do absolutely nothing, whenever you want, in the company of someone else – I doubt you feel that if you marry in your twenties. You wouldn’t get any of the waves of relief and gratitude either, or quite such a kick out of telling your dad.
Some other good things about marrying later: your parents will be over the moon. You could bring home Jean-claude Juncker and they’d be thrilled to bits. You get to have a normal holiday honeymoon, and maybe take along some friends. You have a lifetime ahead of you but not ridiculous yawning tracts of time.
There are, of course, some downsides to marrying older. You won’t have a picture of the two of you crammed in a photo booth. There will be baggage. He may have to fork out for a brand-new morning suit (my husband was happily going to wear the one he wore to get married the first time around, but I calmly explained that this did not meet with my approval). And if you’re as old as I was there can be no wedding veil, or bridesmaids, and the only person interested in catching the bouquet will be your stepson.
But you know you did the right thing.
Leaving it later means that you know what you want and what you’ll be getting – and you can stay in on a Saturday night and watch TV ‘If you marry older you know what’s around the corner because you’ve been around all the corners, twice, and behind doors’