You're still the one: Being a good husband

There’s nothing like a podcast to make you rethink your life choices. Recently, while listening to “Diary of a CEO with Steven Bartlett,” where James Sexton, a renowned divorce lawyer, was laying out some rather bleak statistics: a 75% marriage failure rate, through divorce or misery. It's the kind of fun fact that makes you reassess your life—or at least marriage as an institution.

It all brought me back to 1998 when Shania Twain’s "You’re still the one" echoed through the hall of our wedding. There's this line in the song: "They said 'I bet they’ll never make it'." I remember looking around at our guests, wondering who might be the betting type. Sexton’s assertion that 86% of people remarry within five years didn’t surprise me. Hope springs eternal, or maybe it’s just bad memory, much like having children. After all, I was doing exactly that, marrying again.

My first marital blunder the second time around was straight out of a sitcom. After our honeymoon, which was more of a ‘shelter from a storm in our apartment’ affair than a sunny escape, I decided to whisk my new bride 1500km back to my hometown for a “fantastic” business opportunity. Nothing says romance like uprooting your life for your spouse's startup dream, right?

In my hometown of East London, South Africa, my wife shifted from bewildered to bemused. I sometimes joke she cried upon arrival and departure; first, because it was nothing like her vibrant hometown of Cape Town, and later because she’d actually managed to find people who understood her husband’s peculiar ways.

I persuaded her to return to Cape Town a few years later when another enticing career opportunity beckoned, drawing us back to where we started—a move aimed at advancing my career. What is that saying attributed to Einstein, "crazy is doing the same thing over and over again and hoping for a different result"?

The turning point for me came unceremoniously. One ordinary day, my three-year-old daughter dropped a bombshell that detonated my workaholic bubble. "Daddy, are you going to visit us this weekend?" she asked. That was a gut punch; I lived there. Her words were a wake-up call louder than any alarm. I realized I was becoming a ghost in my own home. From then on, we discussed and agreed every move, New Zealand and then Australia. It most likely saved my marriage. The saying, "it's not you, it's me," really was true in this instance. It was me, and I had to change or end up being another statistic.

This epiphany sparked a transformation. I embraced the wisdom of Dr. John Gottman, who advocates for a 5:1 ratio of positive to negative interactions in marriage. This meant overhauling how we communicated. We adopted what Gottman calls "soft startups"—tackling tough conversations with kindness instead of confrontation. I’m aiming for 1000:1.

Let's not forget the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse of marriage: criticism, contempt, defensiveness, and stonewalling. I became particularly vigilant about not inviting these horsemen over for dinner. Instead, I found that a little self-deprecating humour and a lot of listening went a long way.

A trip to Denmark brought this home to me. We were enjoying a quiet meal when a nearby husband started scolding his wife over something trivial. The old me might have ignored it, but the new me couldn’t stand by. I intervened with what I hoped was diplomatic assertiveness (minus the unwelcome hand on his shoulder—note to self: no touching). It was a moment of realizing how far I’d come, not just as a husband, but as a man standing up for respect and decency. I just hope he learned something from the interaction and didn’t just go home and blame his wife.

Shania Twain's song "You're still the one" came back to haunt me years later when Mandy and I snagged tickets to her concert in the Botanical Gardens in Adelaide on December 2, 2018. What timing! My cardiologist had just scheduled me for mitral valve surgery the very next day. I figured I'd swoon to Shania before heading to the hospital. Not quite—the pre-op prep kicked off at 5pm on the concert day. Mandy, ever the supportive soul, wanted to skip the concert to be with me, but I insisted she go with a friend. During "You're still the one," she FaceTimed me, tears streaming down her face, perhaps realizing the gravity of the surgery. As an aside, if you're ever in for such a procedure and you're on the hairy side, I recommend a pre-hospital trim. The razors there aren't exactly top-shelf, and being shaved with blunt tools as your battery dies is an adventure in itself.

The National Marriage Project isn’t just a buzzkill; it points out that shared values and mutual goals are crucial for marital bliss. My wife and I learned to evolve together, discussing everything from parenting strategies to financial planning. And yes, we’ve even navigated the perilous waters of football allegiances—she wears a Manchester City T-shirt to bed on occasion, a hilarious gift from a friend of mine, and I bleed Manchester United red.

Dr. Helen Fisher suggests that long-term love is fuelled by novelty and emotional intimacy. We've taken this to heart by prioritizing holidays just for the two of us and embracing everyday affection, much to our children’s dismay.

After 26 years of marriage, it’s the small acts of kindness and the daily decision to choose each other that have made the difference. My wife surprised me with a bracelet inscribed with "You’re still the one" on my last birthday. It wasn’t just a piece of jewellery; it was a testament to our journey—a journey filled with mistakes, learning, and lots of laughter.

In the end, our marriage isn’t just surviving; it’s thriving. And if I had to bet on it all over again, I’d put everything on us making it. Not just because of what we’ve overcome, but because of how we’ve learned to laugh together—often at my expense, which, let's be honest, is plentiful.

At the end of the day—when all is said and done, and as I ponder the inevitable from my future deathbed—I won't be wishing I'd spent more time with my family or my wife. Why? Because I'm making darn sure I'm doing plenty of that right now. Are you seizing the day just as boldly, or does your diary need a bit of a shake-up?

Essential Tips for a Marriage That's More Boom Than Gloom:

• Champion Communication: Embrace Dr. John Gottman’s approach with "soft startups" and strive for a golden ratio of positive to negative interactions. Think of it as your relationship’s credit score: the higher, the better.
• Joint Adventures in Decision-Making: Make sure big life choices are ticketed events where both of you have VIP passes. Discuss and agree on all moves, whether it's a shift to New Zealand or just switching the brand of coffee. Unity in decisions prevents mutiny on the domestic front.
• Keep the Sparks Flying: Dr. Helen Fisher isn’t just whistling Dixie about novelty and emotional intimacy. Regular getaways for two (sans offspring) or just turning a regular evening into something special can reboot the romance.
• The Little Things Are the Big Things: Daily doses of kindness are the secret ingredients to a thriving marriage—much like the garlic in your spaghetti sauce; a little goes a long way and it makes everything better.
• Laughter Is the Best Medicine: Tackle life’s ups and downs with a good dose of humour. Laughing together not only eases the tension but might just make you both wonder why you were so worked up in the first place.