Marriage, Memes, and Middle-Aged Romance: A Valentine’s Reflection
Joshua Smith
February 12, 2026
This Valentine’s Day marks my 14th year of marriage. Fourteen years.
Now, I know there are folks out there reading this who’ve been married for 30, 40, even 50 years and are quietly chuckling to themselves, thinking, “Aw, that’s cute.” And I also know there are newlyweds reading this who are still holding hands in the grocery store and whispering about dinner plans like it’s classified information.
We, on the other hand—my wife Edith and I—are squarely in what I call the “Middle Ages of Marriage.”
Not quite the golden years of side-by-side rocking chairs and matching orthopedic shoes… but we’re also well past the stage where we pretend we enjoy sharing one milkshake with two straws. We're in that phase where sitcoms hit a little too close to home, and half the things we say to each other throughout the day begin with “Did you remember to—?”
It’s not glamorous, but it’s real. And honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
One thing I’ve learned—besides which drawer we now keep the cheese grater in (spoiler: not the one labeled "kitchen tools")—is that marriage is never a perfect 50/50 split.
People say that all the time, and it's true. Some days, marriage is 60/40. Other days, it’s 80/20. And every once in a while, it’s 99/1, when one person is barely holding it together, and the other is quietly carrying the load, feeding the kids, unclogging the sink, and remembering to pay the power bill.
And it flips back and forth without ceremony or scoreboard. Because if you're doing it right, marriage isn’t about being perfectly even—it's about being present, even when things aren't.
With three kids, jobs, a laundry hamper that always seems to be overflowing, despite the fact that the washing machine is always running, and a house that was clearly designed by someone who didn’t believe in storage, we've learned that love isn't always candlelit dinners and love notes tucked in lunchboxes. Sometimes, it’s a well-timed cup of coffee or just letting the other person vent without jumping in with solutions—or worse, logic.
After 14 years, I’ve made enough mistakes to know better, but I’m still young enough to make a few more. But what I do know is this: the goal isn’t to win. It’s to last. And preferably to laugh while doing it.
We’ve all seen those marriage memes floating around social media. You know the ones:
“Marriage is just two people taking turns asking, ‘What do you want for dinner?’ until one of them dies.”
“Love is telling your spouse, ‘Be careful,’ instead of ‘What in the world are you doing?’”
“My wife and I have a system: I fix things, and she tells me what I broke.”
I laugh at those, not because they’re absurd—but because they’re painfully accurate. They're funny because they’re true. And if you can’t laugh about the absurdity of trying to assemble IKEA furniture together, you might not make it to year 15.
But those memes also remind me how important it is to have a partner—not just for the jokes, but for the journey. Someone who shows up, who forgives your mistakes, and who will put up with your snoring without making you sleep on the couch. (Most of the time.)
Now, I know Valentine’s Day tends to get marketed as a couples-only holiday—roses, chocolates, overpriced dinners, awkward heart-shaped jewelry.
But I think Valentine’s Day has quietly evolved into something more meaningful. It’s become a reminder to show appreciation and commitment to the people in your life who matter—not just spouses and significant others, but friends, neighbors, coworkers, and yes, even your kids.
In a world that feels like it’s moving faster every year, where texts replace phone calls and digital likes try to stand in for real connection, there’s something powerful about pausing—just for a day—to say, “Hey, I see you. I appreciate you. You matter to me.”
Maybe that’s a note in your kid’s lunchbox. Maybe it’s checking in on a friend you haven’t heard from in a while. Maybe it’s letting someone cut in line at the post office without muttering about it under your breath (I said maybe). It doesn’t have to be big or expensive. Just thoughtful.
If you’re newly married, hang on. It’s going to be a ride. There will be days when you feel like you're living with your soulmate, and others when you wonder how one person can load a dishwasher so wrong. That’s normal. You’re not broken. You’re just married.
And if you’re one of the folks who’ve been married for decades, thank you. Seriously. You’re proof that it’s possible. You’re showing the rest of us what it means to keep showing up—even after all the firsts are behind you
Valentine’s Day isn’t about doing love “right.” It’s about loving daily. It’s about knowing who drinks coffee and who drinks green tea. It’s about picking each other up, letting each other rest, and doing the little things no one else notices. It’s about knowing what kind of day your partner’s had just by the way they close the door.
Love doesn’t always look like it does in movies. Sometimes it looks like charging the other person’s phone. Or keeping the car gassed up. Or making the kids’ lunches even though it’s not technically your turn. It’s small, consistent, and deeply rooted in care.
Love Out Loud
So this Valentine’s Day, whether you’ve been married 40 years, are single and thriving, or somewhere in between, let’s all find a way to show a little love. Not just the kind that comes in heart-shaped boxes, but the kind that makes someone feel seen and appreciated.
Call someone. Write a note. Do the dishes without being asked. Tell your kids you're proud of them. Leave a kind comment. Show up. And keep showing up.
Because in a world that desperately needs more patience, kindness, and compassion, real love still matters. And it’s worth celebrating.
Now, I know there are folks out there reading this who’ve been married for 30, 40, even 50 years and are quietly chuckling to themselves, thinking, “Aw, that’s cute.” And I also know there are newlyweds reading this who are still holding hands in the grocery store and whispering about dinner plans like it’s classified information.
We, on the other hand—my wife Edith and I—are squarely in what I call the “Middle Ages of Marriage.”
Not quite the golden years of side-by-side rocking chairs and matching orthopedic shoes… but we’re also well past the stage where we pretend we enjoy sharing one milkshake with two straws. We're in that phase where sitcoms hit a little too close to home, and half the things we say to each other throughout the day begin with “Did you remember to—?”
It’s not glamorous, but it’s real. And honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
One thing I’ve learned—besides which drawer we now keep the cheese grater in (spoiler: not the one labeled "kitchen tools")—is that marriage is never a perfect 50/50 split.
People say that all the time, and it's true. Some days, marriage is 60/40. Other days, it’s 80/20. And every once in a while, it’s 99/1, when one person is barely holding it together, and the other is quietly carrying the load, feeding the kids, unclogging the sink, and remembering to pay the power bill.
And it flips back and forth without ceremony or scoreboard. Because if you're doing it right, marriage isn’t about being perfectly even—it's about being present, even when things aren't.
With three kids, jobs, a laundry hamper that always seems to be overflowing, despite the fact that the washing machine is always running, and a house that was clearly designed by someone who didn’t believe in storage, we've learned that love isn't always candlelit dinners and love notes tucked in lunchboxes. Sometimes, it’s a well-timed cup of coffee or just letting the other person vent without jumping in with solutions—or worse, logic.
After 14 years, I’ve made enough mistakes to know better, but I’m still young enough to make a few more. But what I do know is this: the goal isn’t to win. It’s to last. And preferably to laugh while doing it.
We’ve all seen those marriage memes floating around social media. You know the ones:
“Marriage is just two people taking turns asking, ‘What do you want for dinner?’ until one of them dies.”
“Love is telling your spouse, ‘Be careful,’ instead of ‘What in the world are you doing?’”
“My wife and I have a system: I fix things, and she tells me what I broke.”
I laugh at those, not because they’re absurd—but because they’re painfully accurate. They're funny because they’re true. And if you can’t laugh about the absurdity of trying to assemble IKEA furniture together, you might not make it to year 15.
But those memes also remind me how important it is to have a partner—not just for the jokes, but for the journey. Someone who shows up, who forgives your mistakes, and who will put up with your snoring without making you sleep on the couch. (Most of the time.)
Now, I know Valentine’s Day tends to get marketed as a couples-only holiday—roses, chocolates, overpriced dinners, awkward heart-shaped jewelry.
But I think Valentine’s Day has quietly evolved into something more meaningful. It’s become a reminder to show appreciation and commitment to the people in your life who matter—not just spouses and significant others, but friends, neighbors, coworkers, and yes, even your kids.
In a world that feels like it’s moving faster every year, where texts replace phone calls and digital likes try to stand in for real connection, there’s something powerful about pausing—just for a day—to say, “Hey, I see you. I appreciate you. You matter to me.”
Maybe that’s a note in your kid’s lunchbox. Maybe it’s checking in on a friend you haven’t heard from in a while. Maybe it’s letting someone cut in line at the post office without muttering about it under your breath (I said maybe). It doesn’t have to be big or expensive. Just thoughtful.
If you’re newly married, hang on. It’s going to be a ride. There will be days when you feel like you're living with your soulmate, and others when you wonder how one person can load a dishwasher so wrong. That’s normal. You’re not broken. You’re just married.
And if you’re one of the folks who’ve been married for decades, thank you. Seriously. You’re proof that it’s possible. You’re showing the rest of us what it means to keep showing up—even after all the firsts are behind you
Valentine’s Day isn’t about doing love “right.” It’s about loving daily. It’s about knowing who drinks coffee and who drinks green tea. It’s about picking each other up, letting each other rest, and doing the little things no one else notices. It’s about knowing what kind of day your partner’s had just by the way they close the door.
Love doesn’t always look like it does in movies. Sometimes it looks like charging the other person’s phone. Or keeping the car gassed up. Or making the kids’ lunches even though it’s not technically your turn. It’s small, consistent, and deeply rooted in care.
Love Out Loud
So this Valentine’s Day, whether you’ve been married 40 years, are single and thriving, or somewhere in between, let’s all find a way to show a little love. Not just the kind that comes in heart-shaped boxes, but the kind that makes someone feel seen and appreciated.
Call someone. Write a note. Do the dishes without being asked. Tell your kids you're proud of them. Leave a kind comment. Show up. And keep showing up.
Because in a world that desperately needs more patience, kindness, and compassion, real love still matters. And it’s worth celebrating.
Three Ages of Marriage
Have a story?
Let's hear it!
(802) 757-2773
(603) 787-2444
news@thebridgeweekly.com
