Benjie Goodhart is in his late 30s, adores his partner and has a young son. But the thought of marriage has paralyzed him with fear. And it’s all thanks to his parents’ perfect marriage. Benjie Goodheart felt the pressure of wanting an idealized version of his parents’ relationship.
According to Christine Northam, a relationship counselor with Relate. "It’s like having a terribly clever elder brother at school—it sets a competitive standard," she says. "It’s a normal anxiety about a big change, and you’ve got the added pressure of wanting an idealized version of your parents’ relationship. "It seems such anxiety is not uncommon. "As much as it’s hard to cope with parents being imperfect, cheating, splitting," says therapist Tracey Cox, "it is sometimes harder to be presented with the ideal happy marriage." Avy Joseph is a cognitive behavioral therapist and founder of CityMinds. "It’s quite common for people to put pressure on themselves," he says, "if they’ve grown up in an environment where, in their view, things have been perfect. "
Overcoming these fears involves accepting your marriage may not be perfect, but if it isn’t you will cope. Just because something isn’t perfect doesn’t mean it’s worthless. And if your marriage ends in divorce, it doesn’t define you as a failure. "Your own worth isn’t dependent on the success of your marriage," says Joseph. Working at Relate, Christine Northam knows no marriage is perfect. "I don’t know anybody who is 100% happy with their marriage. Most marriages go through ups and downs. You’re idealizing it. You have a false impression of what real marriage is like. Most married people hate each other at times, frankly. You can’t be perfectly in love all the time." So marriage is not the happy ending of the fairy-tales. I love the fact that, 44 years after they married, my parents still hold hands, make each other giggle, and tease each other. But they would doubtless balk at the idea that their marriage is perfect. Mum suffers from terrible vertigo, yet Dad persists in taking enormous detours every holiday through a mountain range. Dad could spend a week looking at a ruined church, whereas Mum could do the Acropolis in five minutes flat. Hundreds more took place along the recurring themes of what time to leave for the airport (Mum, six hours before a flight; Dad, six minutes), how to pour a drink (Mum, fill a large glass to the brim; Dad, quarter-fill a thimble) and how best to pass leisure time (Mum, bulk-buying from catalogue companies; Dad, reading every column inch of the newspaper).
They aren’t perfect. They just love each other enough to deal with the imperfections. As Cox says: "What they are good at is having faith, loving each other and finding compromises to make them both happy. No one breezes through (marriage) without working at it." And yes, I would hope to have a marriage as successful as theirs. But I know it will take some work. I’m ready for that. I finally got down on one knee this year. After waiting for the perfect romantic moment, I realized it would probably never come. I had prevaricated long enough. So I asked her on the spur of the moment, while I was unpacking the shopping from the car, with Wendy in a bath towel standing in our driveway asking why I’d put Fred in the boot of the car (he’d insisted) while he banged on the rear windscreen, pronouncing loudly about his latest fecal production. The proposal wasn’t on a moonlit beach or over a candlelit dinner, but slap bang in the minutiae of everyday life, in alt its hilarious, glorious ridiculousness—and because of the person she is, Wendy loved it. And so it is that I find myself marching towards my impending nuptials, eyes wide open, resolve secure, safe in the knowledge that I am punching well above my weight with the woman who will be my wife. Benjie and Wendy were married last Saturday.
Benjie Goodhart is afraid of being married because______.