Wedding-Divorce Matters
Couples Therapy
Problems in marriage or romantic relationships are among the most common reasons people seek therapy. Often, the dilemma that emerges and fuels conflict within the relationship is whether spouses need to sacrifice themselves for the sake of the marriage or sacrifice the marriage for the sake of themselves. It seems as if one option cancels out the other, creating a distance that is difficult to bridge.
Commitment out of duty or out of love? A historical overview
In the past, the only socially acceptable path for the union of a man and a woman was the marriage contract. Its foundation was not the elevated feelings of love but primarily an economic transaction. Outside of marriage, there was no way for someone to secure the material basis for survival. For this reason, the dowry system was of utmost importance in this economic arrangement. In fact, the more substantial the payment, the easier it was for a woman to pass from one family to another.
Feelings were set aside and had only decorative value. Most of the time, they were considered an obstacle to lifelong commitment. Passion was scorned and seen as a hindrance to the resilience of the mutual bond in the face of future life challenges. At best, feelings of love were cultivated later, rather than at the beginning of cohabitation. In the majority of cases, love never knocked on the spouses’ hearts. Marriage functioned as an independent authority, separate from the will of the spouses. Trust between them was considered a given and came from outside—namely, from the law. The bond was unbreakable and allowed no turning back. Any attempt at individual pursuit beyond the institution was considered an unforgivable transgression and equated with betrayal. Marriage was certainly not intended for personal happiness but served as a safeguard for survival.
Depending on gender, marriage took on different meanings. For women, marriage was the most decisive moment of autonomy. It was the only ticket out of the parental home. They awaited it with the impatience of a prisoner meeting their liberator. For men, it was more like an anchor from which they could set out to face the wider world. For both genders, marital sexuality was primarily linked to reproduction—the birth of children. Long-term cohabitation did not require erotic pleasure.
A woman had to be sexually untouched before marriage. Without this attribute, she was not considered “wife material.” Within marriage, sex was merely the means for her to acquire the role of mother-nurturer and for her husband to assume the role of pater familias. The man, on the other hand, did not need to derive erotic pleasure from the confines of his household. Extramarital encounters were a socially acceptable outlet. Male infidelity, though not valued, was nonetheless tolerated. For this reason, encounters with women outside the home occurred with the silent acceptance of wives and were even considered a necessary complement to harmonious family life. Today, we live in a different world, where female virginity has lost its value, male infidelity and phallocentrism are less tolerated, and women are now ready to “take revenge” on men.
Over time, the safeguards of the marriage contract began to destabilize. As divorce entered the scene, it ended the legal coercion of the past. Previously, spouses did not divorce, but that did not mean they loved each other. Now, if one partner feels the other obstructs their personal development, separation is an option. The possibility of divorce is a tool of subjectivity. The de-sacralized institution of marriage began to deviate from the restrictive framework of confinement. At the same time, new and more effective contraceptive methods appeared. This largely led to the emancipation of sexuality from the marital bed.
Today, sexual relations are a prerequisite for entering a relationship with the intention of marriage—something that was not true in the past. This development, even if we now consider it obvious, brought major changes to the terms of commitment. We can now speak of relationships, whereas in the past relationships outside marriage were not recognized. Companionship is idealized. Both the possibility of divorce and effective contraception aligned with women’s reluctance to submit to male erotic dominance. Faced with these developments, both genders had to adapt and carve new, previously unexplored paths in the experience of relationships.
The terms of commitment in a relationship changed so radically that previous generations could not have imagined them even in their wildest dreams. Responsibility shifted from society to the individual. Now, it is not the law that provides guidelines but the desire for self-actualization and access to diverse experiences of pleasure. And to enjoy, one must be under the influence of erotic excitement. We have moved beyond the need for survival and seek a life partner. The god of the private sphere is love.
Duty toward society has been replaced by the desire to fall in love. Now we seek the golden mean between two pursuits: the security of a stable relationship on one hand and the adventure that fuels desire on the other. Once, such reconciliation between calmness and impulse was a contradiction. Marriage was a lifelong partnership guaranteeing stability. Today, we have not abandoned this search, but we also want our partner to be our closest and most trusted friend and simultaneously a passionate lover—and to experience all this twice as long thanks to increased life expectancy. We want everything in one, without half-measures or compromises. The desire for love opens each person to an inner dialogue: “How do I feel about the other, and how does the other feel about me? Are our feelings deep enough to support a long-term relationship?”
Through the transformations of personal relationships, a new model of commitment has emerged: the pure relationship. In this type of commitment, a relationship is not formed based on external reference points but solely on what each partner can derive from the other. Marriage now connects only the couple, not two families with their assets, property, and history as in the past. Each partner remains in the relationship only as long as they feel satisfied—and this must be true for both sides. This means such a relationship can end at any moment when at least one partner decides to leave and follow their own path. Simply put, either we get along and maintain the relationship, or we do not and we end it. After all, each partner has their own life.
This possibility may undermine the potential for duration. Each partner is obliged to live the relationship with personal risk. Thus, trust in commitment is no longer imposed from outside, as the law once did, but arises from within—from the relationship itself. What commitment means becomes a matter of negotiation. The commitment contract in a relationship has shifted from lifelong to renewable and must be continuously confirmed and renewed.
Commitment in a relationship is more authentic precisely because it can be revoked. Where coercion once dominated, negotiation now matters. Negotiation is more compatible with sexual equality, which today prevails as an ideology. For the first time, life with another person is not life for the other, as it once was. Each partner’s self is not completed solely through the relationship but also through personal ambitions that extend beyond it. Each person can engage in pursuits outside the relationship without necessarily feeling they are betraying it. How deeply or loosely one chooses to commit is a matter of personal choice.
To enjoy the shared good of the relationship, both partners must agree on these shifts. Trust is not self-evident nor permanently achieved; instead, it is constantly renegotiated. I also find myself in continuous negotiation with myself, as an inner contradiction emerges: should I fulfill my personal desires, goals, and pursuits, or maintain unity?
Thus, marriage is more exposed to the risks of love. Even if it hopes to last forever, everyone knows this is a pious wish that will eventually fade. Men and women demand more than ever and must become familiar with the idea of a couple with an expiration date. Does this not reflect the rising number of divorces? I am frightened by the demands I place on the other because I know they hold similar demands for me. I constantly reflect on what I gain from my relationship and whether I wish to maintain it. And I know the other reflects for the same reason. The risk of commitment grows larger, and trust becomes increasingly difficult.
Because taking a risk by pledging loyalty makes me dependent. And if I allow myself to surrender to commitment, I risk being left hanging. To protect myself from this threat, I adopt the idea that the risk does not concern me but the other. If the other suffers, it is their issue, isn’t it? They are not modern enough. This view is itself an enemy of love. If I am sufficiently prepared, I can dismiss the other as soon as I realize I am not receiving what I deserve from the relationship. Yet believing I need no one leads me to the sad realization that no one needs me. On one hand, I want to experience intense emotions; on the other, I fear abandoning myself. Each person must resolve these contradictions. The question is how—alone or together?
Couples therapy helps facilitate a genuine dialogue so partners can see the crisis they are facing from a new perspective, allowing new alternative possibilities to emerge.