Newlywed Life: Beyond the "Honeymoon Phase"
/EMILY JANARO
It has been about two months since my wedding and yet somehow, the time feels longer than the ten and a half months I was engaged. Whenever I mention to people that I’m recently married, many respond with the common cliche: “Oh, so you’re in the honeymoon phase!”
While smiling and nodding politely, I have found myself reflecting on the implications of that phrase. What does a “honeymoon phase” actually mean, and what do people imply when they use the expression?
I first experienced the term when my husband John Paul and I started dating during our undergraduate semester abroad in Rome. For obvious reasons, beginning a relationship in a foreign country was a whirlwind of excitement. There were endless date possibilities, weekend travel adventures, and beautiful churches on every street corner, in which we could pray about our budding relationship. It would be impossible to count the number of cappuccinos and gelatos we consumed during those three months.
And to top it all off, it was the very first relationship I had ever been in. I woke up at 5 AM every single morning because I was too excited to sleep. By all definitions, John Paul and I were in the “honeymoon phase” of our relationship.
Yet even then I remember the resentment when someone labeled our relationship in that way.
By being in a “phase,” did that mean it was only a matter of time before the phase would be over and we would not be “madly in love” anymore?
Were our current feelings immature and silly, prevailing only in the absence of major challenges that would test our relationship?
I didn’t think so.
Our relationship certainly changed when the semester ended and we faced a summer apart back in the States. John Paul and I lived an hour and a half apart--a distance closer than some couples have to navigate, though a lot further than adjacent apartment buildings in Rome. We learned the delicate art of texting and FaceTime without drowning in the muddy waters of miscommunication.
Eventually, we went back to school for our senior year; another great opportunity for quality time and deepening our relationship.Then we graduated and spent another year miles apart. He started a full time job while I lived with my parents to save money and take prerequisites for grad school.
I understand where the framework for classifying a relationship into phases comes from, because the external challenge of a long distance relationship was a drastically different experience than our carefree Rome semester. In addition, I have no problem with acknowledging the reality that the honeymoon vacation I took with my husband had an end date when we came back to the “real world” and started work and school again.
However, when people commonly use the term “honeymoon phase,” consciously or not, they assume the stereotype that hyper-romantic feelings of love will fade into a humdrum coexistence of bills, errands, and arguments. Date nights will hinge on rearranging work schedules or finding a babysitter. The thrill of newness is expected to disappear once the couple “gets used to each other.”
While movie love stories end with a honeymoon, our real life love story is just beginning with one.
I would much rather find out what is going to happen next than relive the comparatively short story leading up to our wedding day over and over.
Maybe as a newlywed in the “honeymoon phase” of my marriage, I am unqualified to predict that in 20 years, I will be just as in love with my husband as I am now. Maybe I’m naive; blinded by the newness of physical intimacy and constant companionship. Obviously no one can have complete certainty of what the future may bring. But to live in fear that it will all go away and lead to break up or divorce is the main attitude that I want to reject. The spark of our love for each other doesn’t have to die if we continue to nourish it and feed the flame. If we are so focused on the flame going out, we will forget to do anything to keep it alive.
We can feed that flame in countless little ways that add up over the course of our lifetime. I still feel a thrill of excitement when my husband texts me to ask how my day is going, even though I know I will see him again in a few hours. Seeing a note on the refrigerator saying “I made you coffee! Love, JP” makes me feel the same way I did when he first told me he loved me.
The little acts of service and affection that make up a marriage don’t get monotonous with time; on the contrary, they aggregate to create a relationship that is a combination of the flirty, childlike emotions and the deeper, more mature life experiences. JP and I are “getting used to each other” in the sense that there are a lot of new aspects of marriage. However, we are constantly discovering new things about each other and appreciating one another’s small daily sacrifices.
We were supposed to go to Rome for our honeymoon before the world pandemic hit, and we were pretty upset when those plans had to change. I had envisioned ten days of bliss, in which we would revisit all of our favorite places, go back to the restaurant where we had our first date, and probably get our marriage blessed by the Pope for good measure.
Maybe a dream honeymoon like this is what people are thinking of when they describe the honeymoon phase, or when they imagine the honeymoon that romantic comedy protagonists will take as they drive into the sunset. I’m sure people don’t imagine a road trip to Branson, Missouri--which is what we ended up doing (and it was perfect).
But if changing our plans taught us anything, it was that a love rooted in Christ defies all external circumstances.
It defies unreasonable expectations, the media’s idea of perfection, and any challenge that could possibly come our way during a lifetime of marriage. Jesus never promises that there won’t be hardships in a marriage.
Instead, He says, “In the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world” . His promise to walk with us, individually and with our spouses, through all the hardships of life, should reassure us that faithful, beautiful love is very much a reality. We have nothing to fear as a couple as long as we rely on each other and on God.
John Paul and I have a favorite country song called “Then,” by Brad Paisley, that sweetly captures this love that gets stronger with age. It describes a couple’s life from dating to engagement to parenthood and old age. At every milestone, he thinks that there is no possible way he could ever love his wife more than he does. Every subsequent time he proves his younger self wrong. He sings the refrain: “We'll look back someday, at this moment that we're in/ And I'll look at you and say/ ‘And I thought I loved you then.’ ” Those little moments of appreciation and self-gift keep adding up with time, until they realize their love has continued to grow--even when they thought they were in the honeymoon phase with the greatest amount of love possible.
It’s true: my husband and I are in this “honeymoon phase” of marriage, where the ups and the downs of life are awash with the rosy glow of newness. But rather than dreading the inevitable deterioration of our love, I can’t wait for whatever arbitrary “end” to the honeymoon phase that time may bring about, because I know our love will be transformed into a dazzling sunset by the end of our lives.
About the Author: An English major turned Physical Therapy student, Emily Janaro loves to write creatively on her breaks from studying how the human body functions. She married her best friend John Paul in August of 2020 and together they live in Virginia. They have every coffee-making appliance known to man, and enjoy hosting friends and family to share a cup of joe (or something stronger).