R.E.S.P.E.C.T
Love gets you started. Respect is what keeps you walking.
My wife and I were sitting back, laughing and reminiscing. The conversation gently led us to our marriage—where we are now, versus when we had just arrived in each other’s lives. We hit thirty years of doing life together (23 married) very soon. She was 14, and I was 15 years old—just two kids in love—no real plan, though if you had asked us then, we would have told you it was all under control.
We were just taking life as it came to us, and it was a wild ride. A lot of mistakes were made. You couldn’t tell us anything; we lived every day on our terms—even when those terms made life messy, painful, and confusing.
We have come within inches of ending our marriage over some of the pettiest topics. Some of our fights were so heated you would have thought we were two enemies drunk on revenge.
Not many thought we would last. To be honest, there were several times I was unsure as well. But here we are—30 years later. And not by accident.
As we were sitting there—kind of in amazement—my wife blurted out, “Respect, Chad! Respect got us here.”
We both looked at each other, eyes wide as we began grinning. There are so many different aspects to a marriage, and I don’t think you need just one thing. Rather, a plethora of different ingredients, all playing their own role in the success of the relationship. But every great dish has a key ingredient, the thing that makes it different—better, in its own right. Respect is our key ingredient.
Before I married my wife, her mother looked me square in the eyes and said, “Marriage is for grown folk, remember that, son.”
I nodded like I understood, but I didn’t—not really. She knew that if I chose to stay married long enough, I would gain a deep understanding of what she was telling me that day.
She knew that love’s “feeling” would wear off sooner or later. The weight of life would enter the picture. Personalities would collide. We would stand at the precipice of divorce more than once. The real question would be whether we chose to weather the storms together or abandon the commitment we made—not just to each other, but to ourselves.
Early in our marriage, my wife and I found ourselves arguing excessively. Anger had us trading insults back and forth. With each shortsighted remark, we dug ourselves deeper into a hole. The fights boiled down to a lack of respect on both sides.
Boundaries, requests that were clearly made, my wife and I showed little respect toward any of it. Little things began to compound—the pressure we created was palpable in our tiny apartment. Each of us only saw what we thought we needed/wanted. We loved each other; there was no doubt about that; it was a deeper issue.
The type of respect that a healthy marriage requires is not the same casual respect we give out of courtesy. It’s fully seeing your partner, in every season, and meeting them with understanding—even if you don’t agree. In my opinion, respect is equated to honor.
Being young, naive, and full of youthful hubris, we never really looked at our situation through the lens of respect—not fully, and in the areas where a high level of respect didn’t exist, that’s where the majority of our issues lived.
As I write these words about respect, I realize that our ability to honor one another comes from the early friendship we developed. Before marriage was a thought, we had built a genuine friendship; I loved her as a person. She is the most stunning woman I had ever laid eyes on—her radiance was an outpouring of the aura she held—her presence brightened spaces.
I wanted to be wherever she was, as often as possible. Our love was pure—true, but it had never been tested. It’s easy to say “I’ll never quit” or “Our love will withstand anything” when the ground underneath you is stable. The real test shows up in the storms.
Will you rise or fall?
Will you turn against one another, or work together?
Will you look back and laugh at the journey, or hold it with bitterness?
What makes the difference between five years and walking hand-in-hand until there’s no more life left to live is respect.
Respect when you’re tired.
Respect when you’re wrong.
Respect when the other person is at their worst, and you’re tempted to match it.
Respect that says, “I still see you,” even when the feelings have gone quiet for a season.
Respect through the constant decades of growth and change.
That kind of respect doesn’t always feel romantic. It’s a deliberate daily decision to honor one another—regardless. Sometimes it feels like a second job. But over time it becomes the thing that holds the whole structure up, and keeps you smiling when life is uncertain.
Thirty years in, I can say this with certainty: a happy marriage requires many ingredients, but none greater than respect.
Thanks for reading. Until next time, go be great.
Chad, this stopped me cold — especially the line about respect being what holds the structure up when life gets uncertain. Karen and I are closing in on 35 years together, and if you'd asked me at 25 what would carry us through, I'd have said love, without hesitation. It took me another decade or two to understand what your mother-in-law was telling you at the altar of that conversation: love gets you in the door, but respect is what keeps you at the table when you'd rather storm out of the room.
What struck me most was your line about "fully seeing your partner, in every season." That's the whole game, isn't it? Not agreeing with them, not even always liking who they're being in that moment — but still seeing them. Karen has been my Vision-Keeper for longer than I've had language for it, and the respect you're describing is exactly what makes that possible — she can hold a vision for our family I can't always see yet, and I have to respect that enough to trust it, even when it's uncomfortable.
Thirty years in for you, closing in on thirty-five for us — I don't think that's a coincidence that we're both landing on the same word. Grateful you wrote this. Go be great right back at you. Steve
Marriage has taught me that love does not always look like the picture we carried into it. Sometimes it is waking in the middle of the night just to make sure the little one is breathing well, staying in a conversation that feels draining because clarity matters, or witnessing parts of another human being the rest of the world may never see. My marriage will carry a different story from yours, as yours will from mine, but I felt your point about respect deeply. Respect is often what fills the cracks when feelings are tired, life gets loud, and two imperfect people are still learning how to meet each other. It does not make marriage flawless. It gives love somewhere steady to stand when the fantasy has worn away and real life has entered the room. Thank you for sharing this from thirty years of actually living it. 🤍