*Dasola, 33, got married in 2020. She expected a smooth transition into a fairytale life with the man she loved. Four years in, she’s realising that love isn’t enough. Sacrifice, self-awareness, and compromise are the true foundations of a solid marriage.
This is a look into Dasola’s marriage diary.
Reality came a bit early
I always imagined marriage would be soft, picture-perfect, and easy — like the romcoms I grew up watching. The wife wakes up early, makes breakfast in a spotless kitchen, the kids come down beaming, and the husband kisses her before heading out. That image stayed with me for a long time.
But when I got married in 2020, reality came knocking fast. I still loved my husband just as much; that hadn’t changed. But I quickly learned that marriage isn’t just about two people. It’s about two families. And blending them — especially his — was something I hadn’t emotionally prepared for.
For our first Christmas together as a married couple, we traveled to spend the holidays with his family. They were warm and accommodating, but I still felt like an outsider. I wasn’t their daughter, sister or cousin. I was the new wife; pleasantly received, but not fully plugged in.
I realised I’d always have to celebrate special holidays with his family, which meant giving up the familiar traditions I’d built with mine. I still struggle with this sometimes. There are years when all I want is to be with my mum and siblings during the festive period, but marriage — and now, motherhood — have forced me to think beyond my desires.
Nobody warned me that I’d miss my mum this much
The first time I really questioned whether I was ready for marriage was just days after our wedding. I’d always been extremely close to my mum. She helped with the wedding preparations, and I was just super excited. But the moment I started packing my things to move into the house I’d now be calling “home,” it hit me. This was it. I was leaving everything behind.
During that first week, I cried almost every night. I couldn’t just decide to visit my family without telling someone first — not because my husband was controlling, but because marriage comes with an unspoken shift. You don’t just move your own way anymore; every decision, even the small ones, now includes someone else.
Eventually, my husband noticed how much I missed my family and how withdrawn I was. Maybe he could tell I was grieving something — my old life. He started driving us there to visit on weekends when he had free time. It helped, but it didn’t erase the internal shift I was going through. I wasn’t just learning to live with someone. I was learning to let go of the life I’d always known.
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I wasn’t prepared for his libido, and how he preferred his “thank you”
One thing nobody prepared me for? Sex in marriage. I know people say communication is key, and we did talk about intimacy before marriage, but conversations can only go so far.
My husband has a higher libido than I do. He could go multiple rounds a week and still be ready. Me? I could go months without feeling the need, and I’d be fine. It didn’t mean I loved him less; it just wasn’t how I experienced connection.
In church, they always say things like, “Don’t deny your husband. I internalised a lot of that. But real life isn’t a sermon. There were moments I gave in out of obligation, which created quiet resentment I didn’t know how to name at the time. Eventually, we had to talk — not just once, but over and over — until we found a rhythm that respected both our needs.
Another area we clashed was gratitude. When he buys me a gift or does something special, I say “Thank you” and move on. I mean it; I just don’t dwell on it. But I noticed he’d wake up the next day a bit off. It took a while, but I realised he was raised in a household where appreciation wasn’t a one-time thing. He expected ongoing praise — like, keep thanking me for a few days so I know you really appreciate it. It sounded ridiculous at first, but when I understood where he was coming from, I started being more intentional. Now, when he does something for me, I make sure to circle back with more love and gratitude, not just in words but in small gestures.
I don’t like how I look anymore. It’s the hardest bit to admit
Marriage has changed how I see myself, especially physically. I’ve had two kids, and I honestly don’t like how I look anymore. My body feels like a version of myself I didn’t sign up for, and it’s hard to say that out loud without sounding ungrateful. I love being a mum. I love my kids. But I miss myself.
I used to have big career dreams, but those have taken a backseat. While my husband works a 9–5, I’ve had to take up business ventures that give me flexibility to manage the home and raise our kids. It wasn’t part of the plan — I wanted to be in corporate. But life shifted, and I adjusted. Some days, I feel like I’ve hit pause on the version of me I was supposed to become.
I don’t know how long this pause will last, but I want to believe there’s still time to become that version of myself. The one that’s not just “mummy” or “wife,” but a full woman again — with her own identity, not just roles to play.
Love isn’t enough. Empathy is what holds us together
If I could tell my unmarried self anything, it’d be this: Marriage is overwhelming. There are truths your mother won’t tell you, things you’ll have to learn the hard way. If I had the chance, I’d have used my single years better and done more for myself. Because once marriage starts, your life isn’t just yours anymore.
One of my biggest compromises is putting my career on hold. It wasn’t easy, and it still isn’t. But I know it’s worth it when I see how present I am in my children’s lives and how much we’ve built together as a family. Still, it’s a choice that came with its own grief.
People think love will carry you through marriage, but love isn’t enough. There are days when what you feel isn’t love, it’s irritation, anger, even hate. But empathy helps you stay. When you see your partner not just as a spouse, but as a human being with flaws and struggles, it softens you. You forgive faster. You try harder.
And maybe that’s the real secret to staying married: not just love, but the daily decision to see each other as people first.
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