When Life Throws Challenges at Your Relationship
Relationships are complex, beautiful, and messy all at once. You start with the best intentions, building a life together, imagining that nothing could come between you. But life has a funny way of throwing curveballs—especially in the form of other people’s drama, baggage, or, as I like to call it, their issues. Whether it sneaks up on you or hits you smack in the face, these external challenges can drive a wedge between you and your partner, sometimes coming with nails, super glue, or if you’re lucky, just Elmer’s glue.
Let me share with you a chapter from my own life that still feels fresh and oh-so-relevant.
The Uninvited Guests: Grief and Codependency
A year before this story began, I had to lay my beloved Shih Tzu, Gizmo, to rest. A year prior, we lost our Imperial Shih Tzu, Muggzy. They were incredible dogs, faithful companions who lived long and happy lives. But when Gizmo passed, the emptiness in the house was palpable, and I was beside myself with grief.
A couple of months later, a friend told me about a puppy her mother had gotten from a woman in town. Coincidentally, our daughter was in the market for a new dog, as the Jack Russell Terrier she’d previously bought wasn’t a good fit—likely due to emotional trauma from a past owner. So, off we went, my mother, my daughter, and I, to see this new litter of Maltipoos.
The moment I laid eyes on him, I was in love. He was a little male, tan and white, jumping up and down as if to say, “Pick me! Pick me!” And so, I did. We named him Bandit because, as we soon learned, he had a habit of stealing my husband’s glasses and earbuds.
But what I didn’t anticipate was how Bandit would become so completely and utterly codependent on my husband. The dog couldn’t do anything without him. If my husband left the house, Bandit would station himself downstairs, where he could keep an eye on the front, back, and garage doors—all at once—waiting anxiously for my husband’s return.
This left me feeling a bit…well, unloved. Bandit cried when my husband wasn’t around and followed him everywhere. My husband, who was initially amused, soon found it exhausting. Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. I had always been the one to train our dogs—first Patches, a smart and loving Jack Russell terrier mix we got from the pound; then Dazzle, a full-breed Jack Russell with the nickname “Crazy” because, well, she was. Dazzle was energetic, smart, funny, and playful, just as a Jack Russell should be. Gizmo and Muggzy followed, and they, too, were my little shadows. But Bandit? Bandit only had eyes for my husband.
Enter Harley Quinn: A New Kind of Chaos
Feeling a bit left out, I decided it was time for my dog—one who might give me the same kind of unconditional love that Bandit gave my husband. That’s when Harley Quinn came into our lives. She was just eight weeks old, a Havanese and Shih Tzu mix, smart as a whip, and crazy as could be. We’ve always kennel-trained our dogs, but Harley had other ideas. She barked incessantly in a high-pitched tone that tested all of our sanity—Bandit’s included. The poor thing drooled refused to eat, and had blowouts and vomited in his kennel, all because of Harley’s nonstop wailing.
The weekend she turned nine weeks old, we decided to keep our granddaughter overnight. She’s adorable—cute, smart, funny, and strong-willed, just like Harley. You can probably guess how this weekend went. Saturday night, Harley barked for three straight hours. By the morning, she had worked herself up so much that she pooped all over her kennel. My husband was less than pleased.
While I bathed Harley, he started making breakfast. Our granddaughter requested pancakes and, like a typical kid, refused to eat most of her food after asking for eggs and bacon too. Meanwhile, Harley decided to pee on my expensive rug and later the carpet in our room. This was the last straw for my husband, who was also dealing with a sick family member who needed help due to health insurance negligence.
In one weekend, every possible frustration converged. Both of us were on edge, snapping at each other, raising our voices—completely overwhelmed. This, my friends, is when the wedge can start to form. It’s the moment when someone has to decide to step back from the ego dialogue that tells us our feelings or emotions are more important than the relationship itself. This is when you decide whether you’re going to let the wedge—be it nails, super glue, or Elmer’s glue—drive you apart, or whether you’re going to pull it out together.
The Reality of Long-Term Relationships
Our 34-year relationship and 29 years of marriage are far from the picture-perfect ideal that people sometimes believe. Our love and relationship are a culmination of grunt work, diligence, respect, laughter, frustration, concern, and a willingness to not always be right. Most importantly, it’s grounded in our relationship with God. And that, dear readers, is one weekend in the life of our marriage.
But the lesson here isn’t just about dealing with a crazy puppy, an anxious dog, or a strong-willed grandchild. It’s about recognizing the times when life’s external pressures threaten to pull you and your partner apart and choosing to fight for your connection.
Keeping the Challenges Out of Your Coupledom
When life’s challenges invade your relationship, it’s important to remember that you’re in this together. It’s not you versus your partner; it’s you and your partner versus the challenges. The next time life throws a curveball—or a weekend like ours—remember that the wedge doesn’t have to be permanent. It might sting, it might hurt, but with a little effort, a lot of love, and maybe even a bit of humor, you can pull it out and move forward, stronger than ever.
Exert from “Rewrite Your Marriage: Navigating a Lifetime Together” (2024) Roslyn A Brown, MA, LPC
