The best piece of marriage advice I've ever received
As told by lady in waiting, Helen Thermopolis.
The best dating advice I ever received was from Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement. No, I’m not kidding; it’s a great movie. Some1 might say, the best movie ever made. If there’s nothing else we can agree on, Julie Andrews supremacy forever. She is, and always will be, goals.
I remember watching Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement at a formative age. I must have been interested in boys at the time, because the movie premiered while I was in 4th grade, and I was already preparing my wedding vows by 3rd.
The movie’s filled to the brim with fun-filled games, hard-won romance and the joys and woes of womanhood. Sure, it’s meant for a young audience (it premiered on Disney Channel, so come on) but there’s one line, to this day, that’s always stuck with me.
About halfway through the movie, Mia’s mom, Helen, comes to visit her near-teenage daughter who is now pledged to be married to a complete stranger in 30 days. She must wed, says the court, or Mia will be forced to give up the Genovian crown forever. (*gasp!*) The drama, I know.
You can tell Helen is meant to be a minor character. We don’t see much of her before or after this scene, but as she steps in to give her certified motherly advice, her acute and kind words caught fourth grade me off guard:
“Being married is about being yourself, only with someone else."
I think it’s meant to be a comedic beat. Mia pauses for a moment and says “....thanks Mom,” and we’re all supposed to move on pretty quickly. But imagine fourth grade me, sitting absolutely stunned by such advice.
Be myself? I thought. With someone else? The sentiment felt preposterous, as I chewed on this advice I myself would surely soon need.
Maybe this all sounds obvious to you, dear reader, but I mean it when I say I’d never thought of it before. Of course, in hindsight, it all makes sense. How else will you go the next 10, 20, 50 years of marriage together if you’re planning on being someone else?
But I’m telling you in all honesty, the thought never occurred to me.
I guess, even at that point in my life, I always planned to be someone else. Someone more athletic. Prettier. Funnier. Skinnier. I wanted to make more people laugh, or be more liked, or honestly, just be good enough to fit into any social circle at that point. It had never occurred to me that being my own self might be the attractant. That I, alone, might captivate the right person.
I know it sounds silly and conspicuous these days; we’re in the era of telling boys and girls to be themselves. But practicing “self,” I think, is still an artform. I haven’t mastered it quite yet, if I’m being honest. It takes a lot to fully trust myself in the midst of others’ presence. I naturally ebb and flow with other (bigger) personalities, and I’m used to blending myself to other people, minimizing so I can get to know more of the other person than they can ever know of me.
It sounds heroic in some ways. Regrettable, the more I’ve tried it.
Because marriage – or really, any relationship – can’t be performative. Not in the long run. By nature, relationships let someone in. They let others know the real, home-y you. Which furniture you pick. Which dish soap you like most. They know how you make your bed and what irritates you about the mornings and how you react when the laundry isn’t done and something startles you awake at night. They see the good and bad, the colorful and crappy, the worst moments and most wonderful, and they accept you all the same. In your own home, there’s no room to be someone else. That’s the magic Helen’s getting at. In marriage, you’re allowing someone in to take up the places you’ve lived alone, entrusting them to live alongside and love you all the same.
No doubt, this takes practice, wherever you live. Whether dating, married, widowed, single, I think it takes practice to take up space. We’re all learning how to grow, and more than that, how to be.
German theologian, Meister Eckhart, once said in a quote I return to often: “So many people come to me asking how I should pray, how I should think, what I should do; and the whole time, they neglect the most important question, which is, how should I be?”2
Who are we apart from anyone else? Who are we when the lights are out, or when the phones are down, or when the door is locked? Do we like ourselves? Love ourselves? At the end of the day, can we simply be?
I think there’s a real beauty in knowing how to confront these questions. It’s another to begin how to practice. And it’s only then when we can be ourselves fully, that we can begin the practice of being ourselves, with someone else.
It took me awhile to embrace these wise words from Helen Thermopolis. It’ll probably take a lifetime more to perfect them. But whether or not I get married, or stay single, or end up joining a commune (don’t worry it’ll be a cool one, not a weird one) I’m grateful for its truth, and its permission to simply be.
Thank you, Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement. Julie Andrews supremacy forever.
It might just be me.
https://onbeing.org/programs/john-odonohue-the-inner-landscape-of-beauty/