[I officiated at the wedding of two amazing people. Here’s the text.]
Emily and Ioannis are in love. I’m glad you love each other. That’s nice. But what really warms my heart is the fact that you like each other. This is a good foundation.
Dear Friends, we are here today to celebrate the marriage of Emily and Ioannis. Emily, Ioannis, and I know each other from psychology, and that’s the lens we use for understanding the challenges and rewards of marriage.
As psychologists, we recognize that each of you has become an important source of reinforcement for the other—you’re like a lever and the other person is a pigeon (I almost said rat, but it’s your wedding). And we also recognize that it is natural and unavoidable that each of you should try to control such an important source of reinforcement. If the best thing in the world were the last pint of ice cream, you’d keep that ice cream under lock and key, and you might get upset if the ice cream told you that it thought the freezer was too cold. You might want to keep in mind that your efforts to control each other, should they succeed, would actually wreck the reinforcers you receive, and this thought might help you check your efforts to control your beloved. Because neither of you wants to get a kiss or a wink or a smile if it comes to you from someone you control. Whereas with ice cream, who cares whether the ice cream is a willing participant? So when you are frustrated with each other, keep in mind that whatever the other person is doing to frustrate you is a good thing. It is the basis for enjoying what they do that doesn’t frustrate you—your frustration is your proof that you don’t control your spouse.
From systems theory we recognize that the form and tone of speech, the relationship implied between speaker and listener, are at least as important as its content. So talk to each other as if the other person is someone you are in love with, someone who is in love with you, someone you like. You could jointly monitor your speech and behavior so that you are speaking as a friend speaks to a friend, as a spouse speaks to a spouse. Keep sounding the right notes and you’ll keep playing the right tune.
Cognitive science also offers some assistance. If you start to think you’re a better spouse than your other half, keep in mind that you are aware of every little thing you do around the house, for your partner, and for the relationship—and you are also aware of every little thing you refrained from doing that would have burdened your spouse or the relationship—whereas you have direct evidence of maybe a tenth of your spouse’s good deeds. Adjust your perception accordingly.
We also recognize that human beings get into trouble sometimes when they interpret the behavior of their beloved with old maps. Each of you is unique, and not a manifestation of some figure from the other person’s past. When Ioannis offers to help, he isn’t thinking that you’re incompetent, he just likes to help you. When Emily decides to rearrange the furniture, it doesn’t mean she wants to rearrange YOU.
It’s important that you should be not just marital partners, but also teammates. That means you put on performances together, and when you perform for each other, you let the other in on what’s going on backstage. In other words, don’t get in a huff—you get in a huff with your spouse, whom are you performing for? And don’t act angrier than you are to make points on a non-existent scoreboard. Give up status for relatedness and you will be happy.
When people are dating, they look after their appearance, get in shape, engage in interesting activities, and try to be witty: why not keeping doing that while married? I mean, marriage should be a place to loosen your belt and kick off your shoes, but you can also gear up for a good conversation. Don’t tell stories your spouse has already heard. Get gussied up once in a while. This will be easier if you don’t have to spend every minute with each other. In other words, don’t get used to each other. Remind yourselves—and sure, why not—remind each other how lucky you are.
Let’s be grownups and talk about – indoor sports – you know, Scrabble. When you first get married, Scrabble is all 7-letter words and triple letter scores. After a while, the board gets filled up and it’s hard to find a space to make an exciting move. What you need to do at this point is to start making up words. The thrill you’ll feel is not the same as placing your Z next to your partner’s X, but it will still be a thrill. You’ll be atwitter about whether your partner will accept your invention or challenge it. And if you really want my advice, don’t play Scrabble with anyone else. In fact, I would advise against any kind of word games with other people. Every couple needs a few activities they do only with each other. Some couples get into trouble when one person wants to play Scrabble and the other one doesn’t. I’m sure you’ll come up with your own solutions when this happens, but you might want to consider the “rain check” idea, where the person who doesn’t want to play promises to play within the next two days. Or, the person who doesn’t want to play can suggest a shorter, less involving word game. Hangman.
Existential crises and periods of low self-esteem can be ridden out much more easily if you have faith in your marriage. As you know from being such good clinicians, it’s easier for people to have faith in a relationship if the other person is steadfast, affectionate, and honest. Remove the log from your own eye (yes, I’m quoting the Bible, but after all I am a minister)—remove the log from your own eye before helping your partner with the speck in theirs. In other words, instead of questioning the other person, ask yourself if you are being steadfast, affectionate, and honest.
Love the flaws. When you are frustrated, judge the whole package: because you’re both wonderful people, this should be easier than for some couples.
You asked for some Janna stories—Janna is my wife—so I’ll tell you one. I bought us– and by us I mean me—a set of nonstick pots and pans, explaining to Janna, who has a genius for vitality but a mild learning disorder regarding the dishwasher, that the new cookware would be ruined unless washed by hand. Whenever I see the nonstick cookware in the dishwasher, I not only refrain from getting annoyed, I get a mild charge of gratitude. Love each other’s faults. I feel gratitude because I know that the view of the world that keeps her from taking care of these objects is the same view of the world that has never, not once, led to her putting pressure on me to buy her something. In Janna’s world, objects are worth only what meaning their interpersonal histories acquire. Nonstick cookware in the dishwasher means that I never have to worry about whether I am making enough money to make her happy.
Last year on Mother’s Day, I wrote a card to Janna’s mother that said, “If you’re such a good mother, why doesn’t she check her pockets before putting her pants in the laundry?” Janna’s mom wrote back (and this is a lesson for the in-laws)—Janna’s mom wrote back, “She was perfect when I handed her over to you.” I don’t know yet what terrific quality of Janna’s is manifested in the tiny shreds of Kleenex I have to pick off my clothes, but I’ll figure it out.
We know that culture affects relationships. Ioannis believes that knowledge is pain. It’s a Greek thing. Emily believes that knowledge is power. It’s an American thing. This is the kind of conflict you don’t need to resolve—just find a practice that meets both people’s needs. In this case, for example, the solution is simple: Emily shouldn’t share information with Ioannis. You can learn from each other’s cultures. Call it Dionysian revelry instead of getting wasted, and you’ll feel better about yourself tomorrow morning.
There are a lot of happy lives you could lead. There are adventure films, and documentaries about changing the world or making other people’s lives better, and dramas of growth and discovery. Consider, both of you, the possibility of living a love story, of making your lives into one long love story—or better still, a romantic comedy.
In closing, I would offer you a benediction, in all seriousness. What you are doing today is the most ordinary thing in the world. Two people meet, fall in love, make a commitment before their families and friends. Really, commonplace. It happens every day. May you always find magic in the ordinary.
Michael Karson, Ph.D. 
Lovely! Helpful AND funny.