When Idris* (32) got married a year and seven months ago, he thought he was stepping into the love story he’d always dreamed of. But between his parents’ example, the grief of losing a past partner, and the realities of remote-work marriage, he’s still asking himself what “being in love” should feel like inside a marriage.
In this week’s Marriage Diaries, he shares how marrying his friend brought stability, why he sometimes feels guilty about not being deeply in love yet, and the small, practical ways he and his wife are learning to build intimacy.
This is a look into Idris’ marriage diary.
Got a marriage story to share? Please fill the form and we’ll reach out.
I grew up wanting a love like my parents’
I’ve always been a sucker for love. Long before I got married, I imagined that once I fell in love, I’d recreate all the soft, mushy things I saw in movies or read in books. But I didn’t just build my expectations from fiction; I saw it at home.
My parents were the OG loverboy and girl. My dad always told us we were important, but not as important as his wife. I hated that statement as a child because it sounded careless. Imagine hearing your dad tell you you’re not the most important thing in his life. But as I grew older and watched all of us move out of the house, I understood. Now, it’s just the two of them again, and their bond is still solid. If my mum had been hyperfocused on us children, ignoring my dad, what would they have now?
That was the model of marriage I held onto. I wanted a wife I could spoil endlessly, someone I’d keep choosing over and over again, even above our children. Marriage, to me, was supposed to be joyful, romantic, and filled with gestures that left no doubt about love.
The biggest surprise is that I’m not sure if I’m in love
Here’s the hard truth: I really, really like my wife, but I sometimes wonder if my feelings have crossed over into deep love.
We met after NYSC. At the time, I’d just come out of the most devastating experience of my life. I’d been with another woman for about eight years and thought we’d spend the rest of our lives together. Then she died. That grief shook me. I stayed single for a long time afterwards because I didn’t believe I could ever replace her.
By the time my wife came along, I’d healed and moved forward. We started as friends, then began dating. A little over a year later, we got married. It felt right because we felt ready and both wanted to take the next step.
But here’s where I struggle. With my ex, I knew what it felt like to be deeply in love. I don’t pine for her, and I don’t wish she was still here — that chapter is closed. Yet, I haven’t felt that same depth with my wife. I sometimes feel guilty about this. Outwardly, I do everything to show love. I throw the word around, I plan surprises, I show up. She would never say I don’t make her feel loved. But inside, I question if I’ve crossed from “deep like” to “deep love.”
Maybe it’s because we’ve only been together for three years total. I believe my answer might be different in ten years. Still, for someone who always pictured a marriage overflowing with love, this reality keeps surprising me.
Remote work nearly turned us into roommates
Nobody warned me about how remote work could strain a marriage. My wife and I both work from home. At first, we thought it was a blessing because we could spend more time together. But reality hit fast.
When I lived alone, my routine was simple: wake up, clean up, sit with my laptop all day, and only eat when hunger struck. Sometimes, I didn’t leave my flat for days. After marriage, I kept the same habits.
Soon, our life together felt mechanical. We were in the same house 24/7 but hardly connected. We’d exchange words about food or bills, then collapse into bed at night. We’d become like roommates, not lovers.
It took me consciously observing us to see how far off this was from the kind of marriage I wanted. I decided to make small changes — taking breaks to hug her, chat randomly, or share a laugh. It wasn’t easy because meetings and deadlines pile up, but those little gestures changed the rhythm of our home. She noticed and started doing the same. Now, even though we still work from home, it feels like we’re more present with each other.
I’m still a loverboy, even when the spark feels different
If you ask me whether marriage has made me lose myself, I’d say no. I’m still the loverboy I’ve always been. I plan surprises, buy gifts, and do mushy things just to make her feel loved. And she does feel loved.
The struggle is internal. I crave a spark; the exact click I once felt with my ex. Maybe people are right when they say you can’t recreate the same magic twice. What I have now is different, but it’s still something I cherish deeply. I think being with my wife constantly reminds me I’ve recreated the kind of joyful, steady partnership I admired in my parents. It may not look like the fairytale version I once imagined, but it’s still beautiful in its own way.
I had to learn my wife’s love language
Because I’m so expressive, I expected my wife to mirror that. At first, I was frustrated when she didn’t. I’d plan elaborate surprises — like a five-course dinner to make her feel special — and while she appreciated it, she didn’t respond in the same way.
I used to think she wasn’t appreciative until marriage revealed her love language. She’s the type who shows love through support and provision. I’ll never forget when she randomly transferred ₦100k after I mentioned being broke. I thought it was a mistake, but she insisted it wasn’t. Another time, I needed money for a project, and she quietly offered to help.
I eventually realised she loves by saving and stepping in when her loved ones are in need. For her, it’s about making sure we never lack. Understanding this has helped me appreciate that she expresses love differently, not less.
Got a marriage story to share? Please fill the form and we’ll reach out.
Love isn’t the main character in marriage
I don’t believe love alone sustains a marriage. People experience love in different degrees — that doesn’t mean they’ve settled or value their partner less. Beyond love, you need a partner who’s kind, trustworthy and committed to building a life with you. You need someone who’ll choose you in the small, unglamorous ways.
If those things are there, maybe the love grows deeper with time. And if it never looks like the kind of love you expected, the marriage can still stand. I think of my parents often, not the words they said, but how they stayed. I wanted to replicate their romance; what I’m learning to replicate is their commitment.
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.
Click here to see what other people are saying about this article on Instagram
