Hannah* (33) grew up reading romance novels and dreaming of a fairytale marriage. But almost five years in, she’s realising that building a home — especially with a child in the mix — is far messier than the stories ever warned her.
In this week’s Marriage Diaries, she talks about parenting with someone who doesn’t always agree with her, rethinking her idea of “perfect love,” and how raising a child has tested even the most beautiful parts of her marriage.
This is a look into Hannah’s marriage diary.
Got a marriage story to share? Please fill the form and we’ll reach out.
I grew up thinking marriage would be a fairytale
It’s funny because I was raised by a single mum, and I didn’t exactly grow up around examples of what marriage should look like. But still, I believed in the idea of a perfect love story. My prince charming would find me, we’d get married, have beautiful kids, make money and just live happily ever after.
I held on to that image all the way until university. But dating changed everything. The guys I met weren’t giving fairytale. I kept waiting to feel like I’d found “the one,” but there was something off each time. That was the first reality check. Maybe the version of love I’d read about wasn’t real.
Looking back now, I blame the romance novels and Hollywood. I was obsessed with them. You’d read all these descriptions about kissable lips, chiselled shoulders and perfect chemistry. The happy endings always looked effortless. So yes, fiction did a number on me. I was convinced love would be sweet and easy. It’s not.
No one warned me that parenting in marriage would be this hard
I’ve always loved being married to my husband, but the one thing that’s made me question if I was ready is parenting. From the very beginning, we disagreed. He wanted a child in our first year of marriage, and I wasn’t ready. I felt we needed more time to be us before bringing a third party into the mix. I wanted to build our foundation first.
Eventually, we compromised and had our child in year two, but that shift changed everything.
I always assumed co-parenting would be easy because we’re married and in love. But no one tells you how hard it actually is to parent in one voice. I grew up with a single mum who was very strict, so I always knew I’d be a no-nonsense kind of parent. My husband is the opposite; he’s sweet, soft and indulgent. I say no, he says yes. I set bedtime rules, and he bends them. And it drives me mad.
One night, I got up to get water and found my husband and our son watching TV past 9 p.m. — popcorn, chocolate. I was livid. I sent our son to bed, and his tantrum was so loud that our neighbour texted to ask if everything was OK. It turned into a bigger fight between us. He said if I could make rules, so could he. But that’s not the point. It’s not about who gets to make rules. It’s about showing up as a united front.
Sometimes, it feels like parenting is the one thing threatening the fairytale I was building.
Our fights changed how I communicate in marriage
The toughest part of co-parenting has been realising that we’re not always on the same page and how that misalignment affects our communication.
There was a time when our son’s teacher mentioned something to me about him possibly bullying another child. I told my husband about it casually. Only for him to confront the teacher later and make it a full-on issue. She ended up telling me what happened, and I was mortified. We had a long fight, and in the middle of it, he said something that stuck with me. He said, “You didn’t defend your son.”
He was right. I’d been more concerned about doing what’s “correct” than actually thinking about how it made our child feel. My husband is very intentional about being present for our son in a way that he believes will shape his confidence in the long term.
That moment forced me to confront my blind spots. I realised I’ve been parenting from a place of hyper-responsibility, because I never had both parents growing up. It was always just my mum; she had to be soft and tough. But my husband grew up with both parents; he’s coming from a different place entirely. That context has helped me soften in some of our disagreements. I still don’t always agree with him, but I now try to understand where he’s coming from before we clash.
I’ve become the stern version of myself
I didn’t know I could be this strict. I always suspected I’d be like my mum, but lately, I’ve noticed that I’m even stricter than her. Take bedtime, for example. My mum lets us stay up on weekends. Me? No way. Once it’s past 9 p.m., no treats, no TV. Full stop.
Sometimes, I shock myself. But weirdly, I also love this version of me. People know not to bring rubbish to my doorstep. And in other areas of life, it’s given me clarity. I don’t overextend myself or say yes when I want to say no. But it also means I don’t bend. Even with my husband, I find it hard to let things slide.
Do I miss the easier, go-with-the-flow version of me? A little. But I also respect the woman I’ve become. Marriage didn’t just show me who I am; it revealed parts of me I didn’t know existed.
Got a marriage story to share? Please fill the form and we’ll reach out.
Love isn’t enough, but it’s the fuel that keeps me going
People always ask if love is enough to sustain a marriage. My answer? No. But without love, you won’t even try.
Love won’t fix your communication. It won’t make you patient. It won’t magically make your partner understand you. But it gives you the reason to keep doing the work.
To me, love is like fuel in a car. The car might be shiny, brand new and expensive, but it’s going nowhere without fuel. Love is what makes me keep showing up even when parenting gets hard, even when we argue, even when I miss the version of us that didn’t have responsibilities. Love is what keeps me coming back.
*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
