Couples Who Play Together Stay Together. Not In My Experience.
I hoped play would keep my marriage going, but it wasn't enough
You might have seen the theme of today’s essay. It’s based on a popular Substack Note of mine. I hope you like it!
Dear Friend,
Have you heard the saying, “Couples who play together stay together”? This quote from a Patagonia catalog gave me a glimmer of hope when I first read it.
The idea behind it is simple: doing things you both love is the key to a successful relationship. After all, shared experiences are a blast—they strengthen your bond and create memories that will last a lifetime. Many people believe your relationship will thrive if you keep the fun alive.
Well, let me tell you, that wasn’t the case for me.
My ex-wife and I met during a yoga class. We both loved wellness, so it was a perfect match. We spent our days exploring the world together. We’d walk to the library, grab a cup of coffee at our favorite cafe, go hiking and climbing mountains, backpack through beautiful wilderness, and even road-tripped across the country from Boulder to Chicago, San Francisco to Vancouver, and beyond. Hell, we even watched Alias together.
On the surface, we seemed to have it all. We were doing things we enjoyed, so why wouldn’t our relationship work? A fellow yogi even commented on how beautiful we were as a couple lol.
But here’s the thing: healing and growth were missing behind all the play and adventure. Over time, I realized that people who heal and grow together—not just play together—are the ones who stay together.
I know it’s easy to see the appeal of believing that doing fun things is enough to keep a relationship going. Play is fun and helps us take a break from the weight of our daily responsibilities. But it doesn’t do much to help us navigate the inevitable challenges of intimacy.
Play kept my marriage going for years. During the week, we worked, practiced yoga, and enjoyed delicious dinners followed by our favorite shows, like Six Feet Under. We spent weekends exploring nature and the city and even vacationed up to two months a year. Life felt purposeful and enjoyable.
When childhood wounds recur or challenging choices demand our attention, we often use fun activities to avoid dealing with the growing issues. However, we lacked the experience or skills to face those uncomfortable truths head-on, so we became emotionally detached.
Healing is about processing and integrating those wounds that keep us from being fully present and emotionally available to each other. It means working with old patterns of relating, like fear, control, blame, and rejection, which get in the way of deep connection. Healing isn’t just about you—your partner’s healing is just as important. You create a safe space where you both can do your inner work.
Growth happens when your relationship starts, and it means evolving beyond your current level of awareness. Together, you become wiser, more resilient, and more accepting of each other’s limitations. Growth keeps a relationship moving forward—it’s either growing or dying, never staying stuck in a rut.
Growth requires awareness of the need for change, trust in the possibility of change, and the courage to be vulnerable and have tough conversations—not just for one's own sake but for the sake of the relationship. In my marriage, we avoided difficult conversations. We’d distract ourselves with play, activities, and work instead of talking about our pain, needs, and wants.
We played together, but never as a team. We grew individually but never as a partnership.
I felt lonelier than ever in my marriage, and I knew my ex-wife must have felt the same way. I couldn’t put my finger on what I was feeling beyond loneliness, anger, and sadness, and I was afraid to talk about these emotions or ask about hers. Instead, I stuck to my old strategy: numb myself, maintain a cold war, and hope that our relationship would magically improve if I were just positive enough.
Imagine what my marriage would have been like if we had focused on healing and personal growth. It would have started with a clear commitment to being partners and being open and honest. My ex-wife and I needed to be candid about ourselves—our hurts, weaknesses, and fears. This meant building trust and feeling safe through honest conversations.
We would have also supported each other’s personal development. This meant being consistent as we worked through our pain and encouraging each other to grow in ways that helped our relationship. Instead of trying to fix each other, we would have created a safe space where healing could happen.
Additionally, we would have faced challenging issues together. This might have involved couples therapy, spiritual work, or regular, honest conversations about our feelings. Growth doesn’t happen when things are easy. It happens when things get tough, and both partners are committed to staying in the relationship and putting in the effort. In reality, even if we had done all these things, there’s no guarantee that our relationship would have lasted.
After my marriage ended, I realized a truth borrowed from the Peter Principle: A relationship does not rise to its level of maturity. It falls to its level of immaturity.
Ultimately, my marriage ended not because we didn’t have fun or do things together but because we didn’t mature with the challenges. While fun and shared experiences are essential, they’re not enough alone. The truth is that people who heal and grow together stay together. Couples willing to look inward, confront their weaknesses, and face life’s challenges together develop a deeper, more intimate, and lasting connection.
Today, I’m working on a relationship rooted in partnership, mutual acceptance and supporting each other’s growth and healing while laughing, sharing experiences and having fun.
Keep growing together,
Ryan
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When I quit the booze and blow, I assumed my marriage would struggle. I feared it wouldn’t survive. Many didn’t when one partner sobered up.
What I didn’t expect is that my wife, absent her party pal, would lose interest in the party scene in time. Eventually, she lose interest in the party favors too.
When she accompanied me to my second ten day silent retreat, I knew for sure something had shifted. When she gave up even having one glass of wine with dinner because it wasn’t worth the penalty, I also knew.
We started by playing together, but that’s not what endured. It’s been, in large part, her loyalty to the relationship. She also taught me loyalty by modeling it.
We used to bicker and fight when we’d party. Now we talk about things. All the things. Lack of candor would now be an act of betrayal.
But please let me knock on wood. I don’t profess to be the expert. Relationships list and capsize in unforeseen storms all the time. I never want to forget that everything changes. All that has the power arise will pass away, and I don’t know what’s wise to hope for in that regard. Mutual death in an accident? Oof.
When we first met we spoke often about forever. We even still have a magnet that says “forever.” It makes us smile now. We try not to talk about unrealistic concepts these days, but we do appreciate that there’s a poetic sweetness to their intentions.
Thanks for the share, Ryan.
I agree Ryan. This is an Important lesson. When you're married you're still both growing as individuals and you have to support each others growth, even if that means you grow in different directions. I think a lot of young couples think if they try and "keep it fun" it will be enough. It's how you both come together in the hard times.
My wife and I really don't have much in common haha but our strongest bond is our shared humour and willing to listen to eachother and support one another.
I like to think of relationships as "conditional love" rather than the unconditional type you have with no your kids. There are conditions. You must work together!