If you’ve ever suspected that the euphoric glow of “I do” fades faster than the wedding cake gets freezer burn, you’re not wrong.

Research suggests that marriage delivers a noticeable happiness boost—but only for about two years.

After that, couples tend to return to their pre-marital baseline, meaning that whatever level of existential dread or mild optimism you had before tying the knot is more or less where you'll land afterward (Lucas & Clark, 2006).

This might sound like a cosmic joke, but psychologists call it the hedonic treadmill—the idea that humans adapt to positive and negative changes and eventually return to a stable level of happiness (Brickman & Campbell, 1971).

This means that while marriage might feel like a life upgrade at first, your brain is busy adjusting and whispering, “Okay, what’s next?”

But before you start composing a strongly worded email to your wedding officiant, consider this: the happiness decline post-marriage is not universal.

Some research suggests that marriage does offer long-term benefits—just not in the way Hollywood rom-coms would have you believe.

Ah, the age-old question: How often should couples be having sex to be happy?

If you’re expecting a magic number, brace yourself for disappointment. A 2015 study (Muise et al., 2015) found that the actual frequency of sex doesn’t significantly predict happiness in long-term relationships.

Instead, what really matters is feeling desired by your partner. That’s right—being wanted trumps the act itself.

This has all sorts of amusing and existentially troubling implications.

For one, it suggests that sexual satisfaction isn’t just about bodies bumping together at a socially approved cadence but rather about the deep-seated human need to feel special, chosen, and, let’s be honest, a little bit worshipped.

It also means that the couples diligently tracking their weekly “intimacy quota” may be missing the point. You can check off as many obligatory Wednesday night romps as you like, but if your partner secretly feels about as desired as a tax audit, the relationship still suffers.

So, what’s the takeaway?

Kurt Vonnegut once said, "There’s only one rule that I know of, babies—God damn it, you’ve got to be kind." If he had been a marriage therapist, he might have added, "...especially when you’re lonely, married, and wondering how you ended up in this existential mess."

Because loneliness in marriage is real.

You can be in a legally binding, till-death-do-us-part arrangement and still feel utterly alone. But before you throw your wedding ring into the nearest body of water, let’s talk about a little miracle drug called gratitude. And its scrappy sidekick, forgiveness.

A recent study published in the Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy suggests that gratitude and forgiveness can weaken the corrosive effects of loneliness on marital satisfaction (Leavitt et al., 2025).

While they don’t seem to work their magic on the sexual relationship (sorry, no gratitude-fueled orgasms here), they do help keep the overall marriage from spiraling into despair.

Dear Daniel,

I’ve been struggling with depression for some time, but thankfully, I have a strong support system, a great therapist, and a loving wife.

My therapist suggested we explore our love languages to better understand each other, and it was an eye-opener.

Turns out, physical touch is a major part of how I feel loved (42% on the quiz!)—which makes perfect sense to me. The problem? My wife has fibromyalgia, and touch is often painful for her.

She does what she can—placing her hand over mine, quick pecks on the cheek—but if I’m honest, it feels like trying to survive in a desert with just a few drops of water.

Beyond this, our relationship is solid.

We communicate well, spend time together, and support each other.

She was the one who encouraged me to talk to you, as you helped her sister and my brother-in-law.

Daniel, Celeste is my biggest advocate. But intimacy—deep, connected physical affection—is almost nonexistent. We have sex just a few times a year, and even passionate kissing is rare. I feel lost.

I don’t want to pressure her, and I don’t want to become resentful. I just want to be the best partner I can be. How do I stop wanting physical intimacy? Is that even possible?

Sincerely,
Phillip

Somewhere along the way, relationships became a full-time self-improvement project.

Love isn’t just love anymore—it’s an endless excavation of attachment styles, emotional triggers, and personal growth arcs.

We don’t just have arguments; we have conflict resolution styles. We don’t just express frustration; we process our unmet needs in a nonviolent communication framework.

And while all of this emotional sophistication has its merits, at some point, a question emerges: Are we making relationships harder than they need to be?

This is where emotional minimalism comes in—the radical idea that maybe, just maybe, love doesn’t have to be so complicated.

That some of the happiest, longest-lasting couples aren’t the ones who spend hours dissecting their every feeling, but the ones who simply enjoy each other’s company without overanalyzing it.

Let’s talk about how our culture’s obsession with emotional deep-diving is making love harder, why not constantly talking about your feelings can actually be a good thing, and how to practice emotional minimalism without becoming an emotionally unavailable robot.

If you’ve ever wandered into the world of modern relationship advice, you’ve likely encountered Esther Perel.

A brilliant Belgian psychotherapist, she’s the high priestess of erotic distance, the champion of mystery in long-term relationships, and the nuanced defender of the occasional infidelity.

Her TED Talks dazzle, her books sell, and her clients—well, they walk away feeling seen.

But not everyone is enchanted.

Among those raising a skeptical eyebrow are spiritually inclined couples. They may be Christian, Jew, or Muslim.

They’ve found themselves shaking their heads at the suggestion that passion thrives on the unknown or that a touch of betrayal might reinvigorate a marriage.

For spiritually-inclined couples, Perel’s philosophy is, at best, incomplete and, at worst, a siren song leading marriages onto the rocks.

Researchers have long been intrigued by the female orgasm, primarily because, unlike male orgasm, it doesn’t come with a clear-cut evolutionary reason.

Male orgasm is like an overeager mail carrier—package delivered, mission accomplished (Puts et al., 2012).

Female orgasm, on the other hand, is like a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma, wearing lingerie.

This has led scientists to explore whether female orgasm is an adaptive function or simply nature’s little inside joke.

Listen up, lovebirds and gentle readers: Science has spoken, and it turns out that being a little too invested in your partner’s daily miseries might actually help keep your fledgling romance afloat.

Yes, you heard that right. Your tendency to spiral into existential dread when your partner’s barista gets their latte order wrong? That could be the glue holding your love life together—at least for now.

This revelation comes from a research team led by Emre Selçuk, published in the Journal of Personality & Social Psychology.

Their studies suggest that when people lose their emotional composure in response to their partner’s stress, it signals investment, care, and commitment.

In new relationships, this is like waving a giant flag that says, I really, really care about you—even your completely ridiculous micro-stresses! And weirdly enough, that seems to matter.

In the beginning, there was love.

Pure, incandescent love.

The kind of love that makes you say things like, "I don’t care about money, I just want to be with you."

The kind of love that lets you ignore red flags, like the fact that your partner thinks credit card points are a scam or that they insist on paying exact change in drive-thrus.

And then one day, love meets reality. And reality has a balance sheet.

Once upon a time, you were in love.

A new love. A glowing, radiant, teeth-whitened kind of love.

You went on dates. You dressed well. You smelled fantastic.

Your conversations were charming, effortless, and built on a mutual delusion that this polished, agreeable, magazine-ad version of you was real.

Fast forward a year.

You’re both in sweats.

One of you hasn’t showered.

The other is eating peanut butter out of the jar with their hands.

You no longer ask, “What are you thinking?” because the answer is, invariably, “Nothing.” This, dear reader, is the true test of love.

In the grand cosmic sitcom that is human love, few plot twists are as deliciously absurd as divorce regret and remarriage.

Imagine this: after braving the bureaucratic Mount Doom of divorce—dividing the assets, explaining to Aunt Mildred that no, he didn’t cheat, you just couldn’t stand the way he chewed—some couples, like prodigal lovers, come marching back to the altar for a second go.

Is it romance? Is it Stockholm Syndrome? Let’s dive into this.

Can your brain tell if your partner is being honest? It turns out, love isn’t just about candlelit dinners and sweet words—it’s also about synchronized brain waves.

A fascinating new neuroimaging study out of China found that romantic couples exhibit higher brain synchronization when interacting compared to strangers, and this enhanced neural connection correlates with greater honesty.

The study, published in Brain Sciences, suggests that love may literally shape our brains to be more in sync—building trust and reducing deception.

This research aligns with what many of us instinctively feel: when we truly connect with someone, honesty comes more naturally. But how exactly does this work on a neurological level? And could brain science help explain why trust is so essential in long-term relationships?

Let’s dive into the science of brain synchronization, deception, and what it means for the way we love.