I was driving to the gym this morning, wondering if my love for my partner is idealistic or real.

Don’t judge. I often perform deep analysis on life subjects from time to time. In this instance, I wanted to understand whether what I am feeling is real or whether I am romanticizing something.

And during that drive, I realized that my love is real because, in my comparison relationships, I did not understand what life would look like outside of “us.”

That realization took me back to my twenties.

I was 24 when I went through marriage counseling with my then-husband. We had premarital counseling, we got married, and six months later, we separated.

That experience has stayed with me, particularly because I now wonder how much two people in their twenties can realistically know about themselves, let alone each other, when they are preparing to spend the rest of their lives together.

This is not an argument that people under 30 should not get married. It is not an argument that premarital counseling is useless.

It is a question.

How much can premarital counseling actually prepare two people for a marriage when both people are still becoming themselves?

In my twenties, I was figuring out who I was and where I fit in with society. I was also eager to explore my twenties with my partners, nearly carefree and without much responsibility.

I had not yet experienced enough life to understand what I would eventually need from a partner.

And that matters.

You can sit in a counselor’s office and discuss finances, children, sex, communication, careers, family, religion, and conflict. Those conversations are important.

But a counselor cannot prepare you for every version of yourself that you will become.

At 24, I did not know who I would be at 34. Hell, I had no idea who’d I’d be three months from then. Social media was just emerging. Old connections were becoming new types of confusion or temptations and there wasn’t a manual on how to deal with it.

I did not know what motherhood would teach me.

I did not know how my priorities would change.

I did not know what stability would eventually mean to me.

I did not know which responsibilities would become non-negotiable or how much space I would need to continue growing without feeling like my relationship was holding me back.

And I certainly did not know what I would need from a partner once I had lived through some of those things.

People are marrying later.

The statistics are interesting in that context.

The latest U.S. Census estimates put the median age at first marriage at 30.8 for men and 28.4 for women. In 1975, those numbers were 23.5 for men and 21.1 for women. The average age of mothers at their first birth has also continued to rise, reaching 27.6 in 2024, according to the CDC.

That does not prove people should wait until 30 to marry.

But it does tell us something about how adulthood has changed.

People are spending more time establishing themselves before marriage and parenthood.

Maybe there is a reason for that.

As I became older, wiser, and more experienced, I realized that I play by different rules now.

It is no longer about finding someone who can become my entire world. It is about determining whether someone can fit into the life I have already built without disrupting my responsibilities.

I am a parent. I value stability and safety for myself and my child. I need room to grow and flow with the way life shifts, but not so much that it knocks me down.

That is very different from how I viewed relationships in my twenties. Back then, I was trying to figure out who I was while also figuring out who I was with someone else. Now I know who I am.

So the question is different.

Can this person be a meaningful part of my life without either of us having to lose ourselves?

That is what I mean when I say partnership instead of codependency.

So was the counseling worth it?

The counselor was married with children, but he was also young, nearly our age.

I don’t question whether he was qualified to counsel us. I question whether anyone could have prepared us for what we were actually signing up for.

How could we have known what career changes, children, financial pressure, changing priorities, personal growth, disappointment, and responsibility would do to us?

We couldn’t.

And neither could the counselor.

A counselor can help two people understand each other as they are. But they cannot introduce either person to who they will become. That is not a failure of counseling. It is a limitation of trying to make lifelong decisions while you are still developing your adult identity.

I was never meant to be married so young.

I can say that now without making it a rule for anyone else.

I needed to experience life.

I needed to make mistakes.

I needed to become a parent.

I needed to understand responsibility, stability, independence, and what I was willing to compromise on.

Most importantly, I needed to understand myself outside of a relationship.

Now, having lived through those things, I see why my relationship today feels different.

I am not with my partner because I need him to complete my life.

My life already exists.

I have responsibilities, ambitions, relationships, experiences, and a sense of who I am.

What we are doing now is figuring out whether we can build something together without either person abandoning the life and identity they already have.

That is partnership.

And maybe that is the part I was missing at 24.

Premarital counseling can help you ask important questions.

But experience teaches you which questions matter.

At 24, I thought I was preparing for marriage.

Now I understand that I was still preparing to become myself.

And perhaps that is the real problem with expecting people under 30 to fully understand the marriage they are entering.

Sometimes, you simply have not lived enough life yet to know what you need.

I know I hadn’t.

And today, when I look at the man I am with, my heart is filled with joy because I am not with him because I need a life.

I am with him because I have one. And I genuinely want him in it!