Q. Howdy, Deano! Love the new feature and thanks for taking my question. I've been a lawyer a few years now, and while I absolutely love being in the front ranks slicing the Slimy Orcs of Injustice with my handy TruthSaber - motion for judgment on the pleadings POW - I notice my marriage is sort-of...sad. Like two ships passing in the night, although we're both taking on excess cargo and I think the other ship may be mingling around the harbor. What can we do to keep the romance smooth smiling while steering this million dollar cruise ship?
-Drydocked in Des Moines
A: Ambiguously gendered writer, I'm something of an expert on this topic, as I have been married five times. You might ask yourself why a philanderer diametrically opposed to Juedo-Christian norms would indulge the institution of marriage and the answer is:
networking.
Once you hit a certain age, professionalism requires that you take a spouse or else everyone will think you're a [weirdo/closet queer/nympho/commitmentphobic/incel/predator/super-feminist/etc.]. Don't believe me? Show up to a lawyer networking event as a 40-year-old, wait the obligatory hour for the alcohol to set in, and start telling people that you're "single." Not divorced. Not separated. Not "we've been together for a few years now." Single.
Drydocked, you may as well unbutton your shirt and show everyone oozing, festering boils.
The point is that - much like your decision to go to law school - you have already made an excellent professional life decision. Congratulations! Breed a future lawyer or two - they're like sprinkles on your networking sundae, or, to use your boating metaphor, a gilded anchor.
Unfortunately, almost all marriages are superficial scams. Just as the depression and substance abuse reported in the legal industry are common across all professions and therefore not of concern, please know that no one really has a blissful, fully satisfied domestic life, lawyer or no.
Major unhappiness in relationships, I have found, is the result of unrealistic expectations. Once you accept the fact that romance is a delusion propagated by other industries' scam operators, you'll find a certain peace with that awkward co-existence with another person from your class in a dull, emotionally vacant, and relatively sexless suburb. Again, pop a litter out if you really need to add some gravy to that IV of sad mashed potatoes running into your ass.
Sadly, Drydocked, sometimes the significant others of lawyers don't appreciate these truths that you and I, as superior intellects, can grasp. They still believe in "communication," "emotional support," "work-life balance," "intimacy," and "not stress drinking until you scream-cry pass out," that Disney-fantasy existence of cartoon characters and pop psychology textbooks.
The silver lining - on top of the literal silver lining you can now afford in your bathtub - is that if you find yourself in one of these totally toxic, ahistorical, and unrealistic partnerships, law school gives you the legal resources to fight tooth and nail for what is yours when she sees the "other" credit card statement, at least in theory - you'll still want to hire a peer lest you represent a fool. My legal acumen has saved me one of my three houses and at least 40% of my earned income over the years.
Many things in law and life are an issue of perspective. Once you accept that long-term monogamy is a multinational scam and that you should simply approach it as a Machiavellian means to an end, your life is going to get a whole lot better. When your partner bitches about not doing housework, smile and think "All for the networking."
Your one true love is yourself. Second-place? The Law.
My approach to marriage - which is now 5 for 5 - is heads I win, tails she loses. Non-lawyers won't crack that code until after they've called one of our esteemed peers, which means - yet again - law school put you in a winning position. Works every fucking time, and you know what?
The network loves crazy ex- stories, too!
Smooth sailing!