What happens when marriage becomes disposable
I have a secret habit: I read advice columns the way other people read sports scores. If I’m being honest, they make me feel good about having a nice, boring life with a loving family and no real personal drama.
The problems are different, the stakes feel personal, and the rhythms are familiar: betrayal, resentment, mismatched expectations, a mother-in-law who will not stop interfering. But the most predictable part isn’t the letter; it’s the comments.
No matter what the question is — one spouse is messy, one is distracted, one is depressed, one is anxious, one is selfish, or one is exhausted — the chorus is the same: Divorce. Leave him. Pack a bag. Lawyer up. You deserve better. The commenters speak with the calm certainty of people recommending a better brand of dishwasher detergent.
Sometimes a marriage really is dangerous or irreparable. Abuse is not “a rough patch,” and infidelity isn’t always something a couple can or should survive. But what’s striking is how often the “leave” reflex shows up even when the situation is plainly ordinary: the grind of cohabitation, the stress of money, the monotony of raising children, the disappointment of discovering your spouse is a human being rather than a Disney-scripted soulmate.
This isn’t just an internet quirk. It’s a cultural tell, and it’s part of what’s behind the loneliness epidemic.
In 2023, the U.S. Surgeon General © Washington Examiner





















Toi Staff
Sabine Sterk
Penny S. Tee
Gideon Levy
Waka Ikeda
Tarik Cyril Amar
Mark Travers Ph.d
Grant Arthur Gochin
Chester H. Sunde