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While Brian and I dated, we drove together to work every day, and ate dinner together almost every night. I dreamed of what it would be like after our wedding—long, leisurely evenings with the two of us cooking together, discussing our day over dinner, and chatting as we washed the dishes. I assumed that would be our marriage, since that's how my parents' marriage was. Mom greeted Dad with a hug and kiss when he arrived home from work. They love being together and are rarely apart. That was exactly the kind of marriage I wanted with Brian.

So when we were newlyweds and Brian didn't come straight home after work, I was crushed. On the nights he had school, he'd get home around 9:30, we'd eat dinner in front of the television, and then go to bed. When he didn't have class, he'd bike and then study or watch TV. And on the weekends, he often left to bike before I got up and didn't come home until late afternoon.

I tried running and biking with Brian, but I'm not athletic and Brian ran competively in college. I saw it wasn't as much fun for him when I'd slow him down.

For a long time, even though I was hurt and frustrated,

I didn't tell Brian what was really bothering me: I didn't feel like a priority to him.

After six months, I knew I had to tell him the truth and make him understand how unhappy I was. "Marriage is about spending time together," I said finally one evening as he prepared to head out on another bike ride. "Lately it feels as though I'm last on your list of priorities. You say you love me, but it sure doesn't feel like it."

Brian acted surprised by my frustration. Why couldn't he understand that I missed him?

While dating, Jaime and I invested a lot of time in getting to know each other. We'd have great conversations during our shared commute to and from work, and I made eating dinner together a priority—even though it meant I rarely had time for staying healthy through my daily run, or biking with friends. When we got married, we purchased a condo closer to work. Since we no longer had to drive together to save gas, I could head home earlier. I was excited that I could get to the trails before dark, have a long run or a bike ride, and then spend the rest of the evening with Jaime.

Growing up, I saw my parents maintain busy after-work lives that took them away from home at least two nights a week. But they maximized their time together—talking as they shopped for groceries, or turning off the radio in the car—while still indulging their individual interests. That's how I assumed my marriage would be.

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