Marriage, Commitment and Velcro Relationships

A reporter called recently to talk about a trend that’s catching headlines and hearts alike: the growing number of couples choosing committed cohabitation over marriage, and what that means for society.

It’s not just a passing fad. Survey after survey shows teens and young adults today are less enthusiastic about marriage than their parents and grandparents. Many see marriage not as a life goal, but as one option among many — and those who do marry are often waiting until close to 30 before saying, “I do.”

Before my conversation with the reporter, I decided to check in with two of my favorite experts on youth culture — my sons, Alex, 21, and Michael, 18.

“What do you think about marriage?” Alex volleyed the question back at me before sharing his own thoughts.

“I think marriage is the glue that helps couples hold together as they grow up,” I offered.

Alex grinned. “Maybe. But committed cohabitation feels more like Velcro. You stick when things are good. You pull apart when they’re not.”

It was an insight that stuck with me — pun intended.

Alex and Michael are part of a generation raised in the aftermath of widespread divorce, mine included. Despite every promise I made to avoid repeating the patterns of my childhood, my marriage to their mother ended in my early thirties. I had grown up immersed in the world of marriage education, yet it would take decades for the seeds planted in my youth to fully blossom into understanding.

When it came to keeping my marriage together, I fell short. But when it came to raising children who would not carry the scars of hostility, anger, or doubt about their own worth — I succeeded beyond my wildest hopes. I realized that while I couldn’t give my sons the intact marriage I had dreamed of, I could give them an experience of divorce that was loving, respectful, and healing.

As the third generation in my family to face divorce, it would be easy to give up on marriage altogether. Yet, ironically, I’ve become one of marriage’s fiercest advocates. Not because marriage should be for everyone, or because anyone should stay in an unhealthy relationship. But because of what I’ve seen firsthand: the incredible opportunities marriage creates for love, growth, fulfillment, and community — and the real costs when those foundations crumble.

At 49, I can say without hesitation: Marriage matters.

It matters because marriage is a people-growing machine.

Beyond the spiritual or religious significance many find in vows, marriage offers something universally precious: a way to meet our deepest needs for bonding — that profound blend of emotional openness and physical closeness that fuels great relationships.

Our ancestors often married for survival — food, shelter, protection. Happiness was making it through another year. But over the past century, as freedoms expanded, marriage evolved from a matter of necessity to a pursuit of intimacy and love.

It didn’t get worse when it changed. It got better.

The problem? No one sent out a memo with the new rules.

We’ve seen rising rates of marital and family breakdown not because marriage is broken, but because too few young people grew up witnessing relationships built on the skills that sustain love: confiding, listening with empathy, managing emotions, resolving conflict without casualties.

They didn’t learn it at home. They didn’t learn it in school. And without those tools, many grow up believing Velcro relationships — easy on, easy off — are the safest bet.

As Alex reminded me, for many young adults, the pain of seeing marriages fall apart — or watching parents stay together miserably — leads them to wonder if relationships aren’t meant to be permanent after all. If Velcro offers less risk of devastation, why not choose it?

Social media feeds that perspective. When Americans are collectively spending tens of millions of hours a year on Facebook, “Marriage” is just one of nine relationship statuses — jostling for attention among “It’s complicated” and “Open relationship.”

And truthfully, marriage is complicated too.

It’s about sticking through the highs and the lows, the seasons of growth and the seasons of surviving. It’s about understanding that, like LeBron James missing baskets on his way to greatness (we’ll skip the Tiger Woods comparison for now), intimacy and trust grow through practice, forgiveness, and grit.

Marriage, at its best, isn’t about finding the perfect person. It’s about loving an imperfect person perfectly — struggles, flaws, miracles, and all.

So how do we shift the future? How do we help more young people see marriage not as a trap, but as an extraordinary adventure?

The answer isn’t about making marriage easier or divorce harder. It’s about giving the next generation the skills and examples they need to create relationships worth cherishing.

It’s about teaching what PAIRS and programs like it have been pioneering for decades: how to listen, confide, empathize, and bond in ways that heal rather than hurt.

As I climb the stairs to check on Zachary, my third son — nearly a year old now — I’m filled with hope. My wife and I hold these lessons dear, not just as ideas, but as our daily practice. For his sake, and for theirs, we know the future of marriage isn’t about glue or Velcro.

It’s about knowing how to dance — and loving the dance enough to keep learning every step of the way.

Seth Eisenberg is President of the nonprofit PAIRS Foundation, an industry leader in relationship and marriage education.