I Had A $100,000 Wedding 6 Months Ago. Now I Want A Divorce.

Q: After three years of dating, my husband and I got married six months ago. Our wedding was amazing. We rented a chateau in the south of France, it was black tie, and we danced all night. We're incredibly grateful to my parents, who saved up for years, and to all our guests who flew in from the U.S. and took time off of work. We asked for no gifts, but some people gave us money anyway.

I had zero doubts when I married my husband, but then things started to unravel. He got super drunk at the wedding and was rude to my mom. We combined finances, and the way he micromanages my spending drives me nuts. I also found out that he hooked up with one of my coworkers before we met. She and I aren't close, so I wouldn't expect her to say anything, but he didn't tell me either. We fight about all of this constantly. I'm genuinely shocked — I never saw this coming.

If we got divorced, I'd be mortified to tell my family and friends. (Would we return the wedding gifts?) I feel sick thinking about how much my parents sacrificed to pay for such a beautiful wedding. But I've been miserable for six months straight. Should I stick it out for another year or two, or trust my gut that I made a mistake?

A: Oh, yeah, the rule is: If you had a destination wedding, you have to stay together at least six years and two months to make your friends’ and family’s effort worth it. And that’s only if the airport closest to your venue was a major international hub. If it was a small regional airport that required multiple connecting flights, you’re looking at seven years and eight months.

Only kidding. My friend, let me introduce you to the sunk cost fallacy, the phenomenon in which a person sticks with something just because they’ve already put so much time and money into it, even if it’s not going to serve them in the future. You did the best you could with the information you had. Now, you have more information; it’s time to make a new decision.

My first question is: Why divorce? Marriage is meant to be about going through life with someone, even the hard bits. And while you didn’t sign up for him to be controlling over your spending (yikes), you did sign up to work at the relationship, to put in effort even when you want to walk away. If you didn’t sign up for that, then you wanted a wedding not a marriage. Maybe you don’t forgive him entirely for being mean to your mom, but can you forgive him enough that you’re able to move forward?

Regardless of what choice you make, the wedding is a sunk cost.

There isn’t some magic amount of work that you must put in to prove to me — or yourself, or Aunt Susan who bought the really nice salad bowls off your registry — that you are allowed to walk away. But consider this: How hard do you think a person should try to address their marital problems? Think about what your answer to that question would have been before all of this.

On their own, each of the issues you mentioned are addressable — if he is also interested in and invested in your happiness. If not, or if you simply feel like you are simply too checked out from this relationship to earnestly try, then yes, it’s time to get divorced. Even though it’s been six months. Even though your parents dropped serious cash.

Regardless of what choice you make, the wedding is a sunk cost. You cannot recoup your parents’ money by sticking it out for any length of time. The same principle applies for your guests’ expenses, too.

A marriage ending — whenever that may be — doesn’t erase the joy of the wedding. Did you not have fun? Did you not dance the night away? Did you not thoroughly treat everyone to an exquisite roast duck and open bar? Yes, you did ask people to fly far, but I’m sure there were plenty of guests who loved being able to be like “Oh no, my hands are tied! I have to go to the South of France! Darn!” And by the way, how many of them are divorced? You would not be the first spouse in history to walk away.

Please trust that everyone spent their money the way they wanted to: to celebrate you, your husband, and a marriage that, at the time, you very much believed in. You didn’t go into this with bad intentions. You, probably more than anyone else there, wanted this to work out. I assume (or at least hope) that most people who attended your wedding love you enough to root for your happiness. They don’t want you to suffer. And for the guests who don’t love you that much, they got an excuse to party at a chateau.

That doesn’t mean people won’t be miffed if you call it off. When you stand up in front of your family and friends to exchange vows, you’re inviting your community into your love story. You’re asking them to care. So, yes, decisions like divorce do come with a social cost. But ultimately, your long-term happiness is worth short-term discomfort, whether that’s attending couples therapy with your husband or breaking the news to your cousin that you’re going back to your maiden name.

I can’t say which decision is right for you, but please don’t stay with this man and keep up the charade of a happy relationship simply because you don’t want to have to return the wedding gifts — which, by the way, I don’t think you need to. A present is not a binding contract. That is certainly not the spirit in which a KitchenAid Mixer ought to be given. Also, what is someone going to do with the silverware you picked out and used for six months? Nothing. That’s what. The headache of deciding who gets the good bed linens and who gets the Le Creuset in the divorce is price enough to pay (not to mention the legal fees).

Plus, let’s not forget: If you do leave, isn’t your husband just as much — if not more —to blame for the waste of everyone’s PTO? Is he not also at fault for withholding extremely pertinent information about a past hookup (weirdo behavior), being a controlling jerk (ew), for being mean to your mom?!

People who truly love you will feel happiness at your happiness and relief at your relief.

Neither staying nor leaving is shameful. Both will be hard. Ending this relationship doesn’t mean you failed. Giving this another chance doesn’t mean you’re a doormat. The only “failure” is staying and not addressing anything. Learning to pivot and make choices based on what your current self needs is a huge way to earn your own trust. It offers proof that when hard things happen, you can rely on yourself to do what needs to be done.

If you do stay, you must get out the metaphorical backhoe and start digging into why his instincts are to lie, monitor your finances, and get drunk and pick fights. He needs to be equally (if not more) eager to get to the bottom of this. Why is he like this? Does he want to change? Will he actually commit to discarding those impulses and inviting something new in?

I don’t blame you if you decide to leave. Again, I think there are enough bad signs to warrant it. But if you do, please don’t put so much blame on yourself that you forget to grieve. Losing the future you imagined is very sad. Please know that people who truly love you will feel happiness at your happiness and relief at your relief.

But also please don’t blame them if they’re a little hesitant to go to your next destination wedding.

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