does a relationship make you the 'boring 'married friend'?
I wanna be 'one of the guys' again.
Fight Night. A packed arena of over 12,000 people, the fragrance of beer and testosterone in the air. It’s a lads' night. Not my usual setting, but there’s a first time for everything (one of the title fighters is from Ghana, and the other goes to my local mosque—so I’m invested). I dodge around drunk fans and overexcited boxing enthusiasts. A few rows down, I stumble upon a couple, highlighted by a glamorous woman dressed to turn heads, accompanied by a boyfriend in a creased t-shirt and beer-stained shorts—who no doubt forgot to tell her that fight night attire took priority over date night.
My friends and I take our seats in the rows, filled with anticipation and caught up in the energy of the arena. Banter erupts in all directions, with friends, strangers, and people who have nothing in common except for the pending fight. We chat and laugh with the group of lads in front of us. For the record, these lads are the real deal—real English “alright, mate” types who pour beer in your hair (which they did to one of their group members!). Keeping the vibe going, one of the lads, the drunkest in his crew, passes his phone around, flaunting a picture to his group. The phone does its rounds—followed by collective “ohhhs”—until it gets to me. It’s a pic of a social media influencer, who I’m barely familiar with, in a bikini.
“What do you think of her?” he says, prompted, maybe even offended, by the unimpressed look on my face. For context, the girl was not Beyoncé—at least not good-looking enough to make me break character.
“Darg, I’m married,” I say.
Insert Record Scratch
Despite the noise all around us, all the lads fall silent. I’ve killed the vibe.
“So what, mate? So am I!” the drunk lad responds. “But I would ‘ave a bit of that!” He chugs his drink, cheers, and the group roars back.
It’s a short exchange, but it ages me. A reality check, a nice reminder that I’m the boring married friend. It’s not the first time—it's “can’t you take a joke,” “it’s not that deep,” “it’s not like she is here.”
The guy code gets weird after marriage. My closest friends respect my boundaries and keep their single adventures to themselves, but I’ve learned there are different types of married guys. Ones who understand that even a joke can be disrespectful, and then the men who are married in their household but single in public. My rule is that any action I refrain from in front of my wife doesn’t need to manifest when she’s not there. Of course, I can find other women attractive—it’s a natural reaction. My wife knows this; more than a few times, I’ve been scolded at the traffic lights if she’s in the passenger seat and my eyes linger for too long in the wrong direction (I’m only human!). Yet, that’s quite different from celebrating and lusting over another woman in the company of others. Desire is nature, but disrespect is deliberate. This often leads to “bruh, she got you too whipped,”—well duh, ain’t that why I married her?
I am mature enough to understand all this, but I hate it. It miss being “one of the guys.” The trade-off hurts. Marriage is sacrifice, but when you lose that connection with your boys, it strips away something. It took me a while to articulate it properly, but I finally understand the source of the pain. It’s the loss of youth, the wild recklessness of your years sans responsibility. That’s why many men are reluctant to let it go; it’s choosing to leave behind that freedom. Before you say, “women leave things behind too”—I’m not denying that—but commitment and partnership are a badge of honor in many female friendship groups; it doesn’t hit the same for men. The connotations are different for men—commitment is respected, but not celebrated.
I’m not Christian, but I forever appreciate this quote: “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.”
The exchange comes with being a man, not just marriage. We make better decisions, move into new environments, and understand ourselves a lot better. It comes with the territory of growth. It’s like a diet—we miss carefree KFC binges, but we suffer the results. I like to believe that for everything I have lost by trying to be a better person, I gain much more in the long run.
I am considering making some of the newsletter into audio, just reading them so you can listen to the like podcasts, however I will only do it, if people want it.
Currently in NYC, heading to LA soon. If you’re in either of these cities, I have some books with me and would be happy to deliver them in person (saves time and money!).
Pic below: Damn, only in America would you see something like that lol.
