I married my husband who is thirteen years older, so I will always be a trophy wife for him.
At the time of my second marriage, my husband was in his early 50s, I was in my mid-40s, and we each had two kids. We maintained our individual accounts and opened one for the house. We each kick the same percentage of our incomes into the house account and have a joint credit card. But we pay for our children separately.
My grandparents got married at a very young age, and a lot of what I think about marriage is based on their relationship.
I'm a teen-age bride.
My mom married a family friend, and my dad married someone that's eight years older than me, so it was just like, these - like, I literally live a country song, so I had to write one.
I wouldn't be caught dead marrying a woman old enough to be my wife.
When you hear about people in the '50s getting married at 20, you're like, 'What were they thinking?' My grandparents were together for over 50 years.
My mother, Maxine, was married at 16 to my father Raymond, and in 56 years together, he was the only man she ever had.
People always tease me. They say, look at you, you went for so much psychoanalysis and you're so neurotic, you wind up marrying a girl so much younger than you.
My parents have been married for 50-plus years, and I wanted to have what they had.
My parents have been together since they were 16 years old.
Who wants to be married to a grandfather?
Perhaps I'm old-fashioned but I don't think mothers want their 25-year-old daughters to marry 85-year-old men, except maybe for the money. Money, at least, makes some sense.
Mom and Pop were just a couple of kids when they got married. He was eighteen, she was sixteen and I was three.
Claire Hodgson, born Clara Mae Merritt, was the daughter of a prominent Georgia attorney who had once represented Ty Cobb. She was still a teenager when she married Frank Hodgson, a gentleman caller nearly twice her age.
My parents had met in high school and married right after my father came back from World War II. They honeymooned in Paris and returned to that city when my father, in college on the G.I. Bill, was awarded a Fulbright Scholarship.
