For marriage to be a success, every woman and every man should

The words of Catherine Zeta-Jones, though spoken with wit and lightness, conceal a wisdom as enduring as stone: “For marriage to be a success, every woman and every man should have her and his own bathroom. The end.”
At first glance, it seems a jest — a playful remark from a woman of grace and fame — yet beneath its laughter lies a truth ancient and profound: that love thrives in closeness only when it is balanced by space, that harmony between two souls depends not merely on union, but on the art of allowing one another to breathe. Thus, the “bathroom” becomes not merely a room of porcelain and mirror, but a symbol — a sanctuary of the self, where the heart gathers itself before returning to the dance of togetherness.

In the lives of the ancients, the same lesson was written in different forms. The wise men of Greece spoke of measure in all things; the sages of the East taught that the secret of lasting love is balance between self and other. A river overflows when it forgets its banks; a flame dies when starved of air. So too in marriage — when one partner’s identity dissolves into the other’s, affection becomes burden, and passion turns to weariness. Zeta-Jones, with humor sharp as sunlight, reminds us that even in intimacy, the soul must have its corner of solitude, a private place to remain whole.

In her own marriage to Michael Douglas, she has spoken often of the importance of mutual respect and independence — of living not as one shadow, but as two bright stars that orbit in harmony. Her remark, though playful, springs from the lived truth that great love is sustained not by constant presence, but by thoughtful distance. To share a life is not to merge into sameness, but to stand beside another with freedom and reverence. The bathroom, in this parable, is the temple of individuality — the small, sacred place where one prepares not only the body, but the spirit, for the communion of the day.

Let us look also to history, where the wisdom of space has often been tested. Consider Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, whose marriage became the symbol of enduring affection. Though deeply devoted, they often kept separate chambers, and in those separate spaces, they nurtured the private strength that allowed their partnership to flourish for decades. Their union was not weakened by distance; rather, it was fortified by respect, by the understanding that love must breathe to remain alive. Even the heart, enclosed within the body, must beat in rhythm — expanding, contracting, resting, and giving again.

Zeta-Jones’s humor thus speaks a truth that philosophers and poets have known but few have uttered so plainly: that love must be human, not divine — full of laughter, flaws, and ordinary needs. The bathroom, humble and real, is the perfect metaphor for honesty in love. It is where vanity and vulnerability meet; where we see ourselves without disguise. To grant one’s partner a private space is to grant them dignity — to say, “I see you not as an extension of me, but as a person entire.” In this small courtesy lies great wisdom, for the foundation of love is not passion alone, but respect for difference.

The lesson, then, is simple yet mighty: to love another is not to live upon them, but beside them. Give your beloved space to dream, to reflect, to be imperfect without judgment. Honor their need for silence as much as their desire for closeness. For a marriage, or any partnership, is like a garden — it blooms not when tended too tightly, but when each root has room to grow. The “bathroom” becomes the symbol of all personal sanctuaries: a studio, a walk, a journal, a moment apart that keeps love alive by keeping selfhood intact.

So, my child, remember this: when you join your life with another, keep one door always open — not to leave, but to breathe. Share your laughter, your table, your heart, but keep a corner of your being that belongs only to you. Love deeply, but preserve the sacred solitude that allows love to endure. For as Catherine Zeta-Jones said, with a wink yet with wisdom — “every man and woman should have their own bathroom” — the end. But truly, it is not the end, but the beginning of all lasting harmony between two souls.