I think there are some people in life who are not marriage

In the grand and tangled web of human relationships, the choice of a partner—especially for marriage—is one of the most profound decisions a person can make. Sharon Gless speaks with clarity and conviction when she says, “I think there are some people in life who are not marriage material and Chris is one of them.” These words, though spoken casually, echo a deeper truth about human compatibility, a truth that has been explored by the wise since the dawn of time. Marriage is not a bond that can be easily entered, nor is it a union meant for all. It is a sacred, complex relationship that requires more than just affection or desire—it demands compatibility, commitment, and the willingness to grow together.

The ancients understood this well. Consider the story of Helen of Troy, whose beauty and charm sparked one of the most legendary conflicts in history. Though she was married to Menelaus, her affair with Paris led to the Trojan War, and the tragic consequences of that union reveal a deeper truth: that not all unions are meant to last, nor are all partners well-suited to the challenges of marriage. Helen’s story is a powerful reminder that attraction or passion alone does not guarantee a successful marriage. True compatibility, grounded in mutual respect, understanding, and shared values, is what binds partners together, not just physical or emotional chemistry.

Similarly, the wisdom of Socrates speaks to the complexity of human relationships. He argued that the true purpose of marriage is not just the fulfillment of personal desires, but the growth and development of both partners, each helping the other reach higher levels of wisdom and virtue. Socrates, though married to Xanthippe, was deeply committed to the notion that the right partner would help one evolve, both intellectually and spiritually. The failure of some relationships to foster such growth is a stark reminder that not every person is inherently suited to the journey of marriage. Some are indeed “not marriage material,” not because they are lacking in worth, but because the fit between two people must be harmonious to bring forth a flourishing partnership.

Gless’ reflection—especially her acknowledgment that Chris was not suited for marriage—reminds us that this truth is not just a theoretical idea but a practical reality. Not everyone is prepared to offer what a marriage requires: deep emotional labor, sacrifice, and the commitment to build a future together. In the story of Cleopatra and Julius Caesar, we see another example of a union where personal ambition and political power sometimes overshadowed the qualities necessary for a lasting marriage. While their relationship was marked by strength and passion, it also revealed the complexities of two powerful individuals trying to balance love with duty. Perhaps, in this case, the very characteristics that made them great were the same ones that made their union fraught with tension. Gless’s remark implies that some individuals, for reasons of character, timing, or inclination, may never be equipped to fully nurture such a delicate balance.

There is a deeper lesson in Gless’s words, one that extends far beyond individual relationships. Marriage, in its truest form, is not merely a pairing of two people, but the alignment of their values, life goals, and emotional maturity. It requires partners who are both capable of self-awareness and willing to make the necessary sacrifices for the sake of mutual growth. Those who cannot see beyond their own immediate needs or who cannot offer the emotional depth required may indeed be “not marriage material.” This is not to say they are incapable of love or companionship, but that the sacred bond of marriage demands more than what many are ready to give.

The lesson we learn from Sharon Gless’s reflection is one of discernment—the importance of recognizing the right person for marriage. Just as a gardener must know when to plant and when to prune, so too must we, in our relationships, be mindful of the individuals with whom we choose to build a future. Compatibility, shared values, and the willingness to grow together are the true foundations of a lasting partnership. Those who are not prepared to offer these must not be blamed or condemned, but rather understood as ill-suited for such a profound commitment.

In our own lives, let us strive for clarity and wisdom in the choices we make in relationships. Let us remember that marriage is not a mere formality but a deep commitment, a bond that requires more than surface-level attraction or the desire to share a life. It is a partnership built on shared vision, understanding, and a mutual willingness to support each other’s growth. And when we recognize that a person may not be suited for such a union, let us not see it as failure, but as a natural conclusion—the wisdom of knowing that sometimes, not all paths are meant to align. By understanding this, we can honor both ourselves and our partners, choosing only those relationships that truly reflect the mutual respect and commitment needed for a thriving marriage.