I want a husband.
A Catholic one.
One whose relationship with me will result in the destruction of our self-absorption. A husband whose presence ultimately brings the best out in me, who is committed to my sainthood and to his own. A husband with whom to grow over time in holiness, in healthiness, and in happiness.
But I won't be able to do that with him if I constantly require him to be what most of us require a significant other to be: compatible with me.
And G.K. Chesterton has called us out for this.
"I have known many happy marriages, but never a compatible one," he wrote. "The whole aim of marriage is to fight through and survive the instant when incompatibility becomes unquestionable. For a man and a woman, as such, are incompatible."
Still, we often chiefly seek men or women with whom we're "compatible" and dump the ones with whom we "aren't" without asking an important question: should we?
Not necessarily. Here are three reasons why:
1. Compatibility is a cop-out.
Merriam-Webster's definition for compatibility is "able to exist or occur together without trouble or conflict."
That is, to be able to exist together without bad times. But if that were the goal, or even possible, why would we have to vow at our weddings to stay true to each other in good times and in bad?
This does not mean that we necessarily should marry people with whom we are likely to have undue conflict—with whom we are fundamentally contradictory, like a staunch atheist if you're a practicing Catholic, or somebody who doesn't practice chastity if you do.
But it does mean that we must admit: no two humans who are honest with each other and with themselves can coexist in the same place for a long time without ever having conflict.
You'll discover over time that your preferences don't all align. That one of you is sloppy and the other is neat. That one of you likes to cook and the other just likes to eat. That one of you is quick to save money and the other, quick to spend it.
You'll learn that your modus operandi and your significant other's are nearly never the same, and at first it might surprise you.
But with conversation and negotiation, those differences are survivable. Yet we so prize relationships in which we won't have to deal with them.
Why? I suspect not because we can't love somebody with whom we have conflict, but because we frankly do not want to.
Which makes the quest for compatibility a cop-out, a quest only to love somebody if he or she is always easy to live alongside and love.
It means we've forgotten what conflict can be: an opportunity.
2. Conflict is an opportunity.
If a couple never has clashed, it is not necessarily because they are a wholly compatible match. It's because they haven't yet had the degree of exposure to each other that uncovers what has always existed: their differences.
It might be for lack of time. It takes a while to learn about each other. Or it could be for lack of courage. Our significant others can't know stuff about us that we have been afraid to tell them.
But a conflict is still a conflict when you don't know about it. And when you do know about it, it doesn't have to be a catastrophe. That's because whether conflict exists in your relationship is not as important as whether and how you work through it.
Sometimes, that'll mean admitting that there are multiple right ways to load a dishwasher. Other times, it'll mean learning to stick to a budget when you never have. It'll mean you'll have to negotiate.
And doing that is an opportunity to learn about each other and to discern whether you should maintain your connection despite your differences. And if you should, it is an opportunity to learn how to do it.
3. Compatibility is achievable.
We don't need to start with compatibility.
We need to achieve it, after we have discerned that it is a good idea to date or marry each other—after we've determined, in the words of Dietrich von Hildebrand, that "this union will lead to the eternal welfare of both spouses."
And face it: your eternal welfare does not depend on whether he or she does everything exactly how you would do it. It doesn't depend on whether sometimes, you irritate each other.
What matters is that when we do—when we find the ultimately minor arenas in which we aren't compatible—we modify our behavior until we achieve compatibility. And then we do it again, and again, and again.
And we can. How?
By adjusting to each other and for each other, as needed. By determining each other's love languages and frequently speaking them. By learning each other's needs and lovingly meeting them. By fighting the battles we all have with our own selfishness.
It is a way of life that requires work and discipline.
A way of life we'll never embrace if we call all incompatibility a deal breaker.
