Seven Things I Learned Being an Entrepreneurs Spouse
By Brooke Goggans
I’m no expert on marriage, but I do know that even in the best of scenarios, marriage isn’t easy. Each partnership has unique demands and challenges. In my case, I’m married to an entrepreneur. It’s the only version of marriage I know. My husband travels roughly 200 days a year, which means a majority of the time I’m the cook, the laundress, the nurse, the playmate, the driver, the enforcer and the overall project manager of our life — alone. And then I go to work. There is no time to focus on anything besides what’s directly in front of me.
It’s a tough, sometimes lonely life, but I make it work for our marriage, our family and me. These are the seven lessons I’ve learned along the way.
Commitment is key. The startup life is a family decision and if both of you aren’t committed to working in the foxhole, you’re going to lose the war. I committed to this life when I married my husband. He would never be a traditional 9–5 employee, and I wouldn’t want him to be. Being an entrepreneur is who he is, and I love that about him. While I struggle with his long hours, weekends working and exhaustive travel, resentment could slowly erode our marriage and negatively impact our kids. It’s not worth it.
Communication is everything. Considering my spouse is regularly physically absent, whether its long hours at the office or travel, all types of communication are paramount. We rely heavily on Facetime and text lots of pictures. We email almost daily (even when he’s in town), and I leave lots of notes and cards around the house or in suitcases. When my husband is in town, we do our best to take time for actual conversations. If date nights aren’t realistic, walks are our go-to. We put our kids in the stroller and make loops around the neighborhood and have quality talk time. We both agree, the worst times in our marriage were a direct result of the absence of communication. So we make the time, no excuses.
Business travel is no vacation. The startup life requires the travel schedule of a touring rock band. I used to imagine my husband sleeping at fancy hotels and having long dinners with interesting conversations and a rage would bubble inside me, only to explode the moment he walked in the door. (An awesome homecoming for him, I’m sure.) After dozens of fights, I finally realized life on the road sucks. While there may be hotels, they aren’t fancy. Conversations aren’t exchanges of big ideas, they’re pressurized close-the-deal negotiations. And being away from your family causes a sadness I never want to know. In the same way, he’s lonely, too. He’s thinking we’re home in a montage of hugs and kisses living an effortless work-life balance. When in fact, I was cleaning sh*t off the floor at 6:30 a.m., forgetting numerous deliverables at work and spending the evening negotiating at the nightly dinner/tub/jammies summit with a spirited 2-year-old.
Always have a backup plan. There is a third party in our marriage, and this party has more power than either of us — it’s “The Company.” It must be consulted before any decisions are made. There’s so much instability in a startup, most importantly income and schedule, very few things about life are ever predictable. Even after you’ve considered the position of “The Company” and made your decision accordingly, “The Company” won’t do what it was supposed to — because “The Company” is a temperamental b*tch. I usually start my thinking with solutions or alternatives to the worst-case scenario. Once I’ve worked through the worst outcome of any situation, I’m more than prepared if the anything less than the worst happens. I’ve rarely had to break the glass because I’m so conditioned to adjust, problem solve, and move on. It’s a learned skill, and there are many opportunities to practice.
Respect the end of the quarter. The end of the quarter for a startup begins day one of a new quarter; deals must close, revenue must be secured, new and existing clients must be confident. If the company doesn’t perform, the livelihood of your family is at risk. This is the reality of the pressure your partner deals with everyday, and it’s intense. The end of the quarter is tense and a lonely time for the spouse. I assume my husband will not be available at all during this time. I focus on maintaining normalcy in the house and have my sitters on-call if I need a break, a run or have to work late.
My job is important, too. My career does not belong to the startup. My career and my success are a part of my identity; a source of sanity and pride. It is important for me (though maybe not every startup spouse) to raise my children in a home where mommy works. I was raised by a single working mom and believe the greatest parts of me grew from watching my mom, the mom and the professional. I have architected a village that can provide support for our family needs as well as my own. When and if my husband can provide support he does but if he can’t, it’s a hurdle, not a wall.
You really do need a village. Soon after our first child was born, I knew I was in over my head. I also knew no one knew how to help me but me. I made a list of what I needed to quarterback this life 24/7. I found a therapist, babysitters, a honey-do guy, a cleaning service and reliable daycare, to name a few. When the unplanned occurred, I was (mostly) prepared by already having a support system in place.
This life isn’t for the faint of heart, but which life is? It’s scary and sometimes I cry from frustration, but I love our life. Everyday we adjust or stay the course, get through the f*cking hard stuff and enjoy as many of the perks (hello travel points!) as possible. Soon we’ll be out of these trenches and likely into another war, and we’re ready. Until then, we’ll get back to work. After all, it’s almost the end of the quarter.
This article originally appeared in Modernae.com, a pop culture-free lifestyle website for 21st century women.
