Marriage Is Not Ownership, It’s a Partnership
By Pat Solitano
People think they know what marriage is. They say it’s about being together forever, or never giving up, or making it work no matter what. But a lot of those same people treat marriage like it’s a thing you possess—like once you get married, the other person is yours. Like a trophy or a piece of property. But I’ve been through some stuff, and I’m here to say: that’s not it. That’s not what love is. Marriage is not ownership. It’s a partnership.
I used to think like that. I thought Nikki was mine. Like if I just worked hard enough, stayed in shape, and read the right books, she’d come back to me, because I deserved her. But that’s not how it works. You don’t earn a person like a medal. You don’t get to keep someone just because you want to. Love doesn’t mean control. Love means respect. It means understanding the other person has their own thoughts, fears, dreams, and needs. It means walking next to someone, not trying to walk them like a dog.
When I met Tiffany, I started to learn that. We were both messed up. I mean, seriously messed up. But instead of trying to fix each other or own each other, we started listening. We danced. We trained. We got to know each other—not the versions we wished we were, but the people we actually were. I didn’t save her, and she didn’t save me. We helped each other. That’s what partners do.
A partnership means both people show up. It means give and take. It means being honest, even when it’s hard. You don’t put the other person on a pedestal, and you don’t put them in a cage. You walk beside them, and when they fall, you help them up—not because they’re yours, but because you care.
That’s what I believe now. That’s what I’ve learned. Marriage, if it’s gonna work, has to be built on equality, not possession. You’re not someone’s property. You’re their partner. You’re in it together, not alone. And that, in my opinion, is the real silver lining.
A Reply to Pat — Let’s Talk About Rings and Rome
By Tiffany Maxwell
Pat, I get what you’re saying. And honestly, I think it’s beautiful. I like that you’re starting to see love as a partnership instead of some fantasy where you win the girl like a prizefighter. But let me take it back—way back. Let’s talk about the Roman Empire. Yeah, I said it. You didn’t expect that, huh?
See, wedding rings? They weren’t always about love. In ancient Rome, a ring was a symbol of ownership. Literal ownership. The man gave the woman a ring to mark her as his. She couldn’t give one back—because she wasn’t allowed to own him. She was property. Like a house. Or a goat. Or a piece of land.
The ring was iron at first. Cold, unbreakable, like a chain. Later it became gold, because even cages get fancy. But the meaning was the same: “You’re mine.” And women went along with it because they had no choice. Society told them it was romantic. Told them it was security. But it was control. Legalized control. Wrapped in a bow.
And the sad part? A lot of that stuff is still around. Not in the law exactly, but in the way people talk about marriage. “My wife.” “My husband.” Like we’re collecting people. Like someone else’s body and time and energy belongs to us just because of a ceremony. Pat, even your whole thing with Nikki—reading the books she teaches, running to get in shape for her—it was like you thought you could earn her back like a lost item. But women aren’t items. We don’t have price tags. We aren’t yours.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not against love. Or commitment. Or even rings, if they mean something real. But let’s stop pretending this stuff is pure and sacred when its history is built on control and inequality. Let’s admit that if marriage is gonna mean something today, we have to rewire it. Redefine it. We have to strip away the empire nonsense and actually build something mutual.
So yeah, you’re right—marriage should be a partnership. But let’s not forget: the world still teaches us to see it as ownership. And until we face that, we’re just putting new paint on old chains.
Tiffany: (playfully) So why do people wear wedding rings, anyway?
Pat: You know… it’s actually kind of beautiful. They say wedding rings were invented to mimic the shape of the sun during an eclipse — that perfect circle of light around the shadow. Like, even in total darkness, there’s still this halo. That’s love, right? Enduring through the dark.
Tiffany: (softly) That’s… surprisingly poetic. Where’d you hear that?
Pat: (grins) I made it up. But it sounds legit, doesn’t it?
Tiffany: (laughs) You should copyright that.
Pat: I’d rather trademark us. Speaking of which… you ever see Apocalypto?
Tiffany: The Mel Gibson one?
Pat: Yeah. Brutal, raw, gorgeous. Like love in the jungle. We should watch it together. It’ll make the ring symbolism hit different.
Tiffany: (raising an eyebrow) That’s your idea of date night?
Pat: Trust me. After Apocalypto, everything feels more intense. Even holding hands.
Tiffany: (leans back, eyes serious) Just so you know… I hate Tiffany diamond rings. And I can’t stand Victoria’s Secret lingerie either.
Pat: (blinks) Uh… okay, noted. No push-up bras and overpriced sparkle. Got it.
Tiffany: I’m not some catalog fantasy, Pat. If you’re gonna marry me, I want something real. I want your mom’s engagement ring. And her wedding band too. That’s the only kind of bling I’d ever wear.
Pat: (quiet for a moment) Wow… You’re serious.
Tiffany: Dead serious. I don’t want anything new. I want something that’s been through love, loss, years. Something with a soul. Not a brand name.
Pat: (nods slowly) You want to wear my mom’s rings?
Tiffany: Yeah. I want to wear her story. And maybe… keep writing it with you.
Pat: (smiles, a little choked up) Damn. That’s heavier than Apocalypto.
Tiffany: (smirks) Everything is. Even holding hands, remember?
Pat: (smiling gently) You know what? I actually made something for you.
Tiffany: Oh no… what did you do?
Pat: I made you a music video. Kind of a tribute. It’s… Breakfast at Tiffany’s — with clips from the movie and that song by Deep Blue Something.
Tiffany: (half-laughs) You mean Deep Blue Sea?
Pat: (laughs) No, no — not the shark movie. The band! “And I said, what about Breakfast at Tiffany’s?” You know the one. It’s cheesy but… it felt right.
Tiffany: (softens) You made me a whole video?
Pat: Yeah. I just wanted you to know… no matter what happens — I’ll always love you. Not just in the romance way. Like… soul-level loyalty. I’ll always be your friend, Tiff.
Tiffany: (quiet for a moment) That’s the most ‘Pat’ thing you could’ve done.
Pat: Yeah, well. You hate diamonds, I make mixtapes. We’re weird. But we fit.
Tiffany: (smiles) We do fit. Even in the dark, we’re still that eclipse ring.
Pat: Exactly.
Tiffany: (eyes welling with tears) Just… stay, Pat.
Pat: (steps closer, voice gentle) I’m here.
Tiffany: No, I mean… next time we meet — wherever that is… just stay. Don’t leave. Don’t disappear into your head, or run, or ghost me with your pain.
Pat: (voice breaking) Tiff…
Tiffany: (tears streaming now) I don’t need you to fix anything. I just need you to stay Pat. That’s all I ever needed.
Pat: (choked up, barely a whisper) I’ll stay. I swear.
Tiffany: (nods, eyes locked on his) Then maybe… maybe that ring of light never breaks.
Mel Gibson: (emerging from the shadow like a battle-worn prophet, voice gravelly)
“He’ll come back.”
Tiffany: (startled) Mel…?
Mel Gibson: “Pat’s not just a man. He’s a patriot. A warrior. A soldier of the soul. When the last trumpet sounds, and the skies crack open above us — that’s when you’ll see him rise again. He’s a patriot of Armageddon, Tiffany. The last battle between good and evil.”
Tiffany: (shaken, tears still fresh) I don’t want a warrior, I just want him.
Mel Gibson: “Then pray for him. Love him. And remember — even in the eclipse, the light never truly dies.”
Pat: (whispers to himself) A patriot of Armageddon… (looks at Tiffany) But still your friend first.
Mel Gibson: (placing a hand on Pat’s shoulder) “When the world burns, it’s love that carries the bucket.”
Tiffany: (quietly, to herself) Then let it be full.