Marlo Thomas and Phil Donahue actually wrote the marital handbook.
The long-married couple’s book, What Makes a Marriage Last: Insider Stories, contains personal facts about their marriage. Forty Well-Known Couples Share Their Secrets with Us.
The most fascinating revelation made by Marlo is that, even though she and Phil have been married for over 40 years, she never really wanted to get married.
The famous person expressed in the book her previously negative opinion of the institution, saying that marriage is like a vacuum cleaner that sucks away all of your ambition and vitality when you stick it to your ear.
Thomas frequently shares her opinions, likening marriage to having to placate a prisoner. That is, until she met Donahue.
Phil Donahue and Marlo Thomas met following the dissolution of their first marriage, and they have remained lifelong friends ever since.
The Phil Donahue Show, which was eventually renamed as simply “Donahue,” was the vehicle through which Phil Donahue first gained popular recognition. For the first time, audience members participated in the program, which ran for 29 years. One of the visitors on his show who radically changed his life’s trajectory was Marlo Thomas.
The book claims that the two met in 1977 in Chicago, when Phil was bringing four children with him. His fifth child, a daughter, lived somewhere else with her mother and ex-wife.
Marlo and Phil dated for three years before being married in 1980 in front of a small wedding party of thirty-five guests.
Not surprise, Marlo’s friends and family were taken aback by the actress’s sudden change of heart. A hilarious story of Marlo’s bridal shower, where visitors hung notes from the soon-to-be bride that disclosed her past views on marriage, is featured in the couple’s book.
The book claims that Marlo’s mother was the most shocked of all, asking Donahue, “How did you get her to do this?” throughout the nuptials of the pair.
Reportedly, among other emotions, even total strangers voiced shock at the well-known social activist’s decision to get married. While Phil was in the lavatory, a passenger on the airplane the couple took to Greece for their honeymoon expressed displeasure to Marlo, presumably disappointed that she had given up her old independent streak.
In the book, Thomas is honest enough to acknowledge that something was unclear when they spoke. After all her life condemning marriage, was she suddenly a hypocrite for getting married? Had she let those down who held her in high regard as the embodiment of self-reliance?
Even though Donahue and Thomas discuss the usual ups and downs of their long marriage in the book, they manage to make their marriage work to this day. They describe these problems as teaching moments that deepened their relationship.
The couple had been apart from the beginning of their marriage, with Phil traveling to Chicago to tape his show and Marlo traveling to pursue her acting career.
Thomas had a greater understanding of how different individuals define marriage when his aunt said that the couple’s union was void because they weren’t living together exclusively. In spite of their separation, Thomas and Donahue were able to keep their marriage together. Significantly, Marlo’s marriage resulted in her having children.
In a 2012 interview with AARP, Thomas reflected on her experience helping Phil raise his kids, stating she went into it knowing that they already had a traditional mother and that would not be her role.
Rather, Marlo claims that she began to treat Phil’s children more like friends in an effort to mimic the parenting style of her own mother. She continues by saying that she feels more connected to them today than she did at the start of their marriage.
Donahue points out that Thomas really did strive to understand the lads in the book and spent as much time as she could getting to know his sons.
Phil and Marlo believe that their long marriage is a result of her strong bond with his kids and their mutual faith in each other. “You build trust when you realize that this person always has your back,” says Marlo in clarification.
Despite being married for more than 40 years, they still have more memories to make.
Phil goes on to argue that a marriage has to be desired by both parties in order for it to last. Marlo says she would never want to be anything other than married to her lover, echoing his sentiments. She claims that Donahue has assisted her “in every manner possible.”
When two people truly commit to one another, marriage is an incredibly lovely union that is made much more beautiful.
These two have a lot to teach and inspire us all. As satisfying as their relationship is, we should all strive to be in one!
My parents forced me to pay for my own dinner while they covered the bill for everyone else – Their justification was absurd
Jennifer’s parents caught her off guard during a family dinner by unexpectedly asking her to cover the cost of her meal, while they paid for everyone else. Jennifer’s resentment brews as the sting of unfairness deepens, setting the stage for a confrontation the family won’t forget.
The night I got the text from Mom about a “special family dinner,” I nearly choked on my microwaved ramen. It had been ages since we’d all gotten together, and even longer since it felt like my parents actually wanted me there.
love my family, but being the middle child is like being the bologna in a sandwich where everyone’s fighting over the bread.
I stared at my phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Part of me wanted to make up some lame excuse, but then I thought about Tina and Cameron, my perfect older sister and my can-do-no-wrong little brother.
They’d be there, basking in Mom and Dad’s approval, like always. And I’d remain the perpetual afterthought if I didn’t show up.
“Count me in,” I typed, hitting send before I could change my mind.
Mom replied instantly. “Great! Le Petit Château, 7 p.m. next Friday. Don’t be late!”
Le Petit Château. Fancy. I whistled low, already mentally tallying up my savings. This wasn’t going to be cheap, but hey, maybe it was a sign things were changing. Maybe they actually wanted to spend time with me, Jennifer the Forgettable.
That Friday, I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, feeling nervous. Just as I was about to go in, Mom and Dad showed up. Mom was all smiles, while Dad wore his usual concerned expression.
Inside, we found a cozy table, and soon after, Tina and Robert joined us. Tina looked stunning, as always, making me feel like a potato by comparison. Finally, Cameron arrived, late as usual, and complaining about traffic.
Now we were all settled, Mom wasted no time in making me feel insignificant.
“So, Jennifer,” Mom said, peering at me over her menu, “how’s work going? Still at that little marketing firm?”
I nodded, trying not to bristle at the ‘little’ part. “Yeah, it’s good. We just landed a pretty big client, actually. I’m heading up the campaign.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Mom said, her attention already drifting back to Tina, who was regaling Dad with tales of her son’s latest soccer game.
That stung, but the atmosphere improved while we ate. The food was great, and soon we were talking and laughing like we used to when I was a kid.
I was enjoying the meal and the rare feeling of being part of the family, but then the check came.
Dad reached for it and started going over the bill, like he always did. But then he frowned, looking directly at me.
“Jennifer,” he said, his voice oddly formal, “you’ll be covering your portion tonight.”
I blinked, sure I’d heard him wrong. “What?”
“You’re an adult now,” he continued, as if explaining something to a child. “It’s time you start paying your own way.”
“But…” I started, my voice small, “I thought this was a family dinner. You’re paying for everyone else.”
Dad’s frown deepened. “Your sister and brother have families to support. You’re single, so it’s only fair.”
Fair. The word echoed in my head, mocking me. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. Without a word, I pulled out my credit card and handed it to the waiter, praying it wouldn’t get declined.
The rest of the night was a blur. As I drove home, the hurt began to curdle into something else. Something harder, angrier.
The next morning, I woke up with a headache and a heart full of resentment. I spent the day alternating between moping on the couch and pacing my apartment like a caged animal. By evening, something inside me had shifted.
I wasn’t just going to let this go. Not this time.
An idea started to form. Crazy at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I was going to give them a taste of their own medicine.
I invited Mom and Dad over for dinner and then spent days perfecting the menu. I cleaned my apartment until it sparkled, bought fancy candles, and even splurged on a tablecloth that didn’t come from the dollar store.
The night of the dinner arrived, and I was eerily calm. I had a plan, and I was sticking to it.
The doorbell rang at 7 p.m. sharp. I took a deep breath and opened the door with a smile plastered on my face.
“Mom, Dad! Come in!”
Dad handed me a bottle of wine. “Place looks nice, Jennifer.”
“Thanks,” I said, ushering them to the living room. “Dinner’s almost ready. Can I get you something to drink?”
As I poured their wine, Mom settled onto the couch, her eyes roaming over my bookshelf. “So, how have you been, dear? We haven’t heard much from you since… well, since our last dinner.”
I forced a light laugh. “Oh, you know how it is. Work’s been crazy busy.”
We made small talk for a while, the conversation stilted and full of long pauses. Finally, the oven timer beeped, saving us all.
“Dinner’s ready!” I announced, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.
I’d outdone myself with the meal: herb-crusted salmon, roasted vegetables, and a quinoa salad that had taken forever to get right. Mom and Dad made appropriate noises of appreciation as they ate.
“This is delicious, Jennifer,” Mom said, sounding genuinely impressed. “I didn’t know you could cook like this.”
I shrugged, tamping down the flare of resentment at her surprise. “I’ve picked up a few things over the years.”
The dinner progressed smoothly, almost pleasantly. I almost forgot why I’d invited them over in the first place. Then Dad started with one of his lectures about financial responsibility, and I knew it was time.
As I cleared the plates and brought out a fancy tiramisu for dessert, I steeled myself. This was it.
“So,” I said casually, setting down the dessert plates, “I hope you enjoyed the meal.”
They both nodded, smiling. “It was wonderful, dear,” Mom said.
I smiled back, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Great. That’ll be $47.50 each, please.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Mom’s fork clattered against her plate, and Dad’s face went through a rapid series of emotions – confusion, disbelief, and then anger.
“I’m sorry, what?” he sputtered.
I kept my voice calm, channeling Dad’s tone from that night at the restaurant. “Well, you’re both adults. It’s time you started paying your own way.”
Mom’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “But… but this is your home. You invited us.”
“Yes,” I said, my voice hardening slightly. “Just like you invited me to Le Petit Château. And then made me pay for my meal while covering everyone else’s.”
Understanding dawned on their faces, quickly followed by shame.
“Jennifer,” Dad started, his voice gruff. “That’s not… we didn’t mean…”
“Didn’t mean what?” I interrupted, years of pent-up frustration finally boiling over.
“Didn’t mean to make me feel like I’m worth less than Tina or Cameron? Didn’t mean to constantly overlook me? Or did you just not mean to get called out on it?”
Mom reached out, trying to take my hand, but I pulled away. “Sweetie, we had no idea you felt this way.”
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course you didn’t. Do you have any idea what it’s like to always be the afterthought in your own family?”
Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“We love you just as much as your siblings, Jennifer.”
“Do you?” I challenged. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’m just as successful as Tina, just as hardworking as Cameron. But somehow, I’m always the one who’s expected to ‘act like an adult’ while they get a free pass.”
The room fell silent again, but this time it was heavy with unspoken words and long-ignored feelings.
Finally, Dad cleared his throat. “We… we owe you an apology, Jennifer. A big one.”
Mom nodded, tears in her eyes. “We never meant to make you feel less valued. You’re our daughter, and we love you so much. We’ve just… we’ve done a terrible job of showing it.”
I felt my own eyes welling up, but I blinked back the tears. “I don’t want your apologies. I want you to do better. To be better. To see me.”
Dad stood up, his movements stiff. For a moment, I thought he was going to leave.
Instead, he walked around the table and hugged me. It was awkward and a little too tight, but it was more genuine than any interaction we’d had in years.
“We see you, Jennifer,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “And we’re so, so proud of you. We’ve been blind and stupid, and we’ve taken you for granted. But that ends now.”
Mom joined the hug, and for a minute, we just stood there, a tangle of arms and unshed tears and long-overdue honesty.
When we finally broke apart, Mom wiped her eyes and gave a watery chuckle. “So, about that bill…”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell you what. This one’s on the house. But next time we go out? We’re splitting the check evenly. All of us.”
Dad nodded solemnly. “Deal.”
As they left that night, things weren’t magically fixed. Years of feeling overlooked and undervalued don’t disappear in one conversation. But it was a start. A crack in the wall I’d built around myself, letting in a glimmer of hope.
Leave a Reply