As a self-professed romantic comedy enthusiast, I eagerly anticipated the release of "This Is 40" over a decade ago. The film, starring Leslie Mann and Paul Rudd as a couple navigating marital struggles while approaching their fortieth birthdays, seemed like perfect date night material. What I couldn't predict was that this movie would become permanently etched in my memory for an entirely different reason—it was the final film I watched with my husband before our divorce.
The Unforgettable Date Night
When "This Is 40" premiered on December 21, 2012, I had been looking forward to it for weeks. My husband and I desperately needed a lighthearted escape from our own relationship tensions. The movie promised to deliver exactly what we needed: humor about marital ups and downs, parenting challenges, and the dreaded milestone of turning forty.
I expected to laugh alongside other couples in the theater, feeling temporary relief that mammograms and colonoscopies were still years away from being my reality. Instead, the comedy fell completely flat. Sitting beside a husband who refused to laugh or even acknowledge me, I realized our relationship had reached its breaking point.
When Fiction Mirrors Reality Too Closely
The film's plot hit uncomfortably close to home. Debbie and Pete's constant bickering mirrored our own arguments. Their awkward attempts at therapist-recommended communication reminded me of our failed marriage counseling sessions. Even their romantic getaway—where they temporarily reconnected through pool kisses, getting high, and bed-jumping—echoed our own pattern of escaping problems only to return to the same unresolved issues.
One particular scene struck me deeply. When Debbie declares, "The happiest period in people's lives is from age 40 to 60. So this is it. We're in it right now," I found myself doing the math. At thirty-six years old, I had just four years until I entered this supposedly happiest phase of life. Would my marriage transform enough by then to make this true?
Debbie's insistence that "We have everything we need right now to be completely happy" and her conclusion that "So let's just choose to be happy" left me questioning everything. Could happiness really be a simple choice? My husband's stony silence throughout the film suggested otherwise.
The Wake-Up Call That Changed Everything
As the credits rolled and we left Debbie and Pete behind, I knew our marriage had reached its conclusion. The movie that was supposed to provide comic relief instead held up an unavoidable mirror to our relationship. One week later, I consulted a divorce attorney. Our legal separation followed shortly after, and within a year, our divorce was finalized.
For years afterward, I couldn't bear to watch "This Is 40" again, quickly changing the channel whenever it appeared. The memories were too painful, the parallels too stark. But now, over a decade later, I've developed a different relationship with the film.
Today, I watch it whenever it's on television. I've come to appreciate it for what it truly was—not the romantic date night I'd hoped for, but the crucial wake-up call I needed. The movie ultimately taught me to choose happiness, though my version looked different from Debbie and Pete's fictional reconciliation. And finally, after all these years, I can genuinely laugh while watching it.
