Wheelchairs, Lovers, and Small Choices

Transformationship is about the positive transformation of relationships.

Most people encounter our work through leadership and workplace culture—teams, trust, accountability, communication patterns. That’s intentional. These principles matter at work.

But marriage was our first proving ground, our first specialty, and our continued passion.

And it remains one of the clearest.

The same principles that determine whether a team thrives or erodes are the ones that determine the success of a marriage. They show up at the conference table, the family table—and certainly in the bedroom. 

One of our favorite and one of the most formative marriage stories we love to share is a good illustration of why small daily choices outperform big declarations.

The husband was already wheelchair-bound when they got married. This wasn’t some tragedy that arrived later. No bait-and-switch. No hope that things would be “normal first and hard later.” The limitations were visible, permanent, and understood from the beginning.

Caregiving would be part of the marriage.

Mobility would always be restricted.

Physical symmetry would never exist.

And she chose him anyway.

Not because of romance or excitement—but not without them, either!

Deliberately.

What made this marriage powerful wasn’t sacrifice or heroism—it was clarity. She didn’t frame herself as a saint. She didn’t pretend love would erase loss. She understood the costs and walked into that relationship without illusion.

That marriage required constant adjustment. Effort was not evenly distributed and never would be. Some losses couldn’t be solved with better communication or stronger intention. Certain fantasies of marriage had to be set down permanently.

And yet the marriage did not hollow out.

It adapted.

Intimacy didn’t disappear—it changed. Communication didn’t shrink—it became more intentional. Love stopped relying on intensity and started relying on presence.

There was no turning point. No payoff moment. No chapter where things suddenly got easier.

That was the story.

She didn’t stay because she was trapped. She stayed because she chose—again and again. Difficulty existed, but it didn’t calcify into resentment. Suffering was there, but it was never interpreted as a verdict against the marriage.

They were married for twenty-one years. (I still believe he outlived his diagnosis by decades because of what they had.) They raised three children together. She would later say those were the happiest years of her life. He was her person. Even after his death, she kept his name—not from grief alone, but from loyalty to what they built.

This story dismantles several cultural myths:

Love does not have to be symmetrical to be fair.

Endurance is not grim survival—it is active participation over time.

Commitment is proven through daily contributions, not declarations.

Big promises impress people, but small, repeated choices transform them.

That’s true in marriage.

It’s true in leadership.

And it’s true everywhere relationships are asked to last.

🎧 Listen to the podcast: https://open.spotify.com/episode/2LjT7OemzYkcufaWSQqhY1?si=we9KMsKnTheVQjkHcd8ghQ