How men change the longer a relationship lasts

Remember those first few months of a relationship? The “audition period,” when a man is on his absolute best behaviour. He’s clean. He’s attentive. He’s listening so hard you can practically hear the whirring of effort behind his eyes.

He’s opening doors, complimenting haircuts, pretending to love candlelit dinners and reality TV. He’s even using moisturiser. It’s the bloke’s version of the mating dance – all puffed feathers and polished shoes.

Then, slowly, inevitably, something shifts. The shirt starts to look suspiciously familiar. That bottle of cologne hasn’t been touched since the Morrison government. The romantic dinners become takeaway in front of the footy. And that attentive listener who once said, “Tell me more about your day,” now grunts from behind a newspaper, “You told me that yesterday.”

It’s not that we stop loving our partners – they just stop auditioning. See, early-relationship men are like show dogs: they’ve been brushed, fluffed, and trained to perform. Long-term men are working dogs: loyal, dependable, occasionally muddy, and happiest when left alone for an afternoon nap.

Some call it laziness. I prefer to think of it as relaxation with confidence. It’s the comfort that comes from knowing you’re accepted, warts and all – even if one of those warts snores like a chainsaw.

And ladies, you have to admit: you change too. Remember those early days when you’d laugh at all our jokes, even the bad ones? These days, men get a blank stare that says, “You’ve told that story six times, Trevor.” The glamour gives way to pragmatism on both sides. You stop pretending they’re mysterious, and we stop pretending they can fix things.

The truth is, time strips away the pretense. What’s left – if you’re lucky – is something better: the kind of love built on shared history, mutual forgiveness, and the ability to argue about the correct dishwasher stacking technique without calling the lawyer.

Of course, there are limits. If you’ve been wearing the same pair of trackies since Kevin Rudd’s first term, maybe it’s time for a wardrobe intervention. You can be comfortable without being feral. Every so often, pull yourself together – have a shave, put on a clean shirt, and surprise her by remembering your anniversary without Facebook’s help.

Because here’s the real test: not whether you can impress your partner, but whether you can still make them laugh after 30 years of knowing exactly what they’ve signed up for.

So yes, men change. They start as polished presenters and end up as scruffy originals. But that’s okay. Because when the mask slips and the real man shows up – belly, bald patch, bad jokes and all – that’s when you know it’s the real thing.

And if you’re reading this while wearing your oldest T-shirt and scratching yourself absent-mindedly – congratulations, mate. You’ve made it.