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The Right Fit Marriage Academy

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The Right Fit Marriage Academy

Africa's Marriage Academy
We educate you, Single or Married, to enjoy your Marriage Hello there! What is The Right Fit Marriage Academy? Who is this for? c. d.

My name is Modupe Ehirim and welcome to The Right Fit Marriage Academy.

1. The Right Fit Marriage Academy is a membership based online/offline learning community devoted to helping members achieve their dream of a really happy lifelong marriage relationship and a home environment that gives them joy. There are 3 levels of memberships: Bronze, Silver, and Gold. The bronze level membership is free while the silver and gold levels are paid memberships. Each membership level comes with specific set of benefits and privileges.

2. The Right Fit Marriage Academy is specifically designed to cater to the needs of married people who feel:
a. Dissatisfied with their marriage and wonder, “Is this how things will continue? Will there be a change for the better?”
b. That they are not experiencing the kind of marriage that they have dreamed of. Helpless and think that they have limited choices in their present marital situations. Sometimes emotionally and physically overwhelmed. I am honored, happy to support YOU on your journey to a happy lifelong marriage relationship and a home environment that gives you joy!

31/01/2026

By the time I turned thirty-two, the question stopped being casual.

At weddings, it came wrapped in jokes.
At family gatherings, it sounded like concern.
At night, alone, it echoed in my own thoughts.

“Is it not time?”

I had done many of the “right things.” A steady career. Emotional growth. A clearer sense of who I was and what I wanted. Yet something in me resisted the idea that marriage was simply about reaching a certain age or season on the calendar.

My friend married at twenty-four and seemed settled. Another married at thirty-five and still struggled. The timelines didn’t add up.

So I began to ask a different question—not when but how.

I noticed something subtle. The people who suffered most in marriage weren’t always the ones who married “late.”

They were often the ones who entered it unprepared for the weight of partnership. They loved deeply but hadn’t learned to communicate honestly. They desired companionship but hadn’t built emotional regulation. They wanted peace but avoided difficult conversations.

I realized readiness had little to do with age and everything to do with capacity.

I remembered a conversation with someone I once dated. Everything looked right on paper, but every disagreement felt like a threat. Silence replaced dialogue. Ego replaced curiosity. It ended—not because the timing was wrong, but because the readiness wasn’t there.

That’s when it became clear.

There is no universal “right time” to marry. Life doesn’t follow a single schedule. But there is a level of readiness that matters deeply—the readiness to grow, to repair, to listen, to be accountable.

So, I stopped rushing after that. I focused less on the clock and more on my inner work. Because marriage, I understood now, is not a race against time—it’s a commitment to readiness.

And when the time eventually comes, it won’t be because the calendar said so.
It will be because I am prepared to meet marriage not just with love—but with wisdom.

So is there a “right time” to marry? Maybe not in the way society defines it. Time alone does not prepare a person for partnership. Readiness does. Readiness to communicate honestly, to take responsibility, to grow through conflict instead of running from it.

Marriage entered too early without readiness can feel heavy, while marriage entered later with emotional maturity can feel steady and life-giving. In the end, the most important question is not “Am I late or early?” but “Am I ready to do the work love requires?”

©️ Modupe Ehirim

21/01/2026

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE CHOSEN CONSISTENTLY — NOT DRAMATICALLY

Many of us grow up mistaking emotional drama for devotion. We learn to associate love with highs and lows — deep talks after conflict, reassurance after neglect, affection after distance.

So when someone chooses us only in moments of crisis, it feels meaningful. It feels intense. It feels like love.

But consistency doesn’t shout. It doesn’t rush in only when things are falling apart.

Being chosen consistently looks quieter — and that’s why many people miss it.

It’s the partner who checks in without being prompted.
The one who keeps you in mind when making decisions, even when you’re not in the room.
The one whose actions don’t change based on mood, convenience, or external pressure.

There’s no dramatic comeback because there was no unnecessary disappearance.
No grand apology because there was no pattern of repeated harm.
No emotional rollercoaster because safety doesn’t need suspense.

Consistent choosing is steady, predictable, sometimes even “boring” to those who are used to chaos.

But that steadiness is what builds trust.
It’s what allows emotional safety to grow.
It’s what makes love sustainable — not just exciting.

Many people say, “I love you, I am just not expressive.”
But love doesn’t need constant performance. It needs reliability.

When someone truly chooses you, you don’t have to decode their intentions. You don’t have to earn basic respect. You don’t have to compete with uncertainty.

You rest.

And that rest is often the clearest sign of being loved well.

This is because being chosen consistently doesn’t always come with fireworks — but it comes with peace. And in the long run, peace is what allows love to last. Not the dramatic declarations, but the daily decision to show up, stay present, and choose each other again and again.

©️ Modupe Ehirim

15/01/2026

One of my students shared with me the experience he had when trust was broken in his marriage

They were sitting across from each other, doing something ordinary.
Dinner half-finished. Phones face down. The room was quiet in a way that felt heavier than silence.

Nothing new had happened that day.
No argument.
No accusation.

Yet the wife kept glancing up, searching his face — not for answers, but for settlement.

Later that night, she said;
“I don’t know why I still feel like this. We talked about it already.”

After sharing their experience, I told him that this is often where couples get stuck when trust is broken.

Because what changed was not just what happened.
What changed was how the body now listens.

Before, words landed easily.
Now they are weighed.

Before, silence felt neutral.
Now it feels ambiguous.

Before, closeness allowed rest.
Now it requires effort.

What couples often struggle to name is that trust doesn’t only live in agreements or explanations.
It lives in the nervous system.

So when something ruptures trust, whether it was a secret, a boundary crossed, a truth delayed, the system adapts quietly automatically.

One partner becomes more alert.
Not suspicious in the way they can explain

The other becomes more careful.
Trying to reassure. Trying not to trigger. Trying to move forward.

Both are working hard.
Neither feels fully met.

This is why reassurance often falls flat after trust is broken.
Why “I’ve said sorry” doesn’t settle the atmosphere.
Why promises don’t restore ease.

What was lost was not belief, it was felt safety.

And felt safety cannot be argued back into place.

Many couples rush past this moment because it feels uncomfortable to stay here.
They want to repair quickly.
They want to return to “normal.”

But trust does not rebuild at the speed of intention.
It rebuilds at the speed of regulation.

Through repeated moments where nothing dramatic happens, and yet something settles.
Through consistency that does not demand recognition.
Through presence that does not become defensive when questions arise.

This is often the part no one prepares couples for.

That repairing trust is not a single conversation.
It is a season of relearning how to rest in each other again.

And that requires capacity.

The capacity to sit with another person’s vigilance without resenting it.
The capacity to stay open without needing immediate relief.
The capacity to allow closeness to return gradually, without controlling the timeline.

Some couples discover, in this space, that trust didn’t only break between them.
It revealed something unfinished within each of them.

A difficulty tolerating uncertainty.
A fear of being closely observed.
A need to feel resolved quickly.

None of this is a verdict.
It is information.

And sometimes, naming that, rather than rushing toward forgiveness or forgetting is where repair actually begins.

©️ Modupe Ehirim

13/01/2026

At the beginning, it felt easy.

They talked late into the night, finishing each other’s sentences, laughing at how naturally everything flowed. When disagreements came up, they were resolved quickly — sometimes before they fully surfaced.

Friends called it chemistry.
They called it peace.

What no one noticed was how often one of them adjusted first.
How quickly they softened their needs to keep the tone light.
How silence became the preferred solution whenever tension appeared.

Nothing about this felt harmful.
It felt considerate. Mature. Loving.

But this is how many harmful patterns begin.

Not as problems, but as solutions.

Early in a relationship, patterns form under low pressure.
Life hasn’t demanded much yet. There are no shared bills, no exhausted evenings, no layered responsibilities.

Adaptations work smoothly here.

Avoidance feels like calm.
Over-functioning feels like care.
Self-silencing feels like compromise.

Because nothing is strained yet, the pattern doesn’t announce itself.

Time doesn’t reveal harmful dynamics.
Pressure does.

As life becomes fuller — work stress, family expectations, financial decisions — the same adaptations start to feel heavier.

Conversations circle instead of land. Resentment quietly builds.

One partner begins to carry more emotional weight, while the other feels increasingly uncertain about what’s wrong.

By the time the pattern becomes uncomfortable, attachment is already deep.
Hope is invested. History exists.

So instead of questioning the pattern, couples manage it.

They explain it away.
They work around it.
They tell themselves this is just what relationships require.

This is why harmful patterns are often missed early.

They don’t arrive as red flags.
They arrive as familiar ways of coping.

Ways learned long before the relationship began.

When strain finally exposes the cost, it can feel confusing and disorienting.
“How did we get here?”
“We weren’t like this before.”

But you were. Just not under pressure.

The issue is not who is at fault, but what capacity was missing when the pattern formed.

The capacity to stay present during discomfort.
The capacity to tolerate conflict without withdrawing.
The capacity to hold differences without collapsing or controlling.

These are not moral failures.
They are developmental gaps.

And seeing them clearly doesn’t mean the relationship is doomed.
It means something important has been revealed.

Harmful patterns are often missed early because they are quiet, adaptive, and familiar.
They become visible only when the relationship asks more than those adaptations can give.

That moment of recognition is not the end of the story.

It is the place where a different way of relating can begin — more conscious, more regulated, and more honest about what the relationship actually requires.

©️ Modupe Ehirim

10/01/2026

Marriage is not 50/50

Watch the video below to see how real partner win

06/01/2026

I came across a post on Facebook that stayed with me longer than I expected.

A woman shared that her mother-in-law called her husband every morning to tell him what his wife should cook for him. He checked in with his mother before deciding how much money to give his household. Even when his wife asked for money, he called his mother first.

When she became pregnant, he informed his mother.

When she gave birth, he informed his mother again—and told his wife that her own mother could only visit after his mother had left.

She ended her post with a simple sentence:

“I don’t enjoy my marriage. The interference is too much. What should I do?”

What struck me wasn’t just the level of involvement.

It was how normal the arrangement seemed to everyone involved—except the woman living inside it.

In many cultures, particularly across Africa, marriage is rarely experienced as a union of two people alone. Families remain deeply connected, involved, and influential. This closeness can be a source of strength and support. But sometimes, it quietly crosses into something else.

Not malice.
Not control in the dramatic sense.
But a lack of emotional separation.

In psychology, this is often described as enmeshment—a family pattern where boundaries between individuals are blurred, and autonomy is experienced as disloyalty rather than maturity.

In enmeshed systems, decisions are rarely made internally.

Emotional authority remains external.
And marriage becomes an extension of a parent–child dynamic rather than the formation of a new adult partnership.

What is important to notice here is that no one in the story appears to be intentionally cruel.

The husband may genuinely believe he is being respectful.

The mother may believe she is being helpful.

The system itself is what is unexamined.
This is why in-law challenges are rarely just about in-laws.

They often reveal deeper questions:

Where does emotional authority live in this marriage?

Who feels permitted to decide?

What does loyalty mean—and who defines it?

What level of individuation was achieved before marriage?

These patterns usually predate the relationship. Marriage doesn’t create them; it makes them visible.

For the person married into an enmeshed system, the experience can feel disorienting. There may be no clear conflict to point to, yet a persistent sense of displacement—of not fully belonging in one’s own marriage.

Not because boundaries were violated once, but because they were never clearly formed.

This is where reflection becomes more important than reaction.

Before asking, “How do we manage in-law pressure?”

There is often a quieter question underneath:

“What family patterns did we each bring into this marriage—and how prepared were we to renegotiate them?”

Formation-oriented work focuses here.
Not on confrontation scripts or surface-level solutions, but on helping couples understand:

how family systems shape emotional loyalty

how individuation supports marital stability

and how boundaries are an internal capacity before they are an external action

Programs like the Married People’s Group exist to support this deeper work—not to villainize families, but to help couples see the systems they are operating within and decide, consciously, how they want to function going forward.

Because navigating in-law dynamics is rarely about winning a battle.
It is about forming a marriage that is emotionally grounded enough to hold connection and separation at the same time.

And that capacity is learned—not assumed.

©️ Modupe Ehirim

05/01/2026

Emotional readiness for marriage rarely announces itself clearly.

It doesn’t arrive as confidence, certainty, or the feeling of being “done” with personal growth.

More often, it shows up quietly—in how a person relates to themselves when no one else is watching.

Many people enter marriage deeply in love, sincerely hopeful, and genuinely committed—yet still unprepared for the emotional demands of shared life. Not because they lack intention, but because intention and capacity are not the same thing.

Emotional readiness is less about how much you love someone, and more about how you function when love is stretched by reality.

In real life, emotional readiness often reveals itself in subtle ways.

For some, it becomes visible in their relationship with the past. Not because the past has disappeared, but because it no longer silently governs the present. Old wounds, disappointments, or family patterns may still be remembered—but they are no longer unconsciously reenacted. There is an ability to notice emotional reactions without immediately acting on them. Space has been created between what happened before and what is happening now.

For others, readiness shows up in how they engage difficult conversations.
Not with perfect language, but with a willingness to stay present. There is less urgency to win, defend, or withdraw. Discomfort is tolerated long enough for understanding to emerge. Communication becomes less about control and more about connection.

And then there is the quieter marker that often goes unnoticed: the ability to be emotionally whole without needing a partner to provide identity, direction, or meaning.

This does not mean independence without attachment.
It means entering marriage with a sense of self that can remain intact even as life becomes shared. Two people growing together, without either disappearing in the process.

What emotional readiness asks is not:
“Am I healed enough?”
or
“Am I good enough for marriage?”

It asks something gentler—and more demanding:
“How do I respond when intimacy requires consistency, patience, and emotional responsibility?”

Marriage does not create emotional maturity.
It exposes the level of capacity that already exists.

This is why readiness is not something to perform or prove.
It is something to notice.

Noticing where you become reactive.
Noticing what overwhelms you.
Noticing how you handle dependence, disappointment, and difference.

These observations are not failures.
They are information.

And it is often at this point—when people begin to recognise patterns rather than judge themselves—that deeper formation becomes possible.

That is why The Get Yourself Ready for Marriage is not designed to rush people toward marriage, or to declare who is “ready.”

It exists to support this reflective phase—to help individuals understand their internal patterns, strengthen emotional capacity, and approach partnership with clarity rather than assumption.

Because emotional readiness is not about perfection. It is about awareness, and awareness is where sustainable love actually begins.

©️ Modupe Ehirim

03/01/2026

It was the first week of November 2025.

The year was winding down, and my Chairman and I sat across the dining table—not to solve a problem, not because something was wrong, but simply to reflect.

I looked at him and said, almost softly,
“The years we have ahead of us are fewer than the ones we’ve already lived together. What do you think we could do differently in 2026—not to fix anything—but to enjoy what we have more fully?”

He smiled before answering. Not hurried. Not defensive.

“I think we’ve grown,” he said. “But maybe we could be more intentional about time. Real time.”

That was all.
But that single exchange opened something larger.

Over several mornings, the conversation returned—not as a scheduled meeting, but as a shared orientation. We talked about where we had been. What we had already done well without noticing. What we had postponed because life felt busy or because there always seemed to be more time ahead.

We spoke about our children—not just what we had provided for them, but what kind of legacy still felt unfinished.

We spoke about the communities we belong to, and the quiet responsibility that comes with being rooted somewhere for long enough to matter.

We even spoke, calmly, about death. About the reality that one of us will eventually leave the other behind, and what kind of emotional and practical preparation that reality requires.
Nothing about those conversations felt heavy.
They felt grounding.

We also spoke about ourselves as individuals.
I shared my desire to see 2,500 men and women go through the Get Yourself Ready for Marriage program. He didn’t applaud immediately. He asked questions. He challenged my assumptions. He offered a perspective I hadn’t considered.

Then he shared his own goals. And this time, I listened—not as a cheerleader, but as a partner invested in clarity.

What struck me afterward was this:
None of these conversations were driven by urgency or fear.

They emerged from emotional capacity.
Many people assume that setting relationship goals is something couples do when things are falling apart.

But what I’ve come to see is that intentional conversations are often a sign of stability, not crisis.

They don’t happen when people are trying to rescue a relationship.
They happen when people feel safe enough to examine it.

What these moments revealed wasn’t ambition—it was readiness.

Readiness to think together.
Readiness to hold complexity without panic.
Readiness to acknowledge time without rushing against it.

This is the part of relationships that often gets missed online.

Not the dramatic conversations.
Not the ultimatums.

Not the “where is this going?” tension.
But the quieter orientation questions:
How do we want to experience our life together now?

What assumptions are we carrying forward without reviewing them?

What capacities do we need more of—not from each other, but within ourselves?

These are not questions that demand immediate answers.

They ask for presence.
They ask for honesty without judgment.
They ask for a willingness to look inward before looking outward.

Not when something is broken.
But when insight starts to surface—about patterns, readiness gaps, and the kind of partnership two people are actually building beneath the routines of daily life.

This is why we created The Get Yourself Ready for Marriage as a structured space to help you understand internal patterns, strengthen emotional capacity, and approach relationships with clarity rather than assumption.

Because the most meaningful growth rarely begins with answers.

It begins when we slow down enough to notice what our relationships are quietly asking of us.

And sometimes, all it takes is a calm conversation across a dining table to hear it.

©️ Modupe Ehirim

31/12/2025

Healthy relationships don't just happen

There are things you must know and do if you want to have a healthy relationship

Watch the video below to learn these secrets

Rooting for you 😊

29/12/2025

What No One Tells You About Marriage

There's a lot about marriage that a lot of people don't know.

Watch this video to learn more

26/12/2025

Most relationship advice teaches us how to spot red flags in other people.

Rarely do we pause to ask a more uncomfortable question:

“What if I’m contributing to the problem?”

Not because you’re a bad partner.
Not because you’re toxic.
But because growth in relationships often starts with self-awareness — not blame.

Recognizing when you’re becoming the problem is one of the most mature things you can do for your relationship.

SIGNS YOU MAY BE BECOMING THE PROBLEM

1️⃣ You’re always defending, rarely reflecting: If every concern from your partner feels like an attack, growth becomes impossible.

2️⃣ You focus on being right instead of being understanding: Winning arguments can cost you emotional safety.

3️⃣ You dismiss your partner's feelings that don’t make sense to you: Emotions don’t need to be logical to be valid.

4️⃣ You avoid accountability by explaining your intentions: Good intentions don’t erase the hurt impact.

5️⃣ You get irritated by your partner’s needs: When care feels like inconvenience, disconnection is already happening.

6️⃣ You believe self-work is for “them,” not you: Relationships fail when only one person is willing to grow.

HERE'S WHY THIS HAPPENS

Becoming the problem doesn’t happen overnight. It usually comes from stress, exhaustion, unresolved hurt, fear, or pride.

People don’t change because they stop loving, they change because they stop examining themselves.

WHAT TO DO WHEN YOU NOTICE IT

• Pause before reacting
• Listen without planning a rebuttal
• Ask how your behavior affects your partner
• Apologize without explaining
• Choose connection over control

Self-awareness is not self-blame.
It’s self-responsibility.

The moment you can say, “I might be part of the issue,” you open the door to healing, growth, and deeper intimacy.

Strong relationships are not built by people who never make mistakes — they’re built by people who are willing to notice the mistakes they make and change.

Sometimes the biggest breakthrough in your relationship starts with looking in the mirror, and staying there long enough to grow.

The best time to learn how to recognise when you're the problem is BEFORE you get married.

That's why we created The Get Yourself Ready For Marriage 12 Weeks Group Coaching Program.

Our Comprehensive Relationship Readiness Assessment will show you the areas that you need to begin to work on.

The next Stream of the Get Yourself Ready For Marriage 12-week Group Coaching Program will start on Monday January 12, 2026. See comments for link to register.

©️ Modupe Ehirim

10/12/2025

True Love is not by feelings

There is more to marriage than just feelings.

You need to marry someone who will choose you everyday no matter what

Address

Lagos

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Tuesday	09:00 - 17:00
Thursday	09:00 - 17:00

Telephone

+2348176582658

Website

http://www.rightfitmarriage.com/

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