In a few weeks, I’m hosting a bridal shower for the daughter of one of my closest friends. It’s one of those surreal midlife moments. How is it even possible that the little girls who used to babysit my children are now planning weddings and preparing to build families of their own at the very same time that I am single and opening my own heart to the possibility of love again?
In the words of the great 90s icon Alanis Morissette, “Isn’t it ironic?”
But back to the shower. As I looked at the guest list, I found myself thinking less about flowers and party favors and more about the women who will be gathered in that room. There will be grandmothers who have been married to the same person for more than fifty years. Mothers still in the thick of family life. Women whose marriages have endured unimaginable hardships. Women who have been widowed. Divorced women. Young women only beginning to imagine the lives they’ll create for themselves. For a few precious hours, there will be generations of lived experience all sitting together in the same room.
And it dawned on me that rather than the serving bowls and place settings, their presence is the real gift.

It seems like such a waste not to try and capture those unspoken life lessons and somehow pass them on to the bride-to-be. So, I decided to invite each of the women to share a few words of wisdom about marriage, family, and building a life with another person. Something they learned. Something they wish someone had told them when they were just starting out. Once I’ve collected them all, I will compile them into a small book to give to my friend’s daughter as a keepsake and reminder that she is beginning this journey surrounded and supported by a village of women who have walked their own versions of it before her.
Of course, the moment I hit send, the panic set in. What wisdom did I have to offer a young woman standing at the beginning of a journey that I’d only ever traveled imperfectly?
My own marriage lasted twenty-three years and taught me more about love than I ever could have imagined. Some lessons were joyful, some painful, and many I only understood with the benefit of hindsight. When I was a young bride-to-be, people offered up platitudes like, “Never go to bed angry” or “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” None of which were particularly helpful, or in my experience, even true. Back in the ancient days of the late 1990s, nobody ever sat me down and walked me through the nitty-gritty details about how to sustain a relationship over time or what pitfalls to try to avoid.
So, looking back with the benefit of time, healing, and a whole lot of therapy, I realize I do have a few things to say on the matter. First and foremost is this: relationships are either made or quietly undone in a thousand ordinary moments. With that in mind, these are the words of wisdom I am choosing to pass on:
Touch your person often and without expectation.
In any relationship, life inevitably steps in. The demands of work, family and day-to-day life in a complicated world can dampen the flames of any romantic relationship. You move past the delicious thrill of a passionate new love and settle into something more comfortable. And while that comfort isn’t necessarily a bad thing, I think it’s important to remember to tend to the fire because it’s that flame that binds you uniquely as partners and prevents you from falling into the trap of living like roommates or colleagues.
I want to be clear. I am not talking about sex here, though it is certainly important. But what I would argue is even more important is this: the power of touch without the expectation of more.
Not every kiss is an invitation and not every embrace is a prelude. The smallest gestures often carry the greatest weight if they come without strings attached. The kiss before leaving for work. The hand resting on someone’s back as you pass in the hallway. Wrapping your arms around your partner while they’re washing dishes. Or even just lingering in a hug for a few extra seconds before one of you walks out the door for the day.
Human beings are wired for connection, but life has a way of crowding out tenderness if we aren’t paying attention. So be extravagant with your affection. It’s one of the few things in life that multiplies the more freely we give it away.
Keep something that’s just yours.
We ask an awful lot of our partners these days, don’t we? The internet tells us that they should be our best friend, soulmate, therapist, travel companion, co-parent, business consultant, adventure buddy, and favorite dinner date. It’s no wonder we sometimes feel disappointed. How could anyone possibly live up to all of that all of the time?
I’ve come to believe that one of the healthiest things we can do for a relationship is to continue cultivating our own passions. Nurture the hobby that lights you up. Protect your friendships. Chase the interests that make you feel most like yourself. Because at the end of the day, the things that make us interesting to ourselves are often the very things that make us interesting to our partners.
It also takes the pressure off having to be everything to one another all the time. You don’t have to spend every minute of every day in sync to be deeply connected. In fact, I think a little healthy distance keeps curiosity alive.
But here’s the key - remember to stay interested in what lights your partner up, even if it isn’t what lights you up. Ask questions. Cheer them on. Delight in what delights them. Relationships need common ground, but they also need fresh soil. Every so often, you have to till the soil so something new has room to grow. Continually bringing new experiences, new ideas, and new versions of ourselves back to one another helps keep a long-term relationship from growing stale.
Don’t keep score.
Here’s the thing, even in the best relationships, there will be disappointments. There will be forgotten anniversaries, hurt feelings, bad moods, misunderstandings, and maybe even days when the person you love the most is the last person on earth you particularly like. That’s part of sharing a life with someone.
Those moments don’t have to define your relationship, especially if you are willing to address them. Talk about those things when they happen. Repair them. Apologize. Forgive. But don’t become the historian of every mistake your partner has ever made.
Nothing good comes from carrying around a mental ledger and using the next disagreement as an opportunity to run through a long list of grievances in an effort to defend your case. The healthiest relationships I know aren’t free from conflict. They’re free from scorekeeping.
Assume the best.
This may be the lesson I value most now that I’m older. When someone says something that lands poorly or forgets something that mattered to you, it’s incredibly easy to construct a story in your head about what it means. I know that my mind was always quick to use those moments as proof that someone didn’t care. That they weren’t listening. That they didn’t appreciate me.
But at fifty-three, I know now that more often than not, none of those stories are true.
If you begin with the assumption that the person you love is on your side and that they would never intentionally hurt you, it changes the conversation before it even begins. You become curious instead of defensive. You ask instead of making accusations. You leave room for misunderstanding instead of immediately assigning a motive.
Giving one another the benefit of the doubt is one of the kindest gifts we can offer the people we love.
And last but certainly not least…Show up.
Not just for the hard things, although those matter enormously. Show up for the ordinary ones. Show up for the promotion. The disappointing doctor’s appointment. The race. The flat tire. The exciting phone call. The difficult conversation at work. Learn your person well enough to know what they need before they have to ask.
Be the first one clapping when something wonderful happens and be the first one sitting beside them when it doesn’t.
In the end, I think that’s what love looks like more often than not. Not grandiose declarations or John Cusack-standing-outside-your-window-with-a-boombox gestures, but the quiet certainty of knowing that someone is in your corner. Someone who notices. Someone who stays.
Lord knows, none of us can promise a young couple the recipe for a perfect marriage. Life simply doesn’t work that way. As much as we might like to, we can’t spare them heartbreak or disappointment or the inevitable seasons that test every relationship. And maybe that’s just as well. Love, like courage, is rarely built in the easy moments.
But what if we can offer something just as valuable? What if we can offer the reassurance that love isn’t built in the extraordinary moments. It’s built during times of struggle and in the ordinary ones we almost forget.
And wouldn’t you know it. As I write this now, I realize that isn’t just a lesson for newlyweds. It’s a reminder that I need, too. Maybe we all do.
No matter how old we are - whether we’re nurturing a decades-long marriage, beginning a new relationship, strengthening a friendship, or learning to love ourselves a little better - the work is remarkably similar.
We all need more curiosity. More grace. More touch. More showing up.
Love, after all, isn’t something we find once. If we want it to last, it’s something we must choose over and over again. One ordinary day at a time.
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Great perspective Laurie. As you know, I became a first time bride at 63. I am living proof that wonderful things can happen even late in the game. Your words are a powerful reminder that the precious gift I have been given needs caretaking and nourishment. On our wedding day I vowed to protect our love with every ounce of my being. I try my best everyday. But, I am sure, I don’t actually do my best everyday. Thank you for your thoughtful insight my dear niece. I learn something every time I read one of your great posts.
This is beautiful, Laurie! Love, like any relationship, takes so much work and grace. My husband and I are about to celebrate our 15th anniversary at the end of the month and I'd love to say that we have it all figured out but we are still learning things about each other and making mistakes and making assumptions. But I think we're getting better at the grace part. And as someone who tends to approach life like its one giant rom-com, I'm married to someone who rarely makes grand gestures... but damn if he hasn't figured out how to make some of the small moments so special and romantic just by being thoughtful.