Marriage is basically just a decades-long negotiation over one degree on the thermostat. There are two types of people: 1. The "I want to live in a tropical rainforest" people. 2. The "I want to preserve myself in a cryogenic freezer" people. Who controls the dial in your house? And what is the correct temperature? (Wrong answers only).

You pay bills together. You coordinate kid drop-offs. You watch Netflix. But you no longer know each other. This is the Roommate Phase. It is functional, but it is dangerous. We went through this phase in our early marriage, which facilitated our almost divorce over 20 years ago. Our parenting went into a sort of "divide and conquer" mindset. It was a slow progression, and we didn't even see it until it was too late and extreme disconnect and unhealthy habits were in place. Disrupt the routine today. Ask a question that has nothing to do with logistics. "What can I do this week to help you feel supported?"

You assume you know why they did it. You think they left the socks on the floor to disrespect you. You think they were quiet because they are angry. This is mind-reading. It is dangerous. Rule: You must ask. You cannot assume. Say this instead. "I noticed you are quiet. I am telling myself you are mad at me. Is that true?" Clarify before you fight.

Ever notice how some people explode during conflict while others completely shut down and go silent? That isn't just a personality quirk. It’s a survival strategy. Likely, when you were a child, silence was your safety. If you didn't speak, you couldn't get in trouble. You learned to make yourself small to survive the chaos. The Problem: In marriage, silence isn't safety. It’s a wall. It leaves your spouse feeling abandoned and alone. Challenge: Push against the instinct to hide today. Even if it’s just one sentence: "I am feeling overwhelmed right now, but I am not leaving you."

Today, my parents would have been married 64 years had they lived long enough. Early on, I saw my dad buy my mom her favorite flower, roses, for each anniversary. He would also get a card and write her the sweetest words. Every year. When he passed away in 2006, I continued to buy my mom roses on their anniversary, along with a card, thanking her for modeling a well-lived marriage. When my mom passed away in 2022, Sean began getting roses on this day to commemorate. I am thankful for a legacy of love.