Second Time Around
On choosing partnership after two decades of independence, personal growth, and learning what it really takes to build lasting love
I've been divorced since 2004.
Twenty-one years is a long time to be on your own journey.
Long enough to raise two extraordinary sons. Long enough to build a life rich and full and wholly mine. Long enough to learn who I actually am as a woman.
When my marriage ended, there was no villain. Just two people who weren't the right fit. The pain and sadness was real, but so was the growth that followed.
In those years, I did the work. The uncomfortable, necessary work of looking inward and being honest about how I showed up in relationships. I learned what I actually need and want—which took longer than I expected. I explored my own sexuality and sensuality without shame or apology. I devoted myself to being happy, healthy, and whole on my own, because I understood something fundamental: you cannot build a flourishing relationship from an empty well.
As for romance? There were many different, and beautiful, relationships along the way.
Some committed, some not. Some good choices, others less so. Every single one taught me something important to my unfolding. Some I deeply loved and became not only close friends, but were instrumental in shaping who I am. I learned so much about myself through these amazing experiences.
When I moved to Colorado in 2021, it was for the mountains, and to feed my spirit. I had spent years building a life I love and was ready to explore a new environment. My life was full of incredible relationships and friendships, professional fulfillment, and experiences that made my life fun and joyful.
It was then I made a quiet decision: I would be open to love and partnership, but only if it added to my life. I knew in my heart that with or without a partner, my life was and would always be amazing.
And that's when it happened.
I said yes to a date with a guy named Andy on Bumble.
On December 6th, we got married.
What Changes (and What Doesn't)
All at once it feels like both nothing has changed and everything has changed.
Choosing to be married after 21 years of independence is profound. We've both lived (just a little, lol). We're bringing together four children, four parents between 85 and 93, a lifetime of friends, work commitments, and deeply ingrained ways of being. This isn't the wide-eyed leap of two 25-year-olds. This is a conscious, eyes-wide-open choice.
We have both learned so much along the way; about ourselves, relationship and the world.
Here's what I know matters most in this forever partnership:
Choose them. Every single day, in every single moment. Love isn't just a feeling—it's a choice, a deliberate act of will. Choose your partner when it's easy and when it's not. In mundane Tuesday evenings and the special moments of life.
Kindness is everything. Especially when it's hard. In moments of stress or disagreement, pause, breathe, and remember they are your partner, not your adversary.
Radical honesty. They should never have to guess where they stand. Tell them what you feel, what you want, what you need. Be courageously vulnerable, even when it's uncomfortable.
Tend the garden. Partnership and marriage isn't something that just happens to us—it's something created together, day by day. It should never be on autopilot. It should always have your attention, energy, and heart.
Keep growing. Never say "I am what I am." Do the hard work on your own growth, look at your patterns and triggers, and choose who you want to be—for you, for them, for you together.
Stretch each other. Don’t settle into a version of yourselves that feels small or stagnant. Challenge each other—gently, lovingly—to keep reaching for your biggest dreams. Your relationship/marriage should be an adventure, not a routine.
Take care of yourselves. Prioritize your own wellbeing, not at the expense of the relationship, but in service of it. The healthier and happier you are as an individual, the more you will have to bring to the relationship.
Hold grace for the mess. You will make mistakes and disappoint each other. In those moments, extend grace. Forgive quickly, assume the best intent, and choose compassion over criticism. Your love won't be measured by how perfect you are, but by how you show up for each other when you’re not.
The Beauty of Beginning Again
Twenty-one years ago, I couldn't have written these promises. I didn't know myself well enough. I hadn't done the work. I hadn't learned that a thriving partnership requires two whole people who choose each other, again and again.
This time, I'm bringing everything I've learned. All the wisdom earned through pain and joy and countless quiet moments of self-reflection. I'm bringing a woman who knows what she wants and doesn't apologize for it. A woman who understands that the quest for deep, lasting love starts with loving yourself first.
It's messy and beautiful and hard and amazing. We're blending families and histories and futures. We're writing a new story with characters who've already lived full chapters.
And I've never been more ready for anything in my life.
Here's to marriage, the second time around. To choosing love with clear eyes and open hearts. To building something that honors who we've both become.
To Andy, who showed up exactly when I was finally, fully ready.
