Hello, friends. Welcome to day 15 of the 7-40 Challenge. I’m David, your host on this wild ride of self-improvement, reflection, and transformation. Here we are, deep into round two, and I’m still buzzing with that fire to push forward—one daily task, one honest challenge at a time. It’s pulling something real out of me, day by day, and I’m grateful you’re along for it.

Tonight, I want to get personal. For years, I’ve called myself a writer… and then, well, I just stopped writing. There were flashes—bursts of words on a page, ideas scribbled in the margins of life—followed by long stretches of silence. I’d pick up the pen (or keyboard, let’s be real), only to set it down again. Metaphorically speaking, of course. It’s not a lack of ideas that’s held me back; it’s the deeper hook I haven’t quite latched onto yet. What’s the mission behind these words? Am I just chronicling my own quiet reflections, day to day? That’s fine—consistency alone would be a win. Or am I reaching out, lighting a spark for others to be more, do more? That’s noble too. But the pull I feel strongest is toward the big questions—the ones that keep so many of us up at night, searching for answers in a world that feels louder and lonelier than ever.

Take marriage, for instance. It seems like such a dirty word these days, doesn’t it? Fewer folks are diving into the dating pool, postponing rings and vows indefinitely, or skipping the whole thing altogether. I get it—life’s expensive, independence is intoxicating, and the stats on divorce don’t exactly scream “happily ever after.” But as someone who’s been all in for 26 years (27 this coming January), I have to wonder: Why? Why does something that lifted me higher than I ever imagined feel so out of reach for so many?

I can’t solve the world’s riddles in one blog post, but I can share my story. Because if my words can blend a bit of hard-won reason with the raw testimony of my own joys and stumbles, maybe it’ll cut through the noise. So tonight, let’s talk marriage—not as some dusty ideal from a bygone era, but as the living, breathing bedrock of my life. I’ll leave you with three reasons why it’s been the most uplifting adventure I’ve ever stepped into. And yeah, I’ll weave in a couple of voices from history to remind us this isn’t a new song—it’s one that’s echoed through time.

1. She’s My Best Friend—And That’s the Vow That Stuck

We met on April 1st, 1998—April Fool’s Day, of all days—and tied the knot just nine months later. Whirlwind? Sure. But from the jump, I knew: this woman wasn’t just a partner; she was my friend. My best friend. We’ve walked hand-in-hand through every twist—joys that make you laugh till your sides ache, valleys that test your soul—and those vows we whispered? We’ve kept them, fiercely.

It’s the kind of companionship that turns ordinary days into something sacred. As the great American poet Ralph Waldo Emerson put it in his essay Friendship: “The only way to have a friend is to be one.” My wife isn’t just along for the ride; she’s the one who sees me clearest, flaws and all, and chooses me anyway. In a world quick to ghost and swipe left, isn’t that the real magic? A friendship forged in fire, lasting because we both show up, every day.

2. Marry Young? Absolutely—If You’re Ready to Build Together

I’ve heard the advice lately: Wait. Stack your career first. Chase those solo adventures, fill your passport with stamps, pad your savings before you even think about merging lives. And hey, if that’s your path, own it—no judgment here. But for me? Marrying young was the smartest leap I ever took. We said “I do” broke as a joke, Taco Bell dinners and all, and built our lives from scratch—together.

It wasn’t a hurdle; it was the launchpad. Everything I’ve chased—a career that lights me up, dreams I’ve dared to dream—it’s all bloomed from that shared foundation. No regrets, no “what ifs” about missed opportunities. Just fewer heartaches, less uncertainty, because we poured the work into us from the start. We grew our love and our life in tandem, turning scarcity into abundance.

This isn’t some modern hack, either. Flash back to 1890, when British essayist and poet Coventry Patmore reflected on love’s enduring power in The Angel in the House: “The wife is the heart of the home, beating time to the music of the world’s great heart.” Patmore was writing in a Victorian world worlds away from ours, yet he nailed it—marriage as rhythm, as partnership, as the beat that propels you forward. We didn’t wait for perfection; we built it, side by side. And friends, if you’re hesitating at the edge, hear this: It’s okay to start small. You can grow big together.

3. A Voice That’s Honest, Loving, and Always in Your Corner

Single life has its freedoms, no doubt—the fierce independence that shapes you, the space to chase your own north star. But marriage? To the right person? It unlocks something deeper: interdependence. A real, flesh-and-blood voice in your life who loves you enough to call you out, cheer you on, and hold the mirror when you need it most.

My wife doesn’t sugarcoat. If I’m veering off course, she’ll say it straight—no lies, no fluff. We talk it through, work it through, and emerge stronger. It’s not always easy; growth rarely is. But that honest feedback? It’s gold. It turns “me” into “us,” and suddenly, you’re more than you were—sharper, kinder, braver.

Of course, this isn’t a one-size-fits-all approach. If marriage doesn’t fit your blueprint right now—or ever—skip ahead, and let’s agree to disagree with grace. But if you’re reading this and feeling that quiet tug, that whisper of “maybe,” let me say it loud: It’s okay. Go ahead and marry the one who sees your soul. Build from that small, sacred place, and watch it expand. Having someone truly for you—honest and unwavering—early on? It’s the foundation that carries you through a lifetime.

I love being married to my wife. I love her. And if these words inspire even one person to chase that kind of love—to see it’s still out there, worth every drop of blood, sweat, and tears—then this post has done its quiet work.

We’ll see you tomorrow for day 16. Keep showing up, friends. You’ve got this—and so do they.