There are a lot of ways to describe love, but for me, it boils down to one simple truth: I am still completely obsessed with my husband, Brian. And not in the creepy, “single white female” way—more like the “this man is my ride-or-die and I’d still swipe right on him today” kind of way.

We’ve been married for nearly 20 years, which means we’ve survived the honeymoon phase (aka “let’s never stop holding hands”), the “we have small children and no sleep” phase (aka “I love you but please don’t breathe near me right now”), the “our teenagers are trying to kill us via emotional whiplash” phase (which we’re currently still trapped in), and the “life is just A LOT” phase (which I suspect never truly ends). And through it all, Brian has been my steady, my safe place, and my favorite human.

When I first met him, it was his humor that pulled me in. He was (and still is) the kind of funny that makes you laugh so hard you can’t breathe, the kind of funny that sneaks up on you, and before you know it, you’re completely charmed. You can’t help it – that’s just who he is.  But I have to admit, the George Clooney vibes he was rocking when I met him caught my eye too.  That combination—his quick jokes and wit and just the right amount of rugged handsomeness—sealed the deal before I even realized what was happening. An example of his humor:  on our first date, he did a Sling Blade impression that still makes me laugh to this day.  I will also never look at a biscuit without thinking about it.  IYKYK.  

This man has held my hand through some of the hardest moments of my life—most notably, cancer 1.0 (because let’s be real, cancer doesn’t deserve to be called anything other than a complete pain in the ass). He never wavered, never let me spiral too far, and always knew exactly how to pull me back from the edge with a perfectly timed joke or a ridiculous dad dance in the kitchen. He made sure our kids still had a sense of normalcy when things were anything but normal, and that, somehow, we still found laughter even on the darkest days. We are still finding laughter, even now, even with an impending surgery and being in the thick of dealing with the consequences of cancer treatment.  

Brian has also been a part of the best days of my life—our wedding (where he somehow managed to look even more handsome than I did), the birth of our daughters (where he avoided fainting, a true miracle), and purchasing our home (where he graciously tolerated my obsession with picking the perfect shade of paint for months). Every milestone, every celebration, he’s been there, making those moments even more special. Having him by my side through those highs balances out the lows—because let’s be real, life has thrown us some absolute garbage—but knowing I have him to celebrate with makes it all feel a little more worth it. Even when I’m a hot mess, even when life feels impossible, he’s there, cracking jokes, holding my hand, and making sure I don’t completely lose my mind. His presence makes the good times even sweeter and the challenges more bearable, proving time and time again that love isn’t just about the big moments—it’s about showing up, day after day, no matter what – even when it’s hard to be fully present.

Speaking of laughter—Brian is funny. Like, unfairly, ridiculously funny. The kind of funny that makes me question whether he was secretly a stand-up comedian in another life, or if he’s just been saving up one-liners specifically to keep me entertained for decades. The kind of funny that makes you snort-laugh in public and then pretend like it didn’t happen. The kind of funny that turns a mundane Tuesday into an inside-joke-fueled adventure. The kind of funny that reminds me, even when things feel heavy, that there is still so much joy in the everyday.

And on top of all that, he’s an incredible dad. The kind of dad who makes the best-worst dad jokes with absolutely no shame, who can switch from goofy to wise in the blink of an eye, and who somehow manages to both embarrass and impress our teenagers on a daily basis. Our daughters may not always appreciate his dad jokes (or his ability to embarrass them with a dance move), but they know that they are loved beyond measure. He shows up for them in all the ways that matter—whether that’s giving advice, listening, or just being the dad who will drive them anywhere, anytime, no questions asked (okay, maybe a few questions, and maybe some complaining).

So on this Valentine’s Day, I just want to take a moment to say: Brian, you are my person. You’re the calm in my chaos, the humor in my drama, and the peanut butter to my slightly unhinged jelly. You keep me laughing, keep me grounded, and somehow, even after all these years, keep me swooning. You always have been. You always will be. And even after 20 years, I still find myself looking at you and thinking, “Damn, I really lucked out.”

I love you. And I’m still obsessed with you.

Happy Valentine’s Day. 💙