Written 7/9/2026

I’d like you to meet Leanna.

We met on a dance floor.

Long before I ever asked her out, I noticed something about her. She sparkled. It was as though she walked into a room with a spotlight on her while everyone else quietly faded into the background.

At least, that’s how it felt to me.

For several weeks, I admired her from across the dance floor but never made a move. She wore a ring on her left hand, and being a guy, I simply assumed she was married.

One evening, in the middle of a dance, I finally worked up the courage to ask, “Does your husband enjoy dancing as much as you do?”

Without missing a beat, she smiled and said, “I don’t have one of those.”

Still spinning, I immediately replied, “Would you like to have coffee with me?”

Thankfully, she said yes.

Coffee turned into dinner.

Our “one-hour” first date lasted four hours.

Our second date lasted ten.

Somewhere during those conversations, I realized I wasn’t simply enjoying someone’s company. I had met someone genuinely extraordinary.

For once, I didn’t try to control the outcome. I didn’t overthink every conversation. I didn’t create rules about where the relationship should be after a certain amount of time. I simply let it unfold.

Ironically, that’s what made everything feel so natural.

Today, I couldn’t be happier.

A few weeks ago, we entered America’s Favorite Couple simply because it sounded like a fun adventure to experience together. We’ve bounced between 5th and 9th place, and it’s been a lot of fun watching the competition unfold.

If you’d like to support us, we’d be honored if you voted for us. You can vote once each day, and every vote means a great deal to us.

Thank you for cheering us on.

https://americasfavcouple.org/2026/robert-and-leanna

The greatest glory in living lies not in never failing, but in rising every time we fall.

--Nelson Mandela

Think about that for a moment.

Most people believe success belongs to those who never fail.

But that’s not how life works.

You’re going to get knocked down.

A deal will fall apart.

A relationship will end.

Someone will disappoint you.

You’ll make a mistake.

You’ll have a day where nothing seems to go right.

The question isn’t whether you’ll fall.

The question is what you’ll do next.

Will you stay there?

Or will you get back up?

Because every person you admire has been knocked down more times than you can imagine.

The difference is they kept getting up.

Today you’ll probably face a few small setbacks.

Maybe even a big one.

When that happens, remember this:

Your strength isn’t measured by how hard life hits you.

It’s measured by how many times you’re willing to rise.

Get back up.

Take the next step.

And keep moving forward.

Make it an amazing day.

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Robert’s Substack is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

I’m back! With a beard!

“Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning.”— Gloria Steinem

Think about that for a moment.

Every accomplishment begins as a picture in someone’s mind.

A better career.A healthier body.A stronger marriage.A business that creates freedom instead of stress.A life that feels more aligned with who you are.

First, we dream it.

The problem is that many people stop there.

Dreaming feels good. It gives us a temporary glimpse of a future we’d love to have. But a dream only becomes a plan when we take the next step.

Not the whole journey.

Just the next step.

If there is something you truly want—something that won’t leave your heart alone—what could you do today to move one inch closer to it?

Make the phone call.

Send the email.

Take the walk.

Write the first page.

Have the difficult conversation.

Small actions have a way of turning distant dreams into inevitable realities.

So here’s your challenge:

What’s one thing you can do today to get a little closer to the life you’re imagining?

Dream about it.

Then take a step.

Make it an amazing day.

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Written 6/21/2026

I have found my forever person.

That sentence still feels strange to write.

Not because I doubt it.

Because for a long time, I wasn’t sure someone like her existed.

Over the years, I’ve had countless conversations with friends going through divorce, recovering from divorce, or trying to date after divorce.

Many of them describe their ideal partner.

The list is usually impressive.

He should be successful.

Emotionally available.

Financially secure.

Handy around the house.

A great communicator.

A great listener.

A great planner.

A great father.

Romantic.

Adventurous.

Spontaneous.

Dependable.

Passionate.

Patient.

And somehow available every Tuesday at 7:00 PM.

The longer the list gets, the more I find myself thinking:

“Good luck with that.”

Life has taught me something different.

I don’t want perfect.

I want tested.

I want someone who has been disappointed.

Someone who has trusted the wrong person.

Someone who has had their heart broken.

Someone who has sat alone in their living room wondering how life ended up looking so different from the way they imagined.

Not because I want them to suffer.

But because suffering teaches things success never can.

It teaches perspective.

After enough disappointments, people stop looking for perfection.

They start looking for consistency.

They don’t need grand gestures.

They appreciate simple ones.

Show up when you said you would.

Return the phone call.

Be honest.

Keep your word.

Treat people kindly.

Act like you actually care.

It’s amazing how extraordinary those things become in a world where so many people don’t do them.

The people who have been through hell and keep going are different.

They’re often kinder.

More patient.

More grateful.

More understanding.

They know what loss feels like.

They know what loneliness feels like.

They know what it’s like to rebuild.

And because of that, they don’t take genuine connection for granted.

That’s what I found.

The things my love has gone through make me shake my head sometimes.

The disappointments.

The heartbreaks.

The moments when people failed her.

Part of me wishes she had never experienced any of it.

But another part of me knows that every step of that journey helped create the woman I fell in love with.

A woman who is beautiful.

A woman who is sexy.

A woman who is caring.

A woman whose value is far greater than she often realizes herself.

As she continues to come out of her shell, I find myself doing the same thing.

Because the truth is, I’ve been through my own battles.

My own heartbreak.

My own disappointments.

My own moments of wondering whether I’d ever find the right person.

What makes our relationship special isn’t that one of us healed the other.

It’s that we understand each other’s scars.

We know where the land mines are.

We know which wounds still ache on certain days.

And instead of judging them, we protect them.

We become a place of refuge for one another.

A place of peace.

That’s a rare gift.

So if you’re ever looking for someone, don’t overlook the people who have been knocked down by life but keep getting back up.

Those are the people who know how to love.

Not because life was easy.

But because it wasn’t.

And they chose to keep their hearts open anyway.

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Written 6/10/2026

As many of you know, I’ve found my forever partner.

We spend almost every day together. Sometimes it’s a full day of adventures. Sometimes it’s dinner after work. Sometimes it’s simply falling asleep in each other’s arms.

That’s the easy part.

The challenging part is that we’re not twenty anymore.

If we had met in our twenties, we probably would have moved in together months ago. Back then, one or both of us would have been living in an apartment. One person gives up their lease, moves in, and life goes on.

But life isn’t that simple when you’re older.

We both have homes. We both have pets. We both have adult children. We both have lives that existed long before we met each other.

The first hurdle is family.

Last weekend I took her daughters out for brunch so we could spend some time getting to know each other. We had met briefly around Christmas, but we really hadn’t had a chance to talk. I gave them a choice of restaurants, and they picked White Sheep in Naperville—a higher-end breakfast spot known for making its own doughnuts.

We spent about an hour and a half together talking, laughing, and sharing stories. I think it went well.

My daughter has been wonderful about my relationship. She’s had conversations with my girlfriend, they’ve spent time together, and she’s completely comfortable with her being part of my life.

My son, who lives out of state, is taking a different approach. He’s avoiding the conversation altogether.

I get it.

Change takes time.

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My girlfriend and I have already talked about spending a few days with him and his wife so everyone has an opportunity to get to know one another. From there, we’d likely head south to visit her oldest daughter near Washington, D.C. Her other daughter lives in Kansas.

My hope is that over the coming years our families come to know, respect, and genuinely enjoy one another’s company.

And if that doesn’t happen overnight?

We’ll keep working on it.

I know some people disagree, but I believe that after spending twenty-plus years raising children, we earn the opportunity to prioritize our own happiness. That doesn’t mean abandoning our responsibilities. It simply means recognizing that our lives matter too.

Do you think that’s crazy?

Then there’s the question everyone eventually asks:

“So when are you moving in together?”

The honest answer is that I don’t know.

I’m still working through some financial issues that need to be resolved before making any major decisions. Once those are behind me, the conversation becomes much more practical.

She would prefer to stay in her house. It makes sense. It’s larger, has a basement, and holds decades of memories. Her children still have their bedrooms exactly as they left them after high school. There’s something beautiful about that.

My gut tells me the path forward will become clear within the next six to twelve months.

Maybe we stay where we are.

Maybe we move into her home.

Maybe she gets an opportunity in another city and we start a new chapter somewhere entirely different.

I honestly don’t know.

What I do know is that we’ve already introduced the pets, and they tolerate each other reasonably well. We’ve met each other’s friends. We’ve begun weaving our separate worlds together one thread at a time.

So far, so good.

This is new territory for both of us.

There are moments when it’s exciting. Moments when it’s a little nerve-racking. Moments when neither of us knows exactly what the next step should be.

But I’ve become pretty good at envisioning our life three years from now.

I see us living together. I see us building a home. I see us sharing the ordinary moments that ultimately become the most meaningful parts of life.

We’re not in a rush.

We’re building something intended to last.

And sometimes the things worth having take a little longer to create.

If you’ve successfully blended families, navigated a later-in-life relationship, or found your own way through these questions, I’d love to hear your advice.

Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments.

We’re figuring this out as we go, and I’ll gladly accept all the wisdom I can get.

Written June 7, 2026.

Being invited to a graduation party is always nice and when my GF told me about it, I didn’t think much of it until she told me who it was for.

This was her ex-husband’s family’s graduation party. He wasn’t invited and she was.

Think about what that.

It was his side of the family gathering at Jesse Oaks in Grayslake Illinois. A local institution that’s been around for 30 years complete with sand volleyball courts, beer garden, and food that’s good enough to keep people coming back year after year.

What struck me wasn’t the venue, it was that even when a relationship ends, families don’t.

Over the years, she had remained friends with many of them. They still considered her family. Not because they had to, but because they chose to.

That’s a rare thing nowadays.

The second reason why this party was going to be different was that they all knew about GF’s new “man in her life.”

They had seen the Facebook photos, heard stories, exchanged messages with her. Now they were finally going to meet me.

If you’ve ever been in a serious relationship, you know the moment I’m talking about. Not just meeting people, but being evaluated.

Not evaluated in a hostile way, more like a committee meeting that nobody tells you is happening.

* Is he good to her?

* Does he make her laugh?

* Does she seem happy?

* Can we trust him?

We walked in together.

Heads turned.

Eyes moved from her to me and back again.

The sparkle in their expressions told me everything I needed to know.

So this is Robert.

My girlfriend moved through the crowd, hugging people she had known for years.

“This is Robert.”

Handshakes.

Hugs.

Smiles.

A few knowing looks.

Years ago, I would have been incredibly uncomfortable; worried about making a good impression.

Age has a funny way of changing that. These days my thought process is much simpler:

Let’s grab a drink and enjoy the party.

The drinks were free, the pizza was good, the home made pies were outstanding.

The conversations flowed easily.

At some point I found myself teasing John.

Before the party, he had tried to call my girlfriend to warn her about construction on I-355. A thoughtful gesture. Unfortunately, she never got the message, and we took a different route anyway.

For the rest of the afternoon, whenever someone mentioned contacting John, I couldn’t resist.

“Well, so-and-so tried to call you, but apparently you didn’t get the message.”

The joke never got old.

At least not for me.

More importantly, it helped me stop being the new boyfriend and become just another person at the party.

And maybe that’s what I took away from the day.

When we’re younger, relationships often feel like auditions. You’re trying to prove yourself and trying to fit in.

Trying to earn approval.

But eventually, if you’re fortunate, you realize something different. That you don’t have to perform. You simply show up as yourself. You laugh. You tell stories. You make terrible jokes and you eat too much pie.

And somewhere along the way, a room full of strangers stops feeling like strangers.

I realized nobody was really inspecting me after all. They were just hoping the person they care about had found someone who would care about her, too.

That’s a much easier test to pass.

.

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Written 4/30/2026

I’m a little over a week into my eight week recovery from bunion surgery and a hammer toe repair (complete with a pin sticking out of the tip of my second toe). I have been avoiding it for 5 years, but when my bones started grinding every time I walked, it was time to bite the bullet.

The doctor says it could take 3 to 5 months, but I’m giving it 2 months. At the 2 month mark I hope to be dancing West Coast Swing (very smooth dance) and riding my motorcycle. I also am excited about getting back to running which I imagine may take closer to 3 months to accomplish.

The foot is bound and I can only put weight on my heel. They will rebandage the foot at the 2 week mark and that will be the first time I truly see what they did.

I’ve always been “the man in the arena” fully participating in life. This surgery has taken me out of this for a short period of time. Furthermore, I had to rely on someone else (GF) to help me through this initial phase. I couldn’t have done the first day myself without risk. I’m very thankful I had such a wonderful, loving person looking after me.

I don’t like to rely totally on another. It’s not my modus operandi. I’m a guy, guy’s are supposed to be self reliant. Our worth is measured by what we provide, not who we are (which really sucks, but I don’t make the rules).

It’s taught me to allow people to help me and that it’s okay to rely on other people. A shout out to my ex who is keeping my dog an extra week while I heal through this (we share her every other week).

I had a really humbling experience shopping at Walmart yesterday. I needed groceries and thought I’d try walking around. I got 50 steps into the store and realized it wasn’t going to happen, so had to grab a motorized cart. I felt embarrassed by my need for the cart.

I swallowed my pride and rode around. There was no way around it and after a little while I forgot about how I looked and just shopped with my GF putting things into the cart.

As we age, we end up needing more and more help. This is okay as it gives others the opportunity to feel good by serving you. If taken the right way, it keeps you humble and kind.

That said, please pray for my swift recovery.

Thanks,

Robert

Written 4/3/2026.

Let’s get something straight.

Ethics training for insurance agents didn’t happen because the industry suddenly cared more about doing the right thing.

It happened because the system kept producing the wrong results.

What actually went wrong

For years, regulators saw the same patterns:

* Agents overstating what policies covered

* Replacing policies just to generate new commissions

* Products so complex that the average person couldn’t realistically understand them

So the response became… ethics training.

But that assumes the problem was a lack of understanding.

It wasn’t.

The real problem

The system pays for behavior.

And people follow the money.

If you pay someone more to sell something new than to maintain what’s already in place, what do you expect to happen?

The system wasn’t broken.

It was working exactly as designed.

Then we made it worse

Insurance products didn’t get simpler—they got more complicated.

Variable life.Annuities with caps, triggers, and riders.

At some point, this stopped being about “explaining things better.”

The complexity itself created space for manipulation.

Why ethics training exists

After lawsuits, media attention, and regulatory pressure, something had to be done.

So ethics training became mandatory.

Not to make agents ethical.

To create accountability.

It does three things:

* Defines a minimum standard of behavior

* Gives regulators something to enforce

* Protects carriers and states legally

If something goes wrong, the answer is simple:

“You were trained. You knew better.”

What it actually accomplishes

Let’s be honest.

Ethics training does not eliminate bad behavior.

It filters out the most obvious violations.

That’s it.

Because the underlying system hasn’t changed:

* Commissions still drive decisions

* Products are more complex than ever

* Consumers are still at a disadvantage

So what would actually fix it?

You have to change the incentives.

Not the training.

If doing the right thing is harder, slower, or less profitable… most people won’t do it consistently.

A real-world example

When I help someone with individual health insurance outside of open enrollment, I might get paid $20 per month.

Many of these policies only last a few months.

That means I might earn $60 total.

For one to two hours of work.

That doesn’t work economically.

And when the math doesn’t work, behavior changes.

The Medicare problem (and unintended consequences)

Agents generally can’t charge fees for Medicare advice.

Sounds consumer-friendly.

Until you look closer.

If someone needs help choosing a Part D drug plan, the compensation is often minimal—sometimes nothing.

So what happens?

Most agents don’t offer that service.

Not because they don’t care.

Because they can’t afford to.

And now seniors are left making complex decisions on their own—often choosing the wrong plan.

In trying to protect consumers from fees, the system actually reduced access to good advice.

What needs to change

If agents could charge transparent fees:

The question shifts from👉 “What pays me?”

to👉 “What’s best for this person?”

That’s a meaningful change.

But here’s the catch

Consumers have to value expertise.

You can’t demand unbiased advice while insisting it should be free.

Because it’s not free.

You’re just paying for it in ways you don’t see—and often in ways that don’t align with your best interest.

Bottom line

Ethics training isn’t the solution.

It’s a patch.

Until incentives change, the outcomes won’t.

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Written 2/21/2026

Day two dawned with less on our plate.

He had the obligatory stop at Waffle House for breakfast. Why? Because who doesn’t want to hang out with a bunch of questionable people and have the waitress call us “darlin.” We struck up a conversation with a truck driver about Rock City. We planned on stopping there before ending up in Chattanooga. He gave us tips and advice and then we were off.

We started driving towards Rock City Tennessee when GF thought to herself whether she should check to see whether the main attraction was open.

It wasn’t.

So we rerouted directly to Chattanooga. We didn’t have a hotel booked and on our journey, we dropped by a rest area where GF’s family used to stop on their way to Florida. It was her dad’s favorite place, surrounded by a lake. During that discussion, she mentioned that her dad always talked about the choo choo hotel in Chattanooga. It was a place where if you book far enough in advance, you could stay in an actual train car for the night. As an aside, her dad wasn’t doing well health-wise. He was 80 and a lifelong smoker who had contracted pneumonia along with a couple other conditions.

He had never stayed at the hotel, so we decided to book a room there. We weren’t able to get a train car, but the hotel is classically beautiful inside and the room gave off the feel of an old time train car.

As we were celebrating our anniversary, they gave us a bottle of wine.

We settled in and relaxed before going out. There was a place that had line dancing which we were going to check out after dinner.

Dinner was at Elsie’s Daughter, the restaurant on the campus. It was a lovely place that had heaters to keep it warm (as it was still colder here than in Chicago).

I sat down and promptly broke the bench. In all fairness, it was just a metal bench that one sets out in the garden and the nut holding the bolt that secured the back was missing. We laughed and I replaced the bench with a chair so we could sit next to one another.

Dinner was delicious. We ordered and shared everything. She had an espresso martini while I had a diet soda (yes, I’m such an exciting guy).

From there we got ready to dance at Westbound Honky Tonk bar. They had line dancing lessons from 6 pm to 8 pm and we danced then and until the college crowd came and took over the bar. The instructors were really nice and helpful and the drinks were relatively cheap.

We wandered down the strip and stopped in at STIR. A more metropolitan feel where we sat at the bar and had a drink. The bartenders and other people were really nice to chat with.

After a nice stroll, we went back to our hotel and crashed for the night.

In the morning, we ate at the Frothy Monkey. With a name like that, how could you NOT eat there. It was in the old train station with a soaring ceiling and exposed architecture. Very pretty. They had a multicolored flag to welcome people of all orientations.

The food was delicious and servers were great.

Then it was off to Savannah.

Robert’s Substack is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Robert’s Substack is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Written 2/23/2026.

This is how I’d create the most awesome bookstore ever!

First, you have no advertisement, no street-side signs indicating there is a book store. Like a secret speakeasy, someone had to tell you where it is.

As you step up to the non-descript door, you have to give the secret knock. Only then can you step inside the foyer and find the next clue on how to open the door to the book store (maybe a statue where you have to pull the arm down or an idol which you have to remove and replace with another idol). This part changes monthly based upon the book of the month.

Once inside, it opens up to a maze of aisles filled with old and new books. There is a colored stripe on the floor that guides people to the checkout desk and separate door people exit from. Nobody who comes in the front door leaves from the front door.

There is a sign with clues as to where to go to find the genre of books you are looking for. The clues are based upon the genre. For kids books, the clues are easy and obvious so that young children can figure out and find their way as simple as color coding and having colors along the aisles to guide them to that section.

If a person is looking for mysteries, then they need to solve a simple mystery to figure out where that section is.

Romance, maybe write a love note on an iPad that will then give you directions.

Fantasy may be pointing a wand at a target.

You get the idea.

Next is as you get closer to the section, the books/corridor change to reflect the genre of books you are coming up to. You could stack books to resemble an arrow. Then when you arrive at the section, if it’s romance, you’ll have romance adornments (hearts, male mannequin with flowing hair and amazing chest embracing a beautiful woman). Think silk, could be leather ropes and handcuffs, make it fun and almost tasteful.

Fantasy may have armor, wands, cloaks, maybe a tree nymph. Little houses/scenes.

Mysteries may have guns/daggers, cloaks, fingerprints left over some cases that have been “shattered” and there is a crime scene.

Rotate images as often as you can, preferably monthly to keep people guessing.

Why does this work?

Readers love to see their interior worlds of their mind come to life in the real world. We get a dopamine hit when we feel we are special and find new things to discover.

A book store nobody can find except you.

A maze of books allowing you to wander and discover new reads.

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Readers don’t like being spoon fed, so give them little challenges along the way that they need to figure out to find what they are looking for.

If you want to double down, you have the exit lead into a cozy coffee shop lined with used books where people can grab a drink and pastry and sit down and either read the books they bought or pull one off the shelf and read it.

Note that the exit from the book store has to lead into the hallway of the coffee shop so that it’s not obvious where people are coming from (maybe the exit leads to the corridor where the restrooms are located). This exit is one way, nobody can get into the book store from that direction. They may only leave.

I’d probably own both the book store and coffee shop as they go well together. If you skip the stealth getting into and out of the shop, you can have a regular shop/coffee shop all in one space.

Let me know how you’d design your perfect book store.