My wife and I couldn’t be more different from each other. She’s sweet, and I’m savory. She’s calm and easygoing, while I’m hyped up and intense. I talk a thousand miles an hour but am very much an introvert, whereas she chooses her words carefully and is a social butterfly.
I remember when I first met her. It was April 1999, and I had just agreed to go on a blind date with my friend’s sister’s best friend. I was going through a rough phase in my life—one where I’d pretty much given up on romance and decided to focus entirely on work. One of my sisters kept insisting that I should start dating again. She even set me up with someone she swore would be a good match, telling me we were both Geminis and that I’d just been “looking for the right person in the wrong places.” I wasn’t sure what to think of that at the time, but I went along with it. The date was pleasant enough—she was kind, we had a good time—but there were no sparks.
I was ready to retreat back to my little dungeon of work and solitude, but my sister wouldn’t let me off the hook so easily. Around that time, my friend’s sister mentioned she had a friend who was feeling lonely and might be interested in meeting someone like me. Honestly, it didn’t sound all that promising, but mostly to get my sister off my back, I agreed to meet her.
I picked her up from her house, and we drove down to Edgewater, New Jersey, to meet up with my friend’s sister and her boyfriend for tea. The place doesn’t exist anymore, but it was a cool spot called—Greek-inspired, trendy, and cozy. Throughout the evening, I remember talking nonstop, occasionally glancing over at my date to see if she had anything to add. She was quiet. Even when I put her on the spot to share her thoughts, she’d give short, polite answers or just smile.
For someone like me, that kind of quiet can drive me crazy. Back then, I was always bursting with energy—into reading, science, technology, and history—and I wanted someone who could match my curiosity and intensity. So, by the end of the night, I was frustrated. I dropped her off, convinced that was the end of it.
But something about her lingered. Maybe it was curiosity—or stubbornness—but I decided to see her again, just to figure her out. We went out for dinner and a movie, and while it wasn’t wildly different from the first time, I decided to make my move anyway, if only to see what I might be missing. We kissed that night, but there was still something I couldn’t quite define.
We kept dating for several months, and though I was often unsure about where things were headed, there was just enough mystery to keep me intrigued. Looking back now, I have to tip my hat to my now-wife—for her patience, for putting up with me and my insecurities, and for not running away from someone who was so stubbornly convinced he knew exactly what he wanted.
If this were the fable of The Tortoise and the Hare, I was definitely the hare—impatient, impulsive, always racing toward the finish line—while she was the steady, thoughtful tortoise who quietly, steadfastly won my heart. She’s also the reason behind everything I’ve achieved in my life. Together, we’ve built a beautiful family with three amazing daughters.
Over the years, we’ve been through plenty of ups and downs, but she has always had my back. I like to think I’ve mellowed out a bit with age—that the once hyperactive hare has learned to slow down—but I can say with certainty that she’s the one who helped me become who I am today.
You know how they say opposites attract? I learned that lesson the hard way. Back then, I was searching for someone exactly like me—loud, driven, analytical—but life had other plans. She’s taught me more about patience, kindness, and balance than I ever thought possible. Over time, she helped me notice the quiet beauty in things, big and small. Take something as simple as fruit: before I met her, I never would’ve bought any. Because of her, I’ve learned to appreciate peaches, cherries, and apples—small, sweet reminders that life’s simplest things often bring the most joy.
Yesterday, we celebrated 25 years of marriage. Together with our three daughters, we went to a fancy restaurant and had an unforgettable evening. It’s the second year in a row that we’ve chosen to celebrate this special day not alone or on a getaway, but with our daughters. When I told my older sister about this, she joked that I didn’t know how to be romantic—but this was deliberate.
My wife and I want our daughters to remember that our marriage wasn’t just about the two of us—it was the beginning of a shared decision to build a family grounded in love, respect, and togetherness. By celebrating these milestones with them, we hope they’ll carry those memories forward into their own lives and relationships.
Here’s to many more decades ahead. May the tortoise always remind the hare that life isn’t a race to be won as quickly as possible—but a journey to savor, one slow, meaningful step at a time.
Photo by Mariano Rivas on Unsplash