Throughout my life, I’ve found myself stepping into a therapist or doctor role to my friends and family. I’ve always asked lots of questions and am genuinely interested in people’s lives and experiences. Lucky for me, people inherently want to talk about themselves. I am open about my private life so historically others feel comfortable confiding in me.

As a child, adults never censored themselves around me because I was precocious enough to understand and by the time I was a teenager, my parents considered me an adult. Others coined me “wise beyond my years.” I got married at 25 and divorced at 30; I have two kids and three cats; I have moved 10 times in 20 years and have been audited by the IRS and gone to traffic court and have tattoos I can hide. I’ve worked corporate jobs for a decade and ran my own business and my husband’s business and had mental health challenges. I’ve entered many life clubs and lived many stories so when a friend asks for advice, it’s because I’ve usually gone through something similar.

For the last decade, I preached love, and while I never claim to be a relationship expert, I’m happy to share the story of my divorce and the love of my life which I met afterwards. We got married on our 10-year anniversary and pompously are “that couple,” which elicit eye rolls from any couple who aren’t newlyweds in their 40s.

A cliff-notes version of my love rhetoric:

• If it’s right, you won’t doubt it. It’s that easy. Love shouldn’t be hard; life will do that and the person you love should be on your side.
• When you see your person across the room, you should feel PRIDE that they are yours.
• You should respect them as a person in the world, outside of your relationship.
• You should know they will be a good parent – even if not to your kids – even if not now.
• Don’t discount what your heart feels or what your skin feels because chemistry is real.
• If you don’t feel compelled to kiss them when you stare into their eyes or need to have a piece of you touching a piece of them, it’s not the real deal.

Sometimes I feel ironic when I spew love advice, (which is often), but it doesn’t stop me from doing it. Because when you tap into the magical core of the deepest-earth love, you want others to taste it too and you don’t want to them to settle on the tuna fish of love when they can be having the caviar. Of course, I also remind myself that you can’t judge others by your standards. (My husband doesn’t even like caviar.)