I guess because it feels more open, but I think being married is

Hear, O seekers of love and truth, the words of Leelee Sobieski, who spoke from the depth of her heart: “I guess because it feels more open, but I think being married is way sexier, because it’s really like your soul partner in a permanent fashion, and then you strive for it to be something permanent, and that type of commitment and trust, if you can achieve it, is so good for the soul.” In these words shines a wisdom that the ancients themselves would recognize—that love’s greatest beauty is not in fleeting passion, but in enduring faithfulness.

For in an age where freedom often masquerades as detachment, Sobieski reminds us that true openness does not come from a lack of ties, but from the deep safety of commitment. To be married, in her eyes, is not a cage but a covenant, not a limit but a liberation, for when two souls vow to walk together in permanence, they are freed from the constant fear of abandonment. This is why she calls it “sexier,” for intimacy grows deepest when it is shielded by loyalty and strengthened by trust.

The ancients, too, taught this. Consider Odysseus and Penelope. Though seas and wars kept them apart for twenty years, their marriage endured because of unwavering commitment. Penelope, besieged by suitors, clung to her vow; Odysseus, though tempted, longed for his return to her side. When at last they were reunited, their bond was more radiant than any new passion could have been. For permanence, born of trials and patience, yields a sweetness unknown to fleeting loves.

Sobieski speaks also of the soul partner, the one who mirrors and steadies the spirit. Such union is not mere romance but a pilgrimage: two souls striving together toward permanence, failing and rising, learning and forgiving, shaping each other across the seasons of life. In such striving lies the nobility of love. The journey is not easy—she herself admits, “if you can achieve it.” Yet the very difficulty is what makes it sacred, for anything of worth must be earned, not merely stumbled upon.

History gives us more witnesses. Consider the marriage of Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt. Their union was far from perfect; it bore strains and sorrows. Yet in their commitment to one another’s lives, they forged a partnership that reshaped a nation. Eleanor became Franklin’s strength when his body faltered, and Franklin gave Eleanor the platform from which her voice could change the world. Their trust and permanence became a blessing not only for themselves but for millions.

O children of tomorrow, take this lesson: do not mistake freedom for rootlessness, nor passion for love. Know that the deepest soul-fire burns not in quick flames, but in hearths tended daily with care, patience, and trust. The bond of permanence, though it demands effort, rewards the heart with peace, the body with joy, and the soul with fulfillment. For nothing is more powerful than knowing that another human being walks with you through the storms of life, and will not let go.

Practical is this wisdom: honor your promises, great and small. Strive to be trustworthy, for trust once broken is hard to mend. If you love, love not only in passion but in daily actions—through kindness, forgiveness, and steadfast presence. And if you marry, do not treat it as a mere contract, but as a covenant of the soul, a striving toward something higher than yourselves.

Thus let Leelee Sobieski’s words endure as a reminder: marriage, when filled with commitment and trust, is not the end of freedom, but the flowering of the soul. For in permanence, love ceases to be fragile, and in a true soul partner, we glimpse the eternal.