Marriage is a journey. It's hills and valleys.

The words of Eva Amurri, “Marriage is a journey. It’s hills and valleys,” arise from the quiet wisdom of experience — from one who has walked the road of love long enough to know that its path is not straight nor smooth, but winding, unpredictable, and profoundly human. In this simple sentence lies a truth as old as time itself: that marriage, like life, is not a destination, but a pilgrimage — one filled with moments of joy and sorrow, triumph and humility, connection and distance. The ancients would have recognized this as the eternal rhythm of the heart, the sacred dance between two souls who choose, day after day, to travel together through both sunshine and storm.

To call marriage a journey is to reject the illusion that love is static or complete. Many enter it thinking it is a final arrival — the happily-ever-after promised by stories. But Amurri, with clear eyes, reminds us that love is instead a process of becoming, a landscape that changes with the seasons of life. The hills are the moments of beauty and achievement — the days when laughter fills the air and partnership feels effortless. The valleys, though darker, are equally sacred: the days of disagreement, fatigue, or silence, where the heart must dig deep to remember why it chose this path in the first place. Without the valleys, the hills would have no meaning; without struggle, joy would not be so precious.

This wisdom is echoed in the ancient world. The philosopher Plato, in his dialogue The Symposium, described love as the search for completion — a longing that pushes two beings to grow together. Yet he warned that such unity demands discipline and understanding. The ancients believed that true partnership was a form of spiritual training — a school of the soul. Like a mountain path, marriage teaches endurance, patience, and humility. When Eva Amurri speaks of its “hills and valleys,” she touches the same truth Plato did: that the purpose of marriage is not comfort, but transformation.

Consider the story of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, whose union, though often idealized, was not without pain. Their marriage endured jealousy, illness, political burden, and grief — yet through every valley, their bond deepened. When Albert died, Victoria mourned him for decades, calling him her “angel.” Their love was not perfect, but it was devoted. Through trials, they built not a fairy tale, but a monument to endurance. Their story mirrors Amurri’s insight: that love’s greatness lies not in its ease, but in its perseverance through the valleys of loss and misunderstanding.

In truth, every marriage is a landscape shaped by time. There are seasons of harmony, when both souls move in rhythm, and seasons of dissonance, when they seem to drift apart. Yet, if they keep walking — if they continue the journey side by side — they find that even in the valley there are wildflowers, and even on the hilltop there is wind. Commitment is not the refusal to change, but the promise to change together. This is the quiet heroism of love — not the passion of its beginning, but the resilience of its continuation.

Amurri’s revelation carries within it the humility of someone who has lived this truth, who has seen both joy and sorrow in her own marriage. To describe it as “a journey” is to remove the illusion of perfection and replace it with something more real — growth. Every misstep, every reconciliation, every tear, becomes part of a shared history that binds the couple more deeply than any vow spoken at the altar. The journey shapes the travelers; in walking it together, they become wiser, softer, and more human.

Let this be the teaching drawn from her words: do not seek a perfect marriage; seek an enduring one. Embrace the hills with gratitude and the valleys with patience. When the road grows steep, remember that hardship is not a sign of failure, but the price of intimacy. Love’s worth is not measured by how often the sun shines, but by how faithfully two people shelter each other when it rains.

Thus, Eva Amurri’s simple reflection becomes an ancient truth reborn — that love, like all great journeys, asks for courage. Its road is uneven, its milestones unseen, yet for those who walk it with open hearts, the view from every summit — and even the lessons learned in the valley — reveal something divine. For in the end, it is not the destination that sanctifies marriage, but the shared journey itself.