One thing that is super, super important - as much as possible -

“One thing that is super, super important — as much as possible — you have to treat your spouse like you’re still dating them.” Thus spoke Terry Dubrow, a man of modern times yet echoing a truth as old as love itself. Beneath his casual phrasing lies an eternal principle: that love, if it is to live, must not be left to comfort alone. Affection must be tended as one tends a fire — fed, stirred, and protected from the slow death of neglect. To treat your spouse like you’re still dating them is to honor the sacred art of renewal, to remember that passion is not a gift that lasts by chance, but a garden that flourishes only when watered daily by choice.

In the early days of love, the heart burns bright. Every word is wonder, every glance a promise. Two souls, like twin flames, draw close in awe and discovery. But as time passes and the years grow steady, the fire can fade into embers. Routine replaces mystery, duty overshadows delight. It is then that Dubrow’s wisdom becomes a commandment: Remember what it felt like to court the one you now call your own. The ancients taught that true devotion is not measured by grand declarations, but by constancy. To treat your beloved as if you were still winning their heart is to keep the divine spark alive — the spark that first drew you together under the gaze of destiny.

The philosophers of old spoke of this truth in other tongues. Plato, in his dialogues, called love “the pursuit of the eternal,” and to pursue the eternal is to never stop reaching. When one ceases to strive for beauty, beauty fades. When one ceases to nurture affection, affection wanes. Thus, Dubrow’s modern counsel is but the echo of ancient wisdom: that love, to be immortal, must forever be renewed through action. The lover must never cease to woo, and the beloved must never cease to inspire. Together, they must remain both explorers and guardians — of each other’s souls.

Consider the tale of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina, the Roman emperor and his queen. Though burdened with the weight of empire, Marcus wrote of her often — his gratitude, his affection, his desire to be better for her sake. He did not take her for granted, even as the years passed. His letters were not those of an emperor to his consort, but of a man still in awe of the woman who shared his life. Such devotion was no accident; it was practice. Marcus understood that familiarity can dull the senses, but remembrance can restore the flame. To treat your spouse like you’re still dating them is to look upon them each day as if you were seeing them anew — to choose wonder over weariness, and gratitude over assumption.

There is humility in this teaching as well. To continue “dating” the one you love requires a heart that does not grow proud or complacent. It means learning again to listen, to surprise, to delight. It means remembering that your partner’s heart is not a possession, but a mystery that deserves reverence. Terry Dubrow’s words remind us that marriage is not a resting place; it is a pilgrimage — one where every gesture, every word, can either draw you closer to the sacred or lead you astray into indifference.

Even the poets of the East knew this. The Persian mystic Rumi wrote, “The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you.” In this he spoke of the eternal renewal of love — that every day offers a chance to rediscover the one we thought we already knew. To treat your spouse like you’re still dating them is to live that rediscovery in practice. It is to awaken each morning and think, How can I love you better today than I did yesterday? It is to chase not novelty, but depth — to make the familiar sacred again.

So, my children, learn from this: Love is not self-sustaining; it must be sustained. Do not allow time to dull your tenderness or routine to harden your care. Surprise your beloved. Speak kindly even when silence would be easier. Laugh together as though the years had not passed, and hold hands as though the world might end tomorrow. Let your love remain a living thing — growing, breathing, and radiant.

For in the end, to treat your spouse like you’re still dating them is not to pretend you are young again — it is to honor the youth that still lives within your love. It is to refuse the decay of complacency and to celebrate the sacred truth that passion and friendship, when nourished by devotion, can last beyond time. Do this, and your love shall not merely endure — it shall shine, like a star that never forgets how to burn.