The best marriages are the ones where we can go out in the world

The modern sage and researcher of the human heart, Brené Brown, once said: “The best marriages are the ones where we can go out in the world and really put ourselves out there. A lot of times we'll fail, and sometimes we'll pull it off. But good marriages are when you can go home and know that your vulnerability will be honored as courage, and that you'll find support.” In these words lies a truth as timeless as love itself — that the foundation of all lasting union is not perfection, nor endless triumph, but trust, vulnerability, and the courage to be seen. For marriage, in its truest form, is not a sanctuary from the storms of life, but a harbor where two souls may find shelter as they brave them together.

Brené Brown, whose life's work centers upon vulnerability and courage, speaks here not merely of marriage, but of the sacred partnership that transforms two individuals into a living covenant of trust. She reminds us that to love is to risk — to step into the world, to strive, to fail, and to return home with both triumph and defeat. A good marriage is not one where both partners always succeed, but one where each can stumble and still be embraced, not with judgment, but with understanding. In such a home, failure becomes not shame, but shared experience, and the act of returning, weary yet unbroken, becomes itself a form of love.

To honor vulnerability as courage is to see the deepest truth of the human soul. For vulnerability is not weakness, but the raw expression of authenticity — the willingness to be seen without armor. The warrior of love does not hide his wounds, and the wise partner does not turn away from them. In this sense, love is not the absence of fear, but the bravery of walking hand in hand despite it. Marriage, as Brown teaches, is a sanctuary where the masks of the world can fall away, where strength is measured not by how well we hide our fears, but by how gently we reveal them to one another.

In the old tales, there are countless lovers who fought battles together — not with swords, but with hearts steadfast against life’s trials. Consider Eleanor and Franklin Roosevelt, who weathered political storms, personal sorrows, and public scrutiny side by side. Their union was far from flawless, yet their shared purpose — their devotion to causes greater than themselves — gave their partnership depth and meaning. Eleanor, once timid, became a voice for justice because her marriage, for all its wounds, gave her the space to grow. Franklin, in turn, leaned on her courage when his own body failed him. Between them, vulnerability became strength, and support became the language of love.

In this way, Brown’s wisdom echoes the lessons of the ancients: that love is not found in ease, but in endurance; not in constant harmony, but in the grace with which two souls meet each other’s imperfections. A marriage that honors vulnerability as courage is one that celebrates honesty above pride. It is the kind of bond where one can say, “I am afraid,” and be met not with ridicule, but with a hand reaching out in compassion. In such a union, failure loses its sting, for it becomes a shared trial, and success shines brighter, for it is a shared triumph.

Support, in this sacred context, is not mere comfort — it is a form of reverence. It is the act of saying, “You are safe with me, even in your brokenness.” The world outside may reward victory, but love rewards effort. The world may honor confidence, but love honors truth. And when a couple builds a home upon this understanding, that home becomes a fortress of peace, a place where the weary heart may rest and renew itself before facing the world again. Such marriages do not demand perfection; they cultivate forgiveness, compassion, and the courage to keep choosing each other, day after day.

So, my child, remember this: to love deeply is to be brave. When you venture into the world, do so boldly, knowing that you will falter, for faltering is the proof of living. And when you return home, seek not judgment nor victory, but understanding. If you are blessed to have someone who honors your vulnerability as courage, guard that bond with tenderness and gratitude. Offer the same in return — to listen without haste, to comfort without pity, to stand beside without fear. For this is the heart of Brené Brown’s teaching: that the highest form of love is not to shield each other from life, but to face life together, hand in hand, with courage, honesty, and grace.