I married on June 7, 1970, at St. John Baptist Church in Milpitas, California.

At just 17, I was young, convinced I was in love, and determined enough to persuade my father to let me go through with it. My first husband, Dennis H., was 21.

He believed that once you “seal the deal,” everything naturally falls into place, leading to a marriage like his parents—a classic “happily ever after.”

I was determined to avoid a marriage like my dad’s and Dotti’s, which they often described as “unhappily ever after.”

At the time, I was filled with joy, optimism, passion, and the boundless energy of youth.

“For as long as you both shall live”—a vow I embraced with all the gravity and sincerity of a 17-year-old.

Did I mention I was 17?

At the time, I didn’t have any role models for a healthy relationship, and Dennis’s parents had plenty of reasons to doubt our marriage would last.

When we tied the knot, I was still a senior in high school. In 1970, the divorce rate in the U.S. stood at 3.5 per 1,000 people, but it skyrocketed throughout the decade, reaching 5.1 per 1,000 by the late 1970s.

We recited the traditional vows, including “til death do us part,” but I thought, “I’ll stay married as long as I want.”

Dennis’s love was unconditional, while for me, our relationship depended on happiness and a mutual desire to keep going. We were in love, at least as much as anyone could be. We were married in front of 150 family members and friends, and I still cherish the wonderful memories of that incredible day and night.

Our stay in a luxurious honeymoon suite at a five-star hotel was a gift from my father.

Although we had been together for a year before getting married, our assumptions and expectations about what “marriage” meant were fundamentally different. These differences ultimately led to our separation. After three years of marriage, Dennis was eager to start a family while I was focused on beginning college. We tried couples therapy at the church for a few sessions, but eventually, I moved out and got my apartment. Dennis begged me not to leave, refused to sign the divorce papers, and even went to my parents for help. After six months, he finally accepted that I wasn’t coming back. Once the divorce papers were signed, we never spoke again. Our lives took us in entirely different directions.

I pursued law and psychology for years, fueled by a deep curiosity about understanding people—their actions, beliefs, and what drives them.

“Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.” ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Airman’s Odyssey

It became clear that I needed to redefine the word “relationship.”

Although I haven’t experienced it yet, I still believe that two people can support each other in staying focused rather than losing their way.