So why do so many of us struggle in the relationships that matter?
For me, that question started long before I died.
When my parents divorced, I remember wondering:
How do I make sure this doesn’t happen to me?
I didn’t want to simply hope I’d meet the right man and end up with a happy marriage. I wanted to know what makes love last — and why some marriages grow stronger while others fall apart.
The more I learned about relationships, the more I realized they were only half the story.
Because to understand relationships, I had to understand people.
Men. Women. Why we communicate differently. Why we need different things. And why we can love each other deeply — yet still completely misunderstand each other.
Then I met Zander — the love of my life.
There was just one problem.
He lived in America while I lived in Australia.
People told me it was unrealistic. Long distance rarely works. “You’ll get catfished…”
But I had a choice.
Let other people decide what was possible for my life. Or dare for more.
I chose more.
I moved across the world — and it became the best decision I’ve ever made.
But finding the love of my life wasn’t the happy ending.
It was the beginning.
Because finding the right person and creating an extraordinary marriage are two very different things.
Our relationship became the place I put everything into practice. And I discovered something I wish more women knew:
A great marriage isn’t something you find and hope stays great. It’s something you intentionally create. And continue to create, year after year.
The relationship people once told us was “unrealistic” became a marriage — and a life — better than I could have imagined.
Together, we’ve built successful businesses, created financial freedom and what I can honestly say is our dream life.
But an extraordinary life doesn’t mean an easy one.
We’ve also buried our first baby, endured multiple miscarriages, and eventually found ourselves back at that moment I told you about at the beginning — with me fighting for my life after bleeding out on an operating table from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy.
Yet what I’m most proud of is that through it all, we didn’t grow apart.
We grew closer.
Seven years into our marriage, I love being married to Zander more than I did at the beginning. Not because we never disagree. Not because we see everything the same way. And not because we got lucky.
Because we’ve never stopped learning how to love each other better.
And maybe that’s what waking up after facing death made clearer than ever:
What if loving deeply is one of the most extraordinary things we get to do with our lives?
That’s why I created Dare for More.
Because “fine” isn’t the same thing as extraordinary.
And extraordinary shouldn’t be reserved for the lucky few.
So are you willing to dare for more?