My personal truth as a clinical psychologist, for today (September 27, 2026): Love requires repair. No relationship avoids injury; the capacity to repair distinguishes healthy bonds. You will say something cruel in an argument. You will forget something that mattered enormously to the other person. You will be distracted when they needed your attention. You will get defensive instead of listening. You will make a joke that lands as an insult. You will promise something and fail to follow through. Sometimes you won’t even understand why what you did hurt so much. That is not the test of a relationship. The test is what happens next. Do you explain yourself, or try to understand? Do you insist, “That’s not what I meant,” or become curious about how it felt? Can you say, “I see why that hurt you,” without immediately adding a but? Repair can be very small. Reaching for a hand after an argument. Coming back into the room instead of staying withdrawn. Saying, “I was defensive before. Try telling me again.” Sending a text from work: “I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning. You were right that I wasn’t really listening.” And repair is not just apology. It is changed behavior. If I keep hurting you in exactly the same way and keep saying I’m sorry, eventually the apology becomes part of the injury. The strongest relationships are not the ones in which people never wound each other. They are the ones in which neither person has to wonder forever whether the wound matters.