My Adventure down to YOU Powered Symposium and how to add a little extra fun and gifts into the mix

I Don't Want a Perfect Person In My Life

Written 6/21/2026 I have found my forever person. That sentence still feels strange to write. Not because I doubt it. Because for a long time, I wasn’t sure someone like her existed. Over the years, I’ve had countless conversations with friends going through divorce, recovering from divorce, or trying to date after divorce. Many of them describe their ideal partner. The list is usually impressive. He should be successful. Emotionally available. Financially secure. Handy around the house. A great communicator. A great listener. A great planner. A great father. Romantic. Adventurous. Spontaneous. Dependable. Passionate. Patient. And somehow available every Tuesday at 7:00 PM. The longer the list gets, the more I find myself thinking: “Good luck with that.” Life has taught me something different. I don’t want perfect. I want tested. I want someone who has been disappointed. Someone who has trusted the wrong person. Someone who has had their heart broken. Someone who has sat alone in their living room wondering how life ended up looking so different from the way they imagined. Not because I want them to suffer. But because suffering teaches things success never can. It teaches perspective. After enough disappointments, people stop looking for perfection. They start looking for consistency. They don’t need grand gestures. They appreciate simple ones. Show up when you said you would. Return the phone call. Be honest. Keep your word. Treat people kindly. Act like you actually care. It’s amazing how extraordinary those things become in a world where so many people don’t do them. The people who have been through hell and keep going are different. They’re often kinder. More patient. More grateful. More understanding. They know what loss feels like. They know what loneliness feels like. They know what it’s like to rebuild. And because of that, they don’t take genuine connection for granted. That’s what I found. The things my love has gone through make me shake my head sometimes. The disappointments. The heartbreaks. The moments when people failed her. Part of me wishes she had never experienced any of it. But another part of me knows that every step of that journey helped create the woman I fell in love with. A woman who is beautiful. A woman who is sexy. A woman who is caring. A woman whose value is far greater than she often realizes herself. As she continues to come out of her shell, I find myself doing the same thing. Because the truth is, I’ve been through my own battles. My own heartbreak. My own disappointments. My own moments of wondering whether I’d ever find the right person. What makes our relationship special isn’t that one of us healed the other. It’s that we understand each other’s scars. We know where the land mines are. We know which wounds still ache on certain days. And instead of judging them, we protect them. We become a place of refuge for one another. A place of peace. That’s a rare gift. So if you’re ever looking for someone, don’t overlook the people who have been knocked down by life but keep getting back up. Those are the people who know how to love. Not because life was easy. But because it wasn’t. And they chose to keep their hearts open anyway. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit rslayton.substack.com/subscribe [https://rslayton.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_2]

Building a Life Together Isn’t What It Used to Be

Robert’s Substack is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Written 6/10/2026 As many of you know, I’ve found my forever partner. We spend almost every day together. Sometimes it’s a full day of adventures. Sometimes it’s dinner after work. Sometimes it’s simply falling asleep in each other’s arms. That’s the easy part. The challenging part is that we’re not twenty anymore. If we had met in our twenties, we probably would have moved in together months ago. Back then, one or both of us would have been living in an apartment. One person gives up their lease, moves in, and life goes on. But life isn’t that simple when you’re older. We both have homes. We both have pets. We both have adult children. We both have lives that existed long before we met each other. The first hurdle is family. Last weekend I took her daughters out for brunch so we could spend some time getting to know each other. We had met briefly around Christmas, but we really hadn’t had a chance to talk. I gave them a choice of restaurants, and they picked White Sheep in Naperville—a higher-end breakfast spot known for making its own doughnuts. We spent about an hour and a half together talking, laughing, and sharing stories. I think it went well. My daughter has been wonderful about my relationship. She’s had conversations with my girlfriend, they’ve spent time together, and she’s completely comfortable with her being part of my life. My son, who lives out of state, is taking a different approach. He’s avoiding the conversation altogether. I get it. Change takes time. Thanks for reading Robert’s Substack! This post is public so feel free to share it. My girlfriend and I have already talked about spending a few days with him and his wife so everyone has an opportunity to get to know one another. From there, we’d likely head south to visit her oldest daughter near Washington, D.C. Her other daughter lives in Kansas. My hope is that over the coming years our families come to know, respect, and genuinely enjoy one another’s company. And if that doesn’t happen overnight? We’ll keep working on it. I know some people disagree, but I believe that after spending twenty-plus years raising children, we earn the opportunity to prioritize our own happiness. That doesn’t mean abandoning our responsibilities. It simply means recognizing that our lives matter too. Do you think that’s crazy? Then there’s the question everyone eventually asks: “So when are you moving in together?” The honest answer is that I don’t know. I’m still working through some financial issues that need to be resolved before making any major decisions. Once those are behind me, the conversation becomes much more practical. She would prefer to stay in her house. It makes sense. It’s larger, has a basement, and holds decades of memories. Her children still have their bedrooms exactly as they left them after high school. There’s something beautiful about that. My gut tells me the path forward will become clear within the next six to twelve months. Maybe we stay where we are. Maybe we move into her home. Maybe she gets an opportunity in another city and we start a new chapter somewhere entirely different. I honestly don’t know. What I do know is that we’ve already introduced the pets, and they tolerate each other reasonably well. We’ve met each other’s friends. We’ve begun weaving our separate worlds together one thread at a time. So far, so good. This is new territory for both of us. There are moments when it’s exciting. Moments when it’s a little nerve-racking. Moments when neither of us knows exactly what the next step should be. But I’ve become pretty good at envisioning our life three years from now. I see us living together. I see us building a home. I see us sharing the ordinary moments that ultimately become the most meaningful parts of life. We’re not in a rush. We’re building something intended to last. And sometimes the things worth having take a little longer to create. If you’ve successfully blended families, navigated a later-in-life relationship, or found your own way through these questions, I’d love to hear your advice. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments. We’re figuring this out as we go, and I’ll gladly accept all the wisdom I can get. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit rslayton.substack.com/subscribe [https://rslayton.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_2]

The Inspection - Going to a Graduation Party for my GF's Ex-Husband's family and meeting them as the New Man in her life

Written June 7, 2026. Being invited to a graduation party is always nice and when my GF told me about it, I didn’t think much of it until she told me who it was for. This was her ex-husband’s family’s graduation party. He wasn’t invited and she was. Think about what that. It was his side of the family gathering at Jesse Oaks in Grayslake Illinois. A local institution that’s been around for 30 years complete with sand volleyball courts, beer garden, and food that’s good enough to keep people coming back year after year. What struck me wasn’t the venue, it was that even when a relationship ends, families don’t. Over the years, she had remained friends with many of them. They still considered her family. Not because they had to, but because they chose to. That’s a rare thing nowadays. The second reason why this party was going to be different was that they all knew about GF’s new “man in her life.” They had seen the Facebook photos, heard stories, exchanged messages with her. Now they were finally going to meet me. If you’ve ever been in a serious relationship, you know the moment I’m talking about. Not just meeting people, but being evaluated. Not evaluated in a hostile way, more like a committee meeting that nobody tells you is happening. * Is he good to her? * Does he make her laugh? * Does she seem happy? * Can we trust him? We walked in together. Heads turned. Eyes moved from her to me and back again. The sparkle in their expressions told me everything I needed to know. So this is Robert. My girlfriend moved through the crowd, hugging people she had known for years. “This is Robert.” Handshakes. Hugs. Smiles. A few knowing looks. Years ago, I would have been incredibly uncomfortable; worried about making a good impression. Age has a funny way of changing that. These days my thought process is much simpler: Let’s grab a drink and enjoy the party. The drinks were free, the pizza was good, the home made pies were outstanding. The conversations flowed easily. At some point I found myself teasing John. Before the party, he had tried to call my girlfriend to warn her about construction on I-355. A thoughtful gesture. Unfortunately, she never got the message, and we took a different route anyway. For the rest of the afternoon, whenever someone mentioned contacting John, I couldn’t resist. “Well, so-and-so tried to call you, but apparently you didn’t get the message.” The joke never got old. At least not for me. More importantly, it helped me stop being the new boyfriend and become just another person at the party. And maybe that’s what I took away from the day. When we’re younger, relationships often feel like auditions. You’re trying to prove yourself and trying to fit in. Trying to earn approval. But eventually, if you’re fortunate, you realize something different. That you don’t have to perform. You simply show up as yourself. You laugh. You tell stories. You make terrible jokes and you eat too much pie. And somewhere along the way, a room full of strangers stops feeling like strangers. I realized nobody was really inspecting me after all. They were just hoping the person they care about had found someone who would care about her, too. That’s a much easier test to pass. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit rslayton.substack.com/subscribe [https://rslayton.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_2]

How Humbling Foot Surgery is, especially when shopping at Walmart

. Robert’s Substack is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Written 4/30/2026 I’m a little over a week into my eight week recovery from bunion surgery and a hammer toe repair (complete with a pin sticking out of the tip of my second toe). I have been avoiding it for 5 years, but when my bones started grinding every time I walked, it was time to bite the bullet. The doctor says it could take 3 to 5 months, but I’m giving it 2 months. At the 2 month mark I hope to be dancing West Coast Swing (very smooth dance) and riding my motorcycle. I also am excited about getting back to running which I imagine may take closer to 3 months to accomplish. The foot is bound and I can only put weight on my heel. They will rebandage the foot at the 2 week mark and that will be the first time I truly see what they did. I’ve always been “the man in the arena” fully participating in life. This surgery has taken me out of this for a short period of time. Furthermore, I had to rely on someone else (GF) to help me through this initial phase. I couldn’t have done the first day myself without risk. I’m very thankful I had such a wonderful, loving person looking after me. I don’t like to rely totally on another. It’s not my modus operandi. I’m a guy, guy’s are supposed to be self reliant. Our worth is measured by what we provide, not who we are (which really sucks, but I don’t make the rules). It’s taught me to allow people to help me and that it’s okay to rely on other people. A shout out to my ex who is keeping my dog an extra week while I heal through this (we share her every other week). I had a really humbling experience shopping at Walmart yesterday. I needed groceries and thought I’d try walking around. I got 50 steps into the store and realized it wasn’t going to happen, so had to grab a motorized cart. I felt embarrassed by my need for the cart. I swallowed my pride and rode around. There was no way around it and after a little while I forgot about how I looked and just shopped with my GF putting things into the cart. As we age, we end up needing more and more help. This is okay as it gives others the opportunity to feel good by serving you. If taken the right way, it keeps you humble and kind. That said, please pray for my swift recovery. Thanks, Robert This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit rslayton.substack.com/subscribe [https://rslayton.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_2]

Insurance Doesn’t Have an Ethics Problem

Written 4/3/2026. Let’s get something straight. Ethics training for insurance agents didn’t happen because the industry suddenly cared more about doing the right thing. It happened because the system kept producing the wrong results. What actually went wrong For years, regulators saw the same patterns: * Agents overstating what policies covered * Replacing policies just to generate new commissions * Products so complex that the average person couldn’t realistically understand them So the response became… ethics training. But that assumes the problem was a lack of understanding. It wasn’t. The real problem The system pays for behavior. And people follow the money. If you pay someone more to sell something new than to maintain what’s already in place, what do you expect to happen? The system wasn’t broken. It was working exactly as designed. Then we made it worse Insurance products didn’t get simpler—they got more complicated. Variable life.Annuities with caps, triggers, and riders. At some point, this stopped being about “explaining things better.” The complexity itself created space for manipulation. Why ethics training exists After lawsuits, media attention, and regulatory pressure, something had to be done. So ethics training became mandatory. Not to make agents ethical. To create accountability. It does three things: * Defines a minimum standard of behavior * Gives regulators something to enforce * Protects carriers and states legally If something goes wrong, the answer is simple: “You were trained. You knew better.” What it actually accomplishes Let’s be honest. Ethics training does not eliminate bad behavior. It filters out the most obvious violations. That’s it. Because the underlying system hasn’t changed: * Commissions still drive decisions * Products are more complex than ever * Consumers are still at a disadvantage So what would actually fix it? You have to change the incentives. Not the training. If doing the right thing is harder, slower, or less profitable… most people won’t do it consistently. A real-world example When I help someone with individual health insurance outside of open enrollment, I might get paid $20 per month. Many of these policies only last a few months. That means I might earn $60 total. For one to two hours of work. That doesn’t work economically. And when the math doesn’t work, behavior changes. The Medicare problem (and unintended consequences) Agents generally can’t charge fees for Medicare advice. Sounds consumer-friendly. Until you look closer. If someone needs help choosing a Part D drug plan, the compensation is often minimal—sometimes nothing. So what happens? Most agents don’t offer that service. Not because they don’t care. Because they can’t afford to. And now seniors are left making complex decisions on their own—often choosing the wrong plan. In trying to protect consumers from fees, the system actually reduced access to good advice. What needs to change If agents could charge transparent fees: The question shifts from👉 “What pays me?” to👉 “What’s best for this person?” That’s a meaningful change. But here’s the catch Consumers have to value expertise. You can’t demand unbiased advice while insisting it should be free. Because it’s not free. You’re just paying for it in ways you don’t see—and often in ways that don’t align with your best interest. Bottom line Ethics training isn’t the solution. It’s a patch. Until incentives change, the outcomes won’t. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit rslayton.substack.com/subscribe [https://rslayton.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_2]