Andrew Bolt: The clues on how I made the best decision of my life

While taking my wife Sally to dinner for her birthday, I wondered by what miracle I ended up married to someone who makes me happier and less flawed.

Andrew Bolt reveals the secret behind his happy marriage to wife Sally.

I can’t remember making the best decision of my life. How strange, I thought as I took my wife to dinner for her 60th.

I shouldn’t mention that age. She loathes it and won’t celebrate her birthday with anyone else.

Yet she looked so beautiful, and I wondered again by what miracle we - I - end up married to someone who makes you happier, stronger and less flawed.

I doubt most men are looking for a wife when we first ask a girl on a date, or are calculating if she’ll still suit decades later.

But the clues to why it’s worked for me were there at the start. I noticed Sally’s warm brown eyes in our first real chat in a café near the old Herald newspaper where we met, and felt certain she was loved and loving.

That was her great attraction, and for once I was smart: it still defines her. Ask her children. Ask her friends and the troubled people she helps. Ask me; at times in my career, I’d have been destroyed without her.

And a loving heart, unlike youth, lasts forever.

But back then I wasn’t thinking about being with this woman for the rest of her life, or mine. I was just trying to dare ask her to dinner.

Then I had to pretend I liked her music. Pretend I wasn’t such an obsessive introvert. Then one more step after the other until … wow.

Here we are, both now in our 60s, me almost socialised and surprised to find this is the best time of our lives.

Much of that happiness comes from lasting so long together. I know marriages break up sometimes for good reasons, but I adore having someone who shares decades of memories. Memories aren’t much, otherwise. They wither, and you lose half your life.

And what an age to be alive. We’re still healthy and can plan adventures, with the mortgage paid, our three lovely children launched and no one but ourselves to please.

Even better, we’ve proved we’re a team forever, so why waste an hour on a sulk, when everything comes good anyway?

True, that’s not quite my nature. My columns show how fixated I can be.

So I give the credit to someone born 60 years ago this week with a loving heart. I’m so lucky.

Yes, this column is an indulgence. I should write for you. Today, it’s for Sally.