Lately, I’ve been thinking about how good things feel between my wife and me. Not perfect—after all these years together, we know marriage doesn’t work that way—but balanced. We’re connected, we communicate, and we’ve created room for each other to pursue the things that matter to us. For me, one of those things has always been music, and what feels different today is that pursuing it no longer feels like it has to come at the expense of my marriage.
That wasn’t always the case. While writing Bronx Beats: Chasing Dreams Under City Lights, I had to revisit a younger version of myself who was completely consumed with trying to make it in music. I was a husband and father with a full-time job, but there were rehearsals, studio sessions, shows, travel, and money constantly being poured into the dream. Looking back, I can see how often my family was expected to adjust around what I wanted to accomplish.
There’s a line in the book that probably captures it better than anything I could write today:
“The problem was that I treated my wife, like a spectator rather than a partner.”
At the time, I convinced myself that I was doing all of it for us. If I succeeded, we would all benefit. But the truth is that I didn’t yet understand what partnership really required.
What Balance Looks Like Now
Today, one of the biggest flexes in our marriage is surprisingly ordinary: we share a digital calendar. I have three days each week carved out for studio time, client sessions go on the calendar, and so do our plans together. My wife can block time and make adjustments too. It means we both know what’s happening, there are fewer surprises, and the transparency that I didn’t understand when I was younger has become a normal part of our marriage.
More importantly, that calendar isn’t just there to make room for my music. My wife has goals and things she wants to accomplish too. Her time deserves the same consideration I expect for mine. If I want her to understand why a studio session matters to me, I need to understand why something she wants to pursue matters to her. Partnership isn’t having someone who supports your dream. It’s two people making room for each other’s dreams.
I think that’s what I misunderstood about balance for so many years. It isn’t figuring out how much time I can spend making music without creating problems at home. It’s building a life where neither person has to disappear so the other one can become who they want to be.
I can’t change how I handled things when I was younger, and I write honestly about those mistakes in Bronx Beats. But I can appreciate where we are today. I can walk into my studio and enjoy making music without feeling like I’m taking something away from my marriage, and my wife can pursue the things that matter to her knowing I’m behind her too.
It took me years to learn that I didn’t have to choose between the person I love and the things I love doing. I just had to learn how to make room for both.
This is one small piece of the story I tell in Bronx Beats: Chasing Dreams Under City Lights. If you’d like to read more about my journey through music, marriage, family, and the mistakes and lessons that shaped me along the way, you can choose the version that works best for you.
Bronx Beats: Chasing Dreams Under City Lights
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