Hint: It's not what you think.
Look, we all have to make money. Some of us have to cook and/or serve stuff that we pretend is food, some of us have to sit in an office and do stuff with numbers that nobody really understands. I get paid to write, and many times people ask me to write relationship stuff. Sometimes I even get paid to make fun of my girlfriend. (Thankfully, my girlfriend gets paid to do the same thing, and she's probably going to edit this since she's a better speller than I am.)
Here's the thing about relationships: Women are always right. Right? Well, that's not really true, but it's how everyone is raised. Ladies are just better at not giving up an argument, so they usually win because guys run out of words. Not that my girlfriend and I argue a lot, but when we disagree on something, she's just better prepared to get her way. Think of it like this: when it comes to arguing, girls' brains are like an iPhone, and guys' brains are like a sack of beans. One of those things just works better.
BUT! Now I don't have to worry about winning any disagreement. They all just become fodder for an article. It doesn't matter who wins, because I'm the one who ends up getting paid. If I forgot to take the trash out, she and I can have a discussion over it, or I can just keep my mouth shut and write my point out and then make some money. And then spend that money on chicken. Basically, every argument ends with me getting more money for more chicken. I win!
For example, sometimes (read: often) we'll get into a disagreement over whether or not I should get a mullet. I think that I should get one, she says she'd pretend not to know who I am if I get a mullet. We can go back and forth all we want about the pros and cons of having a mullet. She's never going to admit that mullets are the best. (They are, every single President of the United States has had a mullet at some point in their life. PROVE ME WRONG!)
It doesn't matter how that conversation ends. (Spoiler: it ends with me not getting a mullet, because life is full of sadness.) The entire time we're arguing about the mullet, I'm just thinking about chicken. Because I get to write about wanting a mullet, get paid, and then I'm gonna put some chicken in my belly. And that's how I win, by putting chicken in my belly.