I used to think I wanted to be the most talented person in the room because I was competitive. The deeper truth was harder to admit: ordinary me didn’t always feel safe enough. Somewhere along the way, I learned to believe that if I could become useful enough, impressive enough, hardworking enough, creative enough, maybe I would become harder to leave. But love was never supposed to be a performance review. I am learning that I don’t have to become extraordinary to be worthy of ordinary love.

I had become so practiced at surviving that I stopped giving myself credit for it. Now life is asking something entirely new of me—not to endure more, but to let peace become as natural as survival once was.