Because perfectionism kills we strive to be good enough. Good enough parents, good enough spouses, good enough employees, good enough daughters and sons. But don’t mistake good enough for settling, for lowering the bar. 

Right before I met my husband I thought I might never marry because I was determined to not settle. A bit dramatic at 22. 

Then, when we met, we couldn’t believe how lucky we were to have found each other. He never ceased to express his awe and gratitude for how great I am. He helped me see myself through his eyes. And I also couldn’t believe how good he is, kind, true, gracious, honest, teachable, humble, and incredibly creative… 

We are flawed. We make mistakes and we try and repair. We err and we strive to do better. 

We belong together through sickness and health, through richer and poor, for better or worse. 

I remember how being with him felt like home. Safe. Seen. Loved and admired. He was brave enough to express how he felt.

We were unattached at 22, expecting great things, not in a state of suspended animation, but while living life as it was. Making the best of what we had. 

Today we still hold hands and he still thinks I hung the moon. 🌙