I have.

Twice married. Twice divorced.
Dozens of relationships.
Countless nights where I felt invisible—except for what someone could take from me.

For most of my life, I thought if I could just be better—more pleasing, more accommodating, more chill, more quiet, more sexy, more… something—then love would stay. Then I’d finally be enough.

Then I watched a movie on Netflix called The Life List.

It stars Connie Britton (yep, Rayna from Nashville) as a mom, Elizabeth Rose, who dies and leaves her daughter Alex a challenge: complete a childhood bucket list to inherit her legacy. It’s sweet, it’s heartbreaking, it’s surprisingly funny—but one part wrecked me in the best way.

Before she dies, Elizabeth gives Alex four questions to ask when choosing a life partner:

1. Are they kind?

2. Can you tell them everything in your heart?

3. Do you want to raise children with them?

4. Do they help you become the very best version of yourself?

The simplicity. The clarity. The tenderness.

I paused the movie and cried.

Because for most of my life, the answer to all four of those questions was no.
Or maybe.
Or “sort of, sometimes, I guess that’s enough?”

The truth is, I didn’t think I deserved all four.

I thought if I could just have a man, be chosen by one, that was already a win.
I thought love was supposed to hurt a little.
I thought sacrificing my own needs was noble.

I let men use my body even when it didn’t feel good, loving, or right.
I felt shame for how I allowed myself to be treated—and for how deeply I longed to be seen.
I was always asking, “Am I a good fit for him?”
It never occurred to me to ask: “Is he a good fit for me?”

And then… Kelly.

Kelly is my all four yeses.

Kindness? Overflowing.
Can I share everything in my heart? Yes, even the broken parts.
Do I want a life with them, raise kids with them? Absolutely.
Do they help me become my best self? Every single day—without trying to fix or change me. Just by holding space for me to be fully me.

With Kelly, I am uncovering parts of myself I thought were long gone—buried to keep love from leaving.
Now, I’m letting those pieces breathe.
Now, I’m being seen and celebrated, not in spite of my complexity, but because of it.

What if the thing that’s been missing all along… is your belief that you deserve more?

I don’t think I’m alone in this.
I think there are a lot of us—especially queer women, moms, survivors, dreamers—who’ve shrunk ourselves just to be loved. Who’ve accepted half-hearted affection in the name of companionship. Who’ve settled.

If that’s you? Please hear me:

You are worthy of a love that holds space for every single part of who you are.
And it begins by loving yourself enough to believe you can have it all.

Not perfect. Not pain-free. But honest, expansive, and soul-affirming.

Let’s Talk. For Real.

💬 Have you ever felt like you were settling in love?
💬 Which of the “Four Yeses” are you learning to say yes to for yourself?
💬 What parts of you are ready to come out of hiding?

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Let’s keep this real. Let’s build a world where no one has to settle for half-love again.