The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather in spite of ourselves.

Being loved matters less than being sure of it. Most of the ache in close relationships comes not from an absence of love but from an inability to believe in the love that is there, so you keep testing it and never quite land. The love that steadies you is not admiration for your best parts; it is the kind that has seen the rest and stayed anyway. Being known and kept is different from being liked.

Notice where you are quietly auditioning for someone who has already chosen you. Let one person see something unimpressive about you this week, and let their response be evidence you can keep.