Most of us live our lives like we’re auditioning.

 

Auditioning to be loved. To be chosen. To finally feel like we’re enough.

We perform — every single day. At work. In relationships. On social media.

We do the thing, say the thing, look the part… all in hopes that someone will see us and say, “Yes. You matter.”

 

But here’s the truth most of us never learned as little girls:

You were never meant to earn love.

 

You see, as children, validation was how we knew we were safe. We needed the “good job” and the “I’m proud of you” to try new things, to believe in ourselves, to grow. But when those affirmations were only handed out when we performed a certain way — when we behaved, when we succeeded, when we stayed small and agreeable—we internalized a dangerous belief:

That love is conditional. That our worth must be proven.

 

And so we become women who are wired to please.

To overdeliver.

To overfunction.

To smile through the burnout and still say “yes,” even when our bodies scream “no.”

 

We shape our lives, our friendships, and our careers to chase the next dose of validation — because our nervous systems have been trained to believe that worth comes from applause.

 

We don’t call it what it is.

We say we’re “ambitious.” We say we’re “driven.”

But underneath the curated success is a little girl still wondering if she’s done enough to be loved today.

 

And then we wonder why we feel empty.

Why relationships feel like a one-way street.

Why the recognition never truly fills us.

Why we’re stuck in toxic dynamics that give us just enough approval to keep us chasing, but never enough to feel secure.

 

Because external validation is a sugar high. It tastes sweet, but it never nourishes.

It’s just enough to keep you dependent.

Just enough to keep you doubting yourself.

 

But here’s what no one told you:

You get to stop running.

You get to pause.

You get to come home to yourself.

 

The antidote to all this performance is presence.

It’s reparenting the part of you that was taught to hustle for love.

It’s saying to yourself, every single day:

“I am enough — without the achievement, without the approval, without the applause.”

 

This isn’t about giving up on excellence.

It’s about no longer abandoning yourself to earn it.

 

The moment you stop performing for love and start embodying it, everything shifts.

You stop trying to be chosen and start choosing yourself.

And in that moment — you become free.

 

Because love was never a reward.

It was always your birthright.

 

Yours in grace,

 

Ava