
I grew up believing finding a partner was the key to a complete, successful life. But when that promise fails, we’re left with a harder truth: we can’t control whether we find “the right partner,” and this belief surrenders our agency. The real issue of the happiest ending is not finding someone—it’s shaping life to feel the way we truly want.
I chased the idea of romantic salvation so far that I wrote a book about it. Believing someone else completes you is a battle you lose. Completion can’t come from outside ourselves.
Building identity is a lifelong process, evolving long after our brains mature in our mid-twenties. As life challenges us, our sense of self is tested and reshaped. If we don’t build a self that stands alone, we end up chasing completion through others and letting old stories control us. The goal is to be whole on our own.
Because relational abuse cast long shadows over my life, I discovered that replacing loneliness with freedom is and was my key need for that happy ending, but on my terms.
As I wrote in my book Brick by Brick:
“To become the mother my daughter deserved, I had to say the words of separation again. It was the hardest thing I’d faced. A little person was looking to me for stability, and I was truly alone. It was time to heal, stay present with the pain, and raise our daughter. I let old pain soften into something closer to unconditional self-love as I walked forward, owning my story.”
By facing my fear of being alone—and reframing it as freedom—I learned to make life meaningful, with all the grief, joy, and laughter I share with myself and my loved ones. It isn’t always easy. But having a solid sense of self lets me face any storm. That’s why freedom, not finding the right partner, matters most. If a partner arrives, then it’s for the right reasons.
Anna Hertel is the author of Brick by Brick: A Memoir of Endurance, Healing, and Becoming, as
well as a retired endurance athlete and therapist-in-training whose work explores the
intersection of trauma, identity, and the healing potential of embodied experience. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her young daughter, where she continues to rebuild, reflect, and write, brick by brick.





