My son went to his school dance recently.
No girlfriend.
No elaborate plans.
No concern whatsoever about any of it.
Meanwhile, I found myself wondering:
Is he a late bloomer?
And then I immediately caught myself.
Because he’s eleven.
Yet somehow, despite spending my days helping people untangle expectations, I was already measuring him against an invisible timeline.
It made me realize how quickly we do this—not just with our kids, but with ourselves.
We all carry unspoken timelines for how life is supposed to unfold.
By a certain age, we should have found our person.
By a certain point after a breakup, we should be over it.
After enough therapy, we should be healed.
After enough time alone, we should be ready to date again.
And when reality doesn’t match the schedule we’ve created in our heads, we start to wonder if something is wrong.
We wonder if we’re behind.
I see this all the time in my work.
Someone gets divorced in their forties and feels like everyone else has already figured out love.
Someone else is still grieving a relationship years later and feels embarrassed that they’re not “over it” yet.
A single parent worries they’ve missed their chance to find a healthy relationship.
Someone who has spent years working on themselves starts comparing their progress to people who seem to have effortlessly found happiness.
Different stories. Same fear.
I should be further along by now.
The problem is that relationship timelines are largely made up.
We compare our lives to milestones inherited from family, culture, social media, and peers.
We see someone getting married, moving in together, finding love after divorce, or posting what looks like a perfect relationship—and assume we’re supposed to be somewhere similar.
But relationships don’t unfold according to a universal schedule.
Some people meet the love of their life at twenty-five.
Others meet them at fifty-five.
Some people recover from heartbreak quickly.
Others need years to fully process what happened.
Some people find clarity after one relationship.
Others need several experiences before they understand what they need and deserve.
None of that means anyone is ahead or behind.
It simply means they’re living their own story.
That’s what struck me as I watched my son get ready for the dance.
He wasn’t worried about where he stood compared to anyone else.
He wasn’t wondering whether he should have a girlfriend by now.
He wasn’t calculating milestones.
He was just excited to go.
Somewhere along the way, many of us lose that ability.
We stop experiencing our lives and start evaluating them.
We look around.
We compare.
We calculate.
We question whether we’re on track.
And in doing so, we miss what’s actually happening right in front of us.
The irony is that comparison rarely motivates us the way we think it will.
More often, it steals joy from the chapter we’re currently living.
Instead of appreciating how far we’ve come, we focus on where we think we should be.
Instead of noticing what’s growing, we focus on what’s missing.
Instead of trusting our own pace, we become preoccupied with everyone else’s.
The truth is:
Life isn’t a race.
Relationships aren’t either.
There is no prize for getting somewhere first.
No trophy for healing the fastest.
No universal clock for love, growth, or happiness.
So if you’ve been feeling behind lately, consider this your reminder:
You don’t need to catch up.
You don’t need to rush.
You don’t need to compare your timeline to someone else’s.
You just need to keep showing up for your own life.
Because chances are, you’re not behind at all.
You’re exactly where your story is unfolding.
To Your Thriving Relationship,
April
