It started with a pair of cowboy boots. Cracked leather, scuffed toes, and a hint of Idaho dust embedded in their soles. Not the symbol of romance you were expecting? Fair. But these boots were mine—bought for myself after a breakup and worn faithfully as I pulled my world back together. They became the armor for a battle I fought in secret against my biggest relationship obstacle: myself.

If you’d met me then, you wouldn’t have guessed I was struggling. By all external measures, I was doing fine. I had a job I cared about, friends who loved me, and a bookshelf that leaned slightly under the weight of novels I swore I’d finish someday. Still, beneath the surface, I was grappling with a relationship story I’d been too afraid to revise: one where my worth was tied to my ability to make someone else happy. Sound familiar? If so, lace up, because this story ends with a win—and some lessons for your journey too.

The Plot Twist No One Saw Coming

Here’s the thing about emotional battles: you rarely know they’re coming. One day, you’re floating along, humming optimistic Disney tunes about love, and the next day, you’re staring into your morning coffee as if it holds the answers to why you’re still single. (Spoiler: coffee knows nothing except how to make you jittery at the worst moments.)

For me, the wake-up call came after I pushed through one too many breakups where I dimmed my light to keep someone else comfortable. I’d slipped into the role of the “easy-going girl,” the one who never wanted too much or ruffled any feathers. And while that might sound chill (the anti-drama girlfriend!) it came with a cost: my own voice buried under layers of compromise. I wasn’t being rejected—I was rejecting myself.

If this hits a nerve, you’re not alone. Our most challenging battles are often fought out of sight, where no one sees us wrestling with insecurities plastered like sticky notes onto the walls of our hearts. Mine said things like “Don’t be too much” and “You’re probably the real problem.”

Here’s the truth I learned: Nothing good grows from that soil. Love can’t take root when self-love is nowhere to be found.

Training for a New Kind of Marathon (Minus the Actual Running)

So, I made a decision. Not a grand, fireworks-in-the-background kind of decision, but a quiet, deliberate one: I was going to find out what my own happiness looked like, without pinning it to anyone else’s approval. It felt both exhilarating and utterly terrifying, like stepping onto a paddleboard when you’ve got the balance of a baby deer. But hey, shaky legs are still progress.

First, I started saying “yes” to myself more often.

  • Yes to solo sunsets by the lake. I’d grab my thermos of chamomile tea and claim a front-row seat to nature’s best drama.
  • Yes to awkward silence. Instead of filling every lonely moment with Netflix or scrolling, I let myself feel the uneasiness and wondered what it had to teach me.
  • Yes to therapy, journaling, and asking hard questions. Like, “What am I pretending not to know about how I treat myself?”

Each small yes was like adding a chapter to the book of ‘Avery Actually Cares About Herself,’ a bestseller I wish I’d started writing years earlier.

How Cowboy Boots Came to the Rescue

When you shift your focus inward, even small physical routines take on new significance—enter the cowboy boots.

I started wearing them on trails I’d never hiked, in cafés where I ordered desserts I didn’t split, and even to karaoke nights where I unapologetically butchered Fleetwood Mac songs. For me, these boots symbolized saying, “Screw it, I’m showing up for myself,” even when it wasn’t easy. Our version of armor doesn’t have to be flashy. Sometimes it’s just something that makes you feel steady and a little badass—boots, red lipstick, your lucky jacket. Whatever works.

Lessons from the Battlefield

What I didn’t expect was how this battle for myself would quietly reshape how I connected with others. My next relationship wasn’t about filling cracks but about walking alongside someone from a place of strength.

Here are a few practical, battle-tested strategies if you, too, are stitching yourself back together post-heartache:

  1. Define “enough” for yourself. This means knowing what you want in relationships without adjusting it out of fear of losing someone. Loving a quiet Saturday morning? Loving the outdoors? Lean into knowing you’re enough with or without a partner sharing those things.

  2. Get comfortable with boundaries. Whether it’s declining a last-minute date plan or asking for more, boundaries will make your relationships sharper and healthier. Think of them as your emotional fences—they keep out the wildlife that shouldn’t wander in.

  3. Find your thing. Boots were my thing, but maybe you’re more of a denim jacket, handwritten poetry, or roller-skates-on-a-rainy-day kind of person. Find it, wear it, do it. Bonus points for anything that makes you feel grounded.

  4. Be brave, even when it’s awkward. Radical honesty—whether with yourself or others—gets easier with practice. (True story: My first attempt ended with me blurting, “I’m working on trusting myself!” during a perfectly casual grocery run. Grace, not perfection, is the goal.)

A Closing Note for Anyone Fighting Their Own Secret Battles

It’s been years since I first wore those cowboy boots, and though they’ve been retired to the back of my closet (because now they squeak in less-than-sexy ways), their story lingers. They remind me that the relationship I was always searching for wasn’t “out there” in someone else—it was home.

So, here’s your nudge: Whatever your relationship battle looks like, whatever your doubts tell you in the middle of the night, there’s a way through. It’s not always pretty, it’s rarely linear, and yes, it sometimes requires therapy tears or dancing alone to 2000s throwbacks—but I promise it’s worth it. Take it from a girl who once fought her battles quietly on forest trails: you’re stronger than you think. And when you least expect it, healing will slip in, fit perfectly, and walk beside you like an old, trusty pair of boots.

Go fight for you. Your worth has been inside you all along.