According to my mom, I might struggle to find someone who truly understands me. She never meant it as an insult, but more as an observation about my personality. “You think differently,” she’d say. “Not everyone will get you.” I always brushed it off, telling myself that when the right person came along, understanding wouldn’t be an issue—it would just happen naturally.

But as I’ve navigated relationships, I’ve realized that maybe she had a point. I’ve met people who liked me but didn’t quite see me, who appreciated certain parts of me but didn’t fully embrace the whole. I’ve been told I’m too deep, too intense, too lost in my own thoughts. Some men wanted me to be simpler, easier to figure out. Others tried to mold me into their idea of the perfect partner instead of accepting who I already was.

Still, I refuse to believe that love has to be a struggle. I don’t think I’m too much—I just think I need the right person. Someone who listens, who sees beyond the surface, who doesn’t try to change or fix me but simply gets me. I believe that when that person comes along, everything will fall into place effortlessly.

So, while my mom may have seen relationships as a challenge for me, I see them as a journey. And I’d rather wait for the right person to understand me fully than settle for someone who only sees part of who I am.