The first person I dated after my marriage ended pushed every single button my marriage had. It was about how frighteningly easy it was for me to hand my self-worth over to someone new. Somewhere along the way, I’d bought into the idea that romantic love wasn’t just one beautiful part of life; it was the point of it. I realised I’d spent my whole life measuring how loved I was by one relationship. How had I convinced myself that any of those loves counted for less simply because they weren’t romantic?