For a long time, I looked at my life as if it were a rough draft. There were chapters I wished I could rewrite. Relationships that ended differently than I had hoped. Mistakes I replayed. Lessons I seemed determined to learn more than once. Seasons that, if given the chance, I might have quietly deleted altogether. But lately I’ve begun wondering… What if none of it needs editing? What if every awkward conversation, every broken heart, every frightening diagnosis, every wrong