Daisy Jones & The Six

by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Men often think they deserve a sticker for treating women like people.

I think you have to have faith in people before they earn it. Otherwise it’s not faith, right?

I used to think soul mates were two of the same. I used to think I was supposed to look for somebody that was just like me.

The thing is, I’m a person who survives despite his instincts. My instincts said to run toward the chaos. And my better brain sent me home to my woman.

That’s the problem with people who don’t have to work for things. They don’t know how to work for things.

Confidence is being okay being bad, not being okay being good.

But loving somebody isn’t perfection and good times and laughing and making love. Love is forgiveness and patience and faith and every once in a while, it’s a gut punch. That’s why it’s a dangerous thing, when you go loving the wrong person. When you love somebody who doesn’t deserve it. You have to be with someone that deserves your faith and you have to be deserving of someone else’s. It’s sacred.

But I just kept choosing trust and hope. I believed he was worthy of it.

You can’t control another person. It doesn’t matter how much you love them. You can’t love someone back to health and you can’t hate someone back to health and no matter how right you are about something, it doesn’t mean they will change their mind.

“A part of me wishes you wanted kids, because my kids make me so happy. But…I think in order to be happy like I’m happy, you need different things. And I want you to have whatever those things are.”

All I will say is that you show up for your friends on their hardest days. And you hold their hand through the roughest parts. Life is about who is holding your hand and, I think, whose hand you commit to holding.

But do you know what I decided a long time ago? I decided I don’t need perfect love and I don’t need a perfect husband and I don’t need perfect kids and a perfect life and all that. I want mine. I want my love, my husband, my kids, my life.

You’re all sorts of things you don’t even know yet.”

Your life isn’t about me, honey, my life is about you.

There are so very many ways to be in this world and sometimes I think I’m writing just so I can show you some of them.

We cannot trust the Daisy Jones of today to remember what she said and did in 1978. We can only listen to the story she’s been telling herself about it for the past forty years. And I’ve found that’s the more interesting story—the stories people tell themselves about themselves. It