I never thought that the hardest part of being in a relationship would be something as simple as time. Racing has always been my world—every practice, every qualifying lap, every race. But now, there’s someone who makes me want to find time where there isn’t any.

We’d been together for a few months, and things were great. Or so I thought. Then it hit us—the first argument. She said I never had time for her, that my schedule was always too packed, and I was too focused on the track to really be present.

I get it. From her perspective, it must feel like I’m choosing racing over her. And maybe sometimes I am. But it’s not that simple. Racing is part of who I am. It’s what I’ve worked for my whole life.

Still, I hated that I was making her feel unimportant. When she said, “You don’t care about us anymore,” it hurt more than any crash ever could.

That night, after a long silence, I looked at her and said, “I might be on the track a lot, but you’re the reason I race. I’m sorry for not showing it enough. I promise I’ll find a way to balance both—because losing you would be the real crash.”