You are more than your match.

My mother-in-law has this story she tells about when she was a young wife to a young army private, recently stationed abroad. All the homesick base wives banded together and had regular play dates and dinners and outings. One of these shindigs was hosted by the wife of an uppity-up on base. After everyone arrived, she gathered the girls together and said, "Now, everyone, let's get to know each other! Go ahead and line up by rank."

At one side of the room, women loudly compared how many years their husbands had dedicated to the military, the number of bars on their uniforms, the purple hearts and awards they had received and the famous hands they'd shaken. At the other side, my mother-in-law whispered with several other wives, "my husband's only been in four months." "He hasn't been promoted yet." "I don't even know what all these ranks mean."

Eventually, they all ended up in a meandering line around the room and the hostess stepped out from her place at the head of the line. "Ladies," she said, "You don't have a rank. Your husbands, they have a job title. But that doesn't make anyone better than anybody else."

It's a big week, girls. Some of you will find out that your husband matched at his dream program, his first choice. His last choice. The place you totally forgot he interviewed at. Some of you will find out that your husband, your best friend, the smartest and hardest working guy you know, didn't match. Anywhere.

And the moral of the story here is that it doesn't really matter where you match or whether you match, whether you train at Harvard or in Hicktown, at least in terms of your intrinsic worth. You and your husband  are good people, and the world is so lucky to have you.

Best of luck, everyone.