A Letter to Myself

To the woman I was—thank you.

You didn’t deserve half of what you went through. You shouldn’t have had to carry things that were never meant to be yours. You shouldn’t have had to prove your worth in rooms that never saw you, love people who didn’t know how to love you back, or shrink yourself just to keep the peace.

You shouldn’t have had to survive that.

But somehow, you did.

You woke up every day and faced life even when it felt impossible. You found joy in places where joy barely existed. You loved, even when you weren’t loved properly. You held onto hope, even when life gave you every reason not to.

You thought you had to be strong, that you had to carry it all. That softness was something to earn, not something you were already worthy of. But you didn’t have to fight so hard to be seen, to be loved, to be enough. You always were. You always have been.

I love you for surviving. I love you for never giving up on me. And I wish I could go back and tell you, you are allowed to rest. You are allowed to put it down. You are allowed to just be.

You didn’t have to become hard to make it through. And now? Now you get to be soft.

To the woman I am—keep going.

I don’t want to rush through life so fast that I miss you. I don’t want to be so focused on what’s next that I forget to honor what’s here.

You are standing in moments that younger you would have never believed possible. You are experiencing things she didn’t even know how to pray for. And even though you don’t always see it, even though there are still days filled with doubt, I need you to know—you are becoming someone worth being proud of.

You have given yourself permission to slow down. To trust. To breathe. And I hope you keep doing that. I hope you keep choosing yourself, over and over again, the way past you never knew she could.

You are worthy of a life that feels good to wake up to. You are allowed to move through this season with softness, with joy, with peace.

One day, we will look back on this moment, and I don’t want to remember a woman who was always waiting for the next chapter—I want to remember a woman who was fully present in her own story.

So today, I choose to be here. With you. In this moment. Because I already know—it’s all going to work out.

To the woman I am becoming—I trust you.

I don’t know what life looks like for you yet, but I know you are walking into rooms with confidence I am still learning to build. I know you are resting in a way I am still learning to allow. I know you are standing taller, speaking louder, taking up space without question, without hesitation.

I can’t wait to meet you.

And I promise, I’m doing everything I can to make sure you have everything you need when you get there.

You are going to be so proud of me.

And I already know—I’m so proud of you.

Your Turn: If you haven’t written your letter yet, take a moment. Sit with yourself. Honor your journey. If you feel called, share a piece of it in the comments or tag me with #ADoseOfReflection so we can celebrate our growth together.

Every version of you deserves love. Every version of you is worth celebrating.🤍