To the One I Was — and the One I’m Becoming.

I know the weight you’ve been carrying. Some of it is yours, some of it was handed to you without asking. You’ve done your best to hold it all together — even on the days when it felt like the pieces would scatter beyond reach. I see you. I honor the quiet victories no one else noticed.

There will be moments when you’ll doubt yourself, when your reflection feels like a stranger’s, when the map of your life seems written in a language you don’t understand. In those moments, remember: You are allowed to pause. You are allowed to rest. You are allowed to begin again — as many times as it takes.

You’ve been told that strength looks like never breaking. That’s not true. Real strength is in knowing when to soften, when to let tears fall, when to ask for help. You are not weak for needing others; you are human.

Some of your dreams will come true in ways you expect. Others will arrive disguised as detours, heartbreaks, or ordinary Tuesdays. Trust that nothing is wasted. Even the chapters you wish you could tear out are quietly shaping the story that only you can tell.

Please, be gentle with yourself. Speak to yourself the way you would speak to someone you love fiercely — because you are someone worth loving fiercely.

And remember: you do not have to earn your worth. You already have it.

One day, you will look back and see how far you’ve come — not in miles or accomplishments, but in how much softer your heart has become toward yourself. You’ll see that the girl who carried the weight was the same woman who learned to put some of it down.

So keep going. Keep listening for the quiet ways God whispers your name. Keep showing up for the life that is here, even as you hope for what’s ahead. You are not behind. You are not late. You are exactly where you’re meant to be in this moment.

With love,