Dear Me,

I know you’re tired.

Not just the kind of tired that sleep fixes ~

but the kind of tired that comes from trying so hard

to hold everything together while pretending like nothing’s falling apart.

You’ve been strong in silence.

You’ve smiled through discomfort.

You’ve stayed present even when you wanted to disappear.

But today, I need you to hear this:

You are not too much.

You are not lazy.

You are not a burden.

You are a woman trying to bloom in a place she doesn’t recognize,

while her roots feel torn out from the ground.

And still ~ you rise.

Even in the ache. Even in the doubt.

So breathe, baby.

Let it be okay to not have it all figured out right now.

Let it be okay to feel. To grieve. To need.

You’re allowed to be held too ~not just the one holding it all together.

Love,

You