April 15, 2019: To the girl in the mirror…
Hey you.
I know that smile.
The one that looks light and playful but feels like it’s holding something heavy underneath.
You’re trying so hard right now.
To make this life feel beautiful.
To convince yourself that if you just shift your perspective a little more, love a little harder, try a little longer… it will finally feel like home.
But it doesn’t.
And you know it doesn’t.
You’re not crazy.
You’re not ungrateful.
You’re not failing.
You’re waking up.
I wish I could sit on that tiny floor with you - the one that creaks just a little - and tell you this face to face: You are not meant to shrink your life down to fit inside someone else’s version of “good enough.”
You didn’t choose wrong.
You chose what you knew.
And when you learn better, you’re allowed to choose again.
There’s a moment coming - soon - where you’re going to realize you can’t keep pretending.
It’s going to feel like everything is breaking.
And in a way… it is.
But not in the way you’re afraid of.
What’s breaking is the version of you who thought she had to survive instead of live.
The version who believed love meant endurance instead of peace.
You’re going to question yourself.
Over and over again.
You’re going to wonder if you’re ruining everything.
You’re not.
You’re saving yourself.
And more than that - you’re showing your kids what courage actually looks like.
The road ahead?
It’s not easy.
There will be nights you cry so hard you can’t breathe.
Days where you second-guess every step.
Moments where you almost go back - not because it was good, but because it was familiar.
Stay.
Stay the course.
Because one day - not far from now - you’re going to wake up and realize something quietly, almost unexpectedly: You can breathe again.
Your home will feel like yours.
Your laughter will sound real.
Your peace won’t have conditions attached to it.
And you’ll look back at this girl - the one in the mirror, holding everything together with sheer will - and you won’t feel shame.
You’ll feel awe.
Because she was brave long before she knew she was.
So keep going.
Even when it’s messy.
Even when it’s terrifying.
There is goodness ahead.
Real goodness.
The kind you don’t have to force or fake or fight to keep.
And you will find it.
I promise.
— You, April 15, 2026
Still soft. Still strong. Finally free.