Letters I Never Sent | To The Woman In The Mirror
Tonight I came home tired.
The kind of tired that comes from simply being human.
I washed my face, reached for a makeup wipe, and caught my reflection.
For a moment, I expected to see the old version of myself.
The girl who masked her insecurities as conceit,
who wore pride like armor because she didn’t know what else to do.
But she wasn’t there.
In her place stood a grown woman.
Steadier. Softer.
Someone who has finally learned how to carry herself without collapsing inside.
She looked back at me and said:
“Hello, you.
Look at you now.
For choosing kindness for the sake of God.
Not for approval.
Not to be chosen.
Not to be seen.
Just because goodness feels right in your heart.
There is something you need to remember.
Forgive the girl you used to be.
She walked through things she was never prepared for.
She held emotions she didn’t have language for.
She tried to understand a world that kept giving her ultimatums.
Forgive her for the moments she panicked.
For the times she reacted out of fear instead of clarity.
For the days she pretended to be strong when she felt anything but.
She wasn’t crazy. She was learning.
And she carried you here.
So look at yourself now.
Not for your accolades.
Or for the outer beauty.
But at the heart beneath all of it.
The one that stayed sincere through every season.
The one that softened instead of hardening.
The one that chose faith over fear.
Girl, you made it.”