You know what’s wild? Looking back at your life and realizing you lived it… but didn’t really live it to the fullest. You showed up—sure. You were present—but only halfway. Like a fly on the wall, always watching everybody else be loud, bold, and free—completely themselves—while you stayed small. Silent. Only partially you. Afraid to move too much, in case somebody noticed… you.

The truth is, you were afraid of being fully yourself. The one who made corny jokes, who was goofy at times, and who loved dancing and singing—just being you, whatever that meant. You secretly wished you didn’t care what people thought or said. But you held that part of yourself in. You convinced yourself that being quiet was enough. That if you kept your head down, nobody would call you out. Nobody would call you corny, or say you were wrong, or laugh at you. You thought maybe being shy made you safe.

So you only spoke when spoken to. You didn’t take the opportunities to show who you really were—or the gifts God gave you. You thought shrinking yourself would make you more likable. Easier to love. You only offered the pieces of you that fit neatly into other people’s comfort zones.

But that didn’t make you more loved. It made you invisible. Possibly replaceable. It made you dim your light, little by little, until it got so dim you almost forgot what it was like to shine. Until one day, you woke up and couldn’t quite remember who you were.

There wasn’t even a moment you could pinpoint. No big traumatic event that made you shrink. You just always were… like that. Quiet. Careful. Observing. Maybe it was your default. Maybe it kept you safe. And in a world that often asks girls to be softer, gentler, easier to handle—you listened. You adjusted before you even realized you were adjusting.

Now here you are. Older. Wiser. Still unpacking that silence. Still trying to figure out how to show up in rooms you’ve been in your whole life—but never fully you in. And sometimes you catch yourself wondering: What if I had spoken up more? What if I hadn’t been afraid to be seen? What friendships might’ve grown? What passions might’ve blossomed? What would people say their memories of me were, if I was no longer here?

But then you remind yourself: That version of you did what she thought was best at the time. Maybe being fully yourself would’ve brought drama you weren’t ready for. Pain you couldn’t handle. So she let pieces of the real you show up only when it felt safe. When you felt seen by the right people. When love felt certain. Maybe she kept parts of you hidden because not everyone deserved to bask in your sunlight. Not everyone was meant to hold the full version of you. And that’s okay.

And that quiet girl, that shy girl? She was never broken. That meekness, that humble spirit—that was beautiful, too. She was always worthy. Just like you are now. She wasn’t “less than” for being reserved. She wasn’t wrong for hiding you from certain parts of the world. She was strong in her own way. And she will always be worthy. Not just when she opens up. Not just when she’s trying to fit in. Even when she is silent—she is enough.

At the end of the day, isn’t she still part of you?

So feel free to be either you—you choose in the moment. No more fly on the wall. No more watching life pass like it doesn’t belong to you. No more hiding your true self.

You are enough. Loud. Soft. Awkward. Powerful. Corny. Goofy. Shy. Bright. Whole. No matter which part of you shows up, every part is worthy. Every version of you deserves to shine.

This isn’t about becoming someone new. This is about coming home to who you’ve always been. About giving that inner girl—whichever part of you—room to move again. To laugh too loudly. To cry when needed. To be okay with being goofy or corny. To speak even when your voice shakes. To take up space because you were always meant to.

You did it just the other night—dancing in your room to one of your favorite songs. You were unbothered. Letting your body move freely, singing out loud no matter the tone. For the first time in a long time, you felt free. You felt like you. You caught your reflection in the mirror and smiled. You were there. Whole. Present. Seen.

Just be you—because you are worth it. You are finally here. Not halfway. Not hidden. But the whole you. And even if it’s the quiet version one day or the bold one the next—you are still you. Still worthy. Still enough.

And to the girl who thought being quiet was the only way to be safe:
I see you.
I love you.
But it’s our turn now.

I promise to let us live out loud.

Style score 79%

Dear Love,

Our love started like a seed planted deep in the soil. The darkness surrounding that seed represented us—jumping in blindly, not truly knowing each other or ourselves. We didn’t understand our triggers, our traumas, or our insecurities. We were two different people carrying heavy pasts and unhealed wounds. A mixture of excitement and fear in our new relationship occasionally caused conflict.

But all we knew was that we saw the good in each other and felt a love worth fighting for. And somehow, that was enough to try.

As a new couple, at times we fought each other even as we fought the world. We didn’t realize we were repeating unspoken patterns or how different our perspectives of the world were. We pushed and pulled, trying to drag the other into our own world instead of learning how to build one together.

With the sun shining on us through the darkness, within the cracks in our chaos, we found peace, joy, and laughter. With every argument, we learned a little more about each other.

That gave us the opportunity to see one another for who we really are. Our guards came down, and with that, we helped each other heal. We softened the hardened places—healing the inner child within—even while standing in the storm. We learned to fix the mess amid the storm, and slowly, we grew—together, not apart.

We began showing up for each other in the ways we both needed. Where the world had hardened our hearts and spirits, we became each other’s haven. Every day, we wake up and say, “I choose you. I choose us.”

We no longer use our past against each other; we only look back to see how far we’ve come.

Just like a garden, we have tended to what we planted—our love. We pulled out the weeds—our toxic traits and immature habits—and watered the roots with patience, grace, and understanding. Day by day, we nurtured what had been broken in our relationship, allowing love to blossom.

Like a sunflower, we stretched above our struggles, always turning our faces toward the light. Like a rose, our love flourished through the seasons, growing stronger not despite the challenges but because of them. We have become strong together and we’ll remain strong, hopeful, and full of grace.

Yes, we started backwards, but God turned it into something beautiful. God put us together so that we could grow in love, be rooted in faith, and bloom into something rare and real.

Today, we are still going strong. Our separate worlds are becoming one rooted in trust, respect, and understanding. As a couple, we have learned each other’s ways and the reasons behind them. Together, we no longer play screaming tennis; we talk through our disagreements and fight only the world outside our doors, protecting what we have built and keeping it sacred.
We continue to water each other and lift each other up. We have blossomed together—and we will continue to bloom.

Forever choosing you and matching effort

—Me

style score 100%

Dear Past Me,

Look at you—trying so hard, carrying so much. I see you. I know how heavy it’s been. But I need you to know something: you don’t have to stay here.
You’ve already taken the first step toward change, and that alone is something to be proud of. Now, it’s time to let go, unlearn, and grow.
I know—it’s easier said than done. But aren’t you worth it? Aren’t you tired of feeling stuck, trapped in the same cycle, falling back into bad habits shaped by TV, music, and the world around you? And it’s not just that. Think about the habits you absorbed from your family—the ones you didn’t even realize were shaping you until you got older.
But here’s the truth: you don’t have to carry that anymore. Let go of the hurt. Let go of the regrets. Let go of the belief that you always have to be perfect. Take accountability for your life, but also give yourself grace. Do the work, not because you have to, but because you deserve to be free.
Get back to the things that bring you joy—singing, dancing, moving your body, and breathing deeply. Let your inner child run free—she’s been waiting for you. And if anyone is watching? Let them. She deserves to be seen. You deserve to be seen.
Be present. No more letting intrusive thoughts steal your joy—the day, the hour, the minute, the second. You’ve lost too much time to them already. A small inconvenience does not have the power to ruin your day unless you give it permission. Choose peace. Choose happiness. Choose yourself. But most of all, choose God—because He has already chosen you. When the weight feels too heavy, remember you don’t carry it alone. He is with you, guiding every step.
If you can’t control it, let it go. Give it to God. Release it. Lighten your load. You deserve to feel free. Your fiancé, kids, friends, family, and even that no-good job will benefit from a happier, lighter version of you. But the one who will benefit the most? You.
You only have one life to live, and God has already written a beautiful story for you. Don’t let fear or doubt keep you from stepping into it. Trust in His timing, His plan, and His love. There’s still so much left in you—especially when you get back to doing what makes you feel alive. Don’t wait until it’s too late, looking back at a life filled with “would’ve,” “should’ve,” and “could’ve.” You already have a few—you don’t need more.
So start today. Slight changes, big impact.
You don’t have to have it all figured out—just take the first step, trust God, and trust yourself. He already knows the path ahead. Surrender it all to Him, and the rest will follow.
Now is your time. You’re ready. Step into the life you were meant to live.

I love you.

Style Score86%