Thank you, for holding on for so many years. Suffering… and not letting it show; Head in the clouds, as they drenched you with tears, Shivering with nowhere to go.
Thank you, for all of the laughs when you wanted to cry, Thank you for all of the living when you wanted to die; Through all of your falls and all of your climbs, for being yourself although you were odd.
Thanks for swallowing pride, all those nights you were hungry, staying to yourself all those days you were lonely; Giving your last when you had nothing to give and always giving back all the times that you did!!!
For just being awesome when you felt you were not, spreading the love when your loved ones forgot; Thank you for not drinking till we were no more, walking away from addiction and shutting the door.
“THANK ME?”
I would ask, Because if I remember this right, YOU were there with me, in the cold in the heat of the night.
Your the reason that I hoped, the reason I write, the reason I am whole, the reason I smile.
THANK YOU for never leaving like EVERYBODY, THANK YOU FATHER GOD, THANK YOU JESUS CHRIST. THANK YOU

In my reflection is:
A story of resiliency,
The secure embrace of gratitude,
A symbol of hope.

In my eyes, I see:
Scars that have faded,
An eager, childlike whimsy,
The anticipation of the future.

On my face are:
Lessons learned,
A sigh of relief,
A loving promise to myself.

I lift my hand.
The woman looking back at me
Does the same.
We touch.

“Thank you.”

A Little Thanks in a Big Way

Little did I know,
While standing so tall,
I wasn’t truly doing
Much growing at all.

A mask tied so tight,
Even I couldn’t see—
My entire existence,
Was I living as me?

Doing my best
In the worst kinds of ways,
Tripping through life
In a self-doubting haze.

Always honest and kind,
But maybe too much.
Giving away all my
Love, time, and trust.

I spent my life chasing,
But led it with fear.
Hoping to catch what,
Year after year?

I’d jump both feet in,
Give it all that I’ve got,
But jump both feet out,
When it started to get hot.

Then I’d lay myself down
To provide a dry spot—
Not for me, but for others,
My own needs soon forgot.

A house neat and tidy,
But don’t look under the rug—
That’s where I swept all,
When it started to tug.

The grief, pain, and heartbreak,
A lump you could see,
Under a rug that
Essentially, represents me.

Never facing my fears,
My doubts, or my struggles.
Never knowing one day,
It would all over-bubble.

Holding tight onto things
That weren’t meant to be held,
I dropped the one thing
And I watched as it fell.

Most important to grip
With a bubbling pot,
Pausing to be grateful
For all that I’ve got.

When all hope was lost,
I took a second to see,
The power of pausing,
And being grateful for me.

For the feet that keep moving
Day after day.
Rarely stopping to rest,
Yet never complain.

For the heart that beats on
When love’s ripped away,
For the love that it felt,
No matter the stay.

Thank you to this body,
That carried my child,
To say he’s my world,
Is putting it mild.

Thank you for the empathy
I feel in my soul,
Without it I don’t think
I’d ever feel whole.

Thank you for the courage
That’s taken over the fear.
I’ll now stand and face it,
And I won’t shed a tear.

I’m thankful for my thoughts,
So deep and bold,
Living life in a box
must surely get old.

Thank you for putting in
All your hard work,
When I better myself
I live with the perks.

For my hands that can hold
So many things—
My child, my paintbrush,
And family rings.

They never cease to amaze
What they’re capable of,
Building my dreams—
A true gift from above.

I’m grateful for my mind
That powers it all,
That tells me to rise
With each stumble and fall.

A mind so creative,
Yet chaotic inside,
Thank you for the crazy
Ideas that reside.

Thank you for your talents,
Though ignored far too long.
Now we’ve embrace them,
They keep growing strong.

When I start to feel sad,
And life feels upside-down,
I know the act of gratitude,
Can be truly profound.

So Thank you to my eyes,
That finally came to see,
The main thing in my way,
Has been me not loving me.

I started truly thanking me,
Once or twice a day.
As I kept on doing this,
My sadness began to fade.

Now my everday routine,
Each morning when I wake,
Is to take a quiet moment,
To Breath and to give thanks.

Through gratitude and kindness,
I’ve found the love I need,
To live this life authentically,
To live this life as me.

I see you.
The way you push yourself to be better every day—that MEANS something.
I’m proud of you.
You work hard to improve the lives of those around you.
I forgive you.
For not performing as well as you wanted. For not reading minds. For not exceeding your expectations.
I adore you exactly as you are.
And I thank you.
Thank you for eating meals and taking your vitamins. Thank you for putting down the knife and calling a friend when you needed help. Thank you for going to work every day even when you’re tired. Thank you for doing the dishes and the laundry, even though you really hate it. Thank you for going to church to sharpen your spirit. Thank you for everything you do every single day to keep yourself alive. None of it is in vain. You are so valuable.

My dearest self,

Thank you. I don’t say that to you enough, but truly, thank you. It may be difficult to admit, but you’re one of the strongest people I know.

You have gone through things that no one should ever have to go through. Those things hardened you…but they also softened you. They made you who you were meant to be-a resilient, vibrant, passionate woman who does what feels right for her at every turn, and doesn’t allow others to dictate any part of her life. A woman who thinks and feels deeply, strives for beauty and authenticity, and gives what she can when she can. I’m proud of this woman. She belongs.

The thick layer of hardness that covers you and protects you goes down so deep it’s scraping your bones. Some perceive this as you being uncaring, rude, or standoffish. But you know yourself- you know that the true issue is that you care about everything too much. So much that it hurts you, often. And that hurt has accumulated over the years into this hardened exterior. You’re tough. You can handle yourself. You’re sturdy on your own two feet and you’re not scared to face whatever those feet lead you to.

Those who appreciate your exterior also recognize your interior. Squeezed beneath the bones into the very core of you is a distinct softness- a softness that helps you to understand things, helps you to help others, and helps you to be the very best version of yourself. This is the part of you that cares so deeply about things that you can physically feel it-a palpable ache radiating from your core.

The exterior protects and analyzes while the interior feels and guides. A perfectly balanced set. Together, they make you flexible. Pliable. Adaptable. Durable. You’re built to last, endure, survive, and thrive.

While you always survive, you don’t always thrive-at least, it doesn’t always seem like it. And that’s okay-that’s how life is set up for us. But truly, deep down, even when it doesn’t feel like you’re thriving, you are. Simply by persevering and pushing through the bullshit, you are thriving. Simply by allowing yourself to still be vulnerable when it matters, with the people who it matters with, despite the accumulated hurt, you’re thriving. You have created a life for yourself where it’s okay to just exist. To just be you. A life where you don’t always need to look over your shoulder. Where it’s okay to relax and live moment by moment. It took a long time to get to this life, but you did it. So again, for this beautiful life, thank you.
You must be exhausted; it’s okay to rest now. You’re going to be just fine.

Love,

A thank you note
I’m writing a thank you note to myself. I’ve been through a lot this year. So saying, “Thank You!” feels like an uplifting thing to do.

Dearest Danielle,

Prioritizing yourself has been your mission. Self-care has certianly kicked your butt. I never knew how hard it was to actually care for a human being, especially these girls, the girl you used to be and the one you’re becoming.

Remember that girl?

The girl who was afraid of her own shaddow. The girl who was as uncertain of the wind changing as sensing her own needs. She second guessed everything that she did. She worried constantly about the state of her relationship, as if it was the state of planet earth. She would wonder what was wrong with her for having these demons. The questions about the next right thing haunted her. They caused her to doubt whether her choices were good enough, whether she was good enough. Was she enough? Well, was she?

She was the girl who got stuck in the quicksand of her own mind. Getting sucked down into the abyss of sticky judgments and exaggerated retellings of the day’s events. Down there, she tried to calculate just how it was that everyone else seemed to do it all and so much more smoothly than her. How in the world did they not drown in furious scrolling, intense games, or anesthetize themselves with a screen just to take the edge off? She watched them float through the world without lead balloons to pull them back to reality. And she envied them. The people who could bob on the surface of their lives without getting trapped in the undercurrent.

Somehow through all of your efforts, dear Danielle, you’ve yanked this girl out of the hole she had dug for herself. You forced her to change not only by waking her up from the trance of crisis mode, but resetting her operational state.

How’d you do it? What is your secret?

I’m not altogether sure of the recipe that encapsulates all of the actions that I took to get me from where I was in the spring to where I sit now. I don’t know measurements, or the ammount of intention over action. But what I can do is give an ingredient list.

Self-Care Bootcamp for the Suicidal, Overly Anxious ADHD girl

1. Kindness. Gentleness. Ease.

For all of what you’re about to do, you are going to be so overly judgemental, furious at yourself, and doubting every single move you make. The cure is the anthesis of the poision. Treating yourself with gentleness, proceeding with a easy pace, and holding kindness for yourself in your heart.

Yeah, it’s tough. I didn’t say this was easy or that it would go down smoothly. Taking real good care ain’t either of those things.

2. Feed yourself.

Meaning you need to make full meals for yourself at least three times a day. (And for you, that means two snacks in between. And no coffee does NOT count). That includes taking the time to boil, bake, prepare, warm, or microwave your food.

Taking care means caring for the things you put in your body. And yes this takes time. Self-care is an investment you make in yourself, and that includes the resource of time, not just money.

3. Go on a walk.

This is fairly self-explanatory. But somehow the pathway from my apartment door becomes blocked by a domineering invisible force pulling me back to my comfy spot on
the couch.

Going outside takes reason, a spark, a force that pushes you from stillness into motion.

The cure of fresh air, sunlight, the shade of trees, birdsong, as well as people and pets along the way makes you feel like you are a part of the world. The real one, and not just the one in you tell yourself about in your endless self-narrating monologue.

4. Make time for friends

They will remind you of who you really are. The confident, silly, expressive soul that lay dormant for too long. Their words of encouragement, their solidarity, their company, and their spirit of congeniality smooths your ripples of doubt.

Remind yourself that they really do care about you. Sometimes it’s easy to forget, and it’s ok to ask for what you need, even if it’s just a reminder of how worthy you are of their friendship.

5. Time.

Nothing meaningful changes immediately. Here’s the biggest investment you will ever make in yourself. Moments, minutes, hours, days, weeks, years; every millisecond of one breath adds up like pennies in a piggy bank.

You empty yourself out for your job, your relationships, for your projects; now is time to refill and heal the wounds that the world inevitably causes. Whether that’s therapy, support groups, deep conversations with friends, journaling, saying “No”, saying “YES!”, singing, crying, punching something, having a conversation with someone who hurt you, setting a boundary, reminding yourself that you’re human and it’s ok to make mistakes, apologizing, asking for an apology, and intentionally not appologizing.

All of the above take the investment of time, practice, and prioritization. None of these are easy things, and there’s no one right path. Trusting that inner voice is key. Returning to your body long enough to know what it needs takes consistency.

6. Rest

Stop. All of it. Shut it down! Turn it off.

You don’t need to show up for the thing after you stopped for long enough to realize you’re tired and would rather stay home.
Just like the great Courtney Barnet sings, “You don’t have to go to the party.” Just because someone expects you to make an appearance, you’re the one you have to answer to in the morning. The expectations of others is an invisible cage. Just unlock that door and you’ll see how little sense staying in there makes.

I realize I’ve gotten this far in my letter without thanking myself. That’s what this is supposed to be; a letter of sincere gratitude.

What I am truly humbled by, besides doing those 6 things, is making one great act of forgiveness. I forgave myself. I have forgiven myself for the time that I took to heal.

And that is big. I felt so much relief when I reached that space where I could release the guilt, shame, and anger I held towards myself. All of that was self-imposed but nothing that I need to own.

I have released that lead balloon and now can rise a little higher.

Thank you, Danielle, for taking care of yourself. It has made the joy I’ve felt these last weeks possible.

Here’s to moving onwards and upwards.

Robin,

I know you don’t hear it often, but I want to thank you for returning to your passion for writing, decades after your last creative piece. With encouragement from your writer friends, writing workshops, and positive feedback, you found your groove and your purpose. You are creating with empathy, sharing your words with isolated seniors and searching for other opportunities to use your words to help others feel seen and heard. But sometimes you take too much on and put pressure on yourself to create. So I wrote this poem for us.

I want to caress
My hand on your face
Rest your head
My touch is your pillow
Comforting

You have a lot on your mind
Place them in my palm
For now
And I’ll toss them into the ocean
For now

Serene slumber is what you need
A pause and quiet thoughts to ease
I’ll watch over you while you’re sleeping
And keep you safe

Thank you again for finding a place for your words that hopefully make a difference in the world for the better. Keep going, but remember to take time for yourself too. I love you.

With Appreciation,

Thank you for walking away
The marriage was dead
Just four years wed, so
Thank you for walking away

The heartache immense
The vows a pretense, so
Thank you for walking away

Just one year in
He chose to betray, so
Thank you for walking away

Something just wasn’t right
I felt foul play, so
Thank you for walking away

Confrontation conversation
The word of the day was downplay, so
Thank you for walking away

The dream awoke
the truth bespoke, so
Thank you for walking away

He disagreed, I tried to plead
trying to leave he blocked the doorway, so
Thank you for walking away

Surprise overtook, when leaving forsook
Thursday my last day, so
thank you for walking away

Life has been complicated ,complex and a Joy.
It seems like death has always been part of my journey
I only knew one of my grandparents. My Mom’s Dad died the year I was born.
My Dads parents were already deceased.
It was a good childhood until my Dad died in 1968, three days after Christmas.
As Langston Hughes said as a family we kept “climbin…”
Mom was our Angel she kept us “climbin”, growing ,showing love and compassion.
Through juvenile delinquency, drug addiction, single motherhood ,financial crisis and anxieties.
Mom use to always say when times are hard remember your pass victories.
Times when you didn’t know how you would make it but you did!
Life lifed and I’m still present, standing and struggling because of Grace and Mercy!
I have faith and confidence in the assignment that’s still unfolding.
Looking forward to living in Retirement & what 2025 will bring.

Amen.

These last few years have taken a toll on you mentally and physically, but I am proud you didn’t give up on yourself like others did. Even though you questioned your sanity at times, you prevailed and paved a path through mucker and mud. Even in the darkest hour of contemplating your life, a voice said no – you need not do this; you need to take care of yourself, and I will guide you. Your voice was silenced for a moment, your pen stopped writing, and songs no longer came to you, but somehow, you found it all again. Through the tears, the heartache, and the pain, you managed to press through and reinvent yourself. You discovered that you were stronger than you ever knew. You learned that one person’s rejection of you is another’s prize and value. You learned that you are not alone if you open your mouth and share. Because others are struggling too, I like that you declared this summer the summer of “me” to get your mental and physical self back. You lost 15 lbs, finally went to therapy, and found that being selfish about you is okay.

Dear Younger Me,

Yes, it is me, or you, the older model. I know this is weird and has a “Back to the Future” vibe, but it is me, older me, or you. I have been pondering lately, for a few years, about the past, my journey, and how I got here. I look back and see how I grew, stumbled, got up, and not only survived but thrived my way through. While my life may not seem spectacular it has been a journey worthy of appreciation and thanks. That’s why I am writing this, to tell you Thank you!

Thank you younger me for not giving up when life threw you unexpected chaos and trials. Thank you for learning to evolve as life changed for you, you changed, and you helped others change. Thanks for never stopping to look for answers even when there seemed to be none. Thank you for keeping the faith, for building on the rock, for believing God had you and never left you alone, He didn’t, and He still carries you.

Thank you for not settling for the abuse, for the obstacles that appeared to be insurmountable. Thanks for not ever buying into the idea that you “could not” and fought to be and do. Thank you for being strong enough, and for fighting to make things right. And especially Thank you for not lowering to the level others play from.

Thank you for listening to your grandfathers, grandmothers, and Mom and Dad. Thank you for holding on to their advice, stories, and the faith they helped you to build. The morality and the inspiration that those who raised you shared with you helped build you. You may not understand it yet, but you will. You grew up in the best time, maybe the last of the best times. Savor the time you have, things change later. You will be okay, just enjoy the journey.

I am older now than I ever imagined being, you never really think about age the way it comes. Some days I sit and wonder how I got this old, and how and when the time slipped by. I would love to tell you that I am older and wiser, but I feel like I am older and more learned. Ahhhh… the things you will learn, the epiphanies, and sudden realizations will be sprinkled throughout life as you grow. At this stage of our life, I often feel at times as if I have lived too long, life has become surreal at times. But your foundation is strong. Thank you for that, for believing, for trying, for giving yourself grace and mercy.

I just wanted to say Thank you for it all. You will feel as if you can’t go on, but you will not falter in the end. You will keep going, you will hear your Daddy in your head and heart… “You can’t stop, you have to keep moving and work through it,” is sage advice for sure. You will see the wisdom in things as you pass through life, it may not seem like it but you will. Life at his stage is still full of surprises and realizations that come with a need to evolve, accept, and find the path forward again. But you younger me, you built a foundation on the rock, you evolved through life fearlessly it seemed. I know there were so many times when fear and anxiety tried to steal your power, your ability, and your drive. Thank you for never giving up. I don’t want to spoil things for you, just know that whatever comes, you will survive it.

Again, thank you younger me, You are amazing… Keep going.
There is so much ahead of you, I look back and smile more often than not now. It all works out, so far anyway, just keep going…

Older Me/You

Dear Me,
Today, I pause in the stillness of my existence to pen a letter not to the world, not to its chaos, its demands, or its endless expectations, but to you. To the one who has carried me through every triumph and trial, every joy and sorrow—myself.
Thank you for every breath you’ve taken when life felt suffocating. For each moment you chose to inhale hope and exhale despair. You have been my anchor in the storm, standing firm when the waves of doubt and fear threatened to sweep us away. You are the lighthouse guiding me back to shores I forgot existed, reminding me that home is not a place, but the most sacred temple within.
Thank you for your resilience, that quiet, unyielding strength that whispers, “Keep going.” For the way, you’ve stitched together broken pieces of our heart, over and over, with threads of courage and self-compassion even when our hands shook with weakness. You have faced the darkest of nights, knowing that the dawn would come—even when you couldn’t see its light.
Thank you for choosing growth over comfort, even when it hurt. For diving into the depths of your soul to unearth truths buried beneath pain and shame. You’ve embraced the messy, the imperfect, and the flawed parts of yourself, not as weaknesses, but as reminders of your humanity.
Thank you for the love you’ve given, to yourself and others. For the way you’ve learned to hold your own hand when no one else could. For the nights you cradled yourself in arms of forgiveness, rocking gently in the rhythm of grace. For the boundaries you’ve set, the “no” that meant protecting your peace, and the “yes” that opened the doors to possibilities you once thought impossible.
Thank you for every risk you’ve taken, for every dream you’ve dared to dream aloud. For every time you’ve leaped, not knowing if the net would appear, trusting that your wings would learn to fly on the way down. You are a testament to bravery—bold, unapologetic, and relentless.
Thank you for the softness you’ve allowed yourself to feel. For crying when the world told you to be strong. For laughing even when the weight of the day felt like too much. For seeing beauty in the ordinary, in a sunrise, a song, a small act of kindness. You have taught me that life is a mosaic of these tender moments, and they are worth cherishing.
Thank you for forgiving yourself—for the mistakes, the missteps, the times you didn’t know better. You have shown me that perfection is a myth and that every stumble is a lesson, every fall a chance to rise anew.
Thank you for believing in yourself when others doubted you. For holding onto the vision of who you are becoming, even when the road is unclear. You are the architect of a future that shines brighter because you dared to lay the foundation today.
Most of all, thank you for choosing to love me—the real, unfiltered me. In a world that tries to shape us into what it wants, you have fought to remain authentic, to honor your truth, and to celebrate your essence.
You are my hero, my safe space, my greatest companion. Together, we have survived, thrived, and become a story worth telling. And while the journey ahead may still hold challenges, I know now that with you by my side, there is nothing we cannot face.
So here’s to you, to us—to the warrior, the dreamer, the healer, the creator. I love you. I am proud of you. I am grateful for you.
With infinite admiration,
Me

I Hear Them Singing
by Olivia Colette Lee

The friends I love
I carry in my heart
As a piece of me
I’m grateful
as a locket that’ll never fall off its chain.

The leaves of the fall….
the number of my friends
I hear them singing
beautiful as an empty vase with wind inside
You make me feel loved
calm
The leave on my ear
I hear them singing
The friend I love in my life
I am grateful
Singing I my ears as the leaves of the fall
They will always be in my life.

I hear them singing.
I hear them singing….

Thank you for showing up here
Thank you for the laughter, pain, frustration, love, and joy that formed every tear
Thank you for continuing to fight when you really wanted to give up wallowing in fear
Thank you for releasing the trauma
Thank you for no longer ruminating in your own drama
Thank you for the courage you stand every time you write and speak
Thank you not abandoning me in the valley and carrying me to the peak
Thank you for allowing ease, nurture and care for your entire being
Thank you trusting your partner instead of fleeing
Look at that you’re thriving and married now
When years ago you didn’t think you were worthy of a vow
But you trusted in divinity when you couldn’t see where, what or how
I admire how brave and resilient you are
The power in your creativity makes you a star
Even through years of feeling invisible, unworthy while isolating in shame
You learned through your own healing that you gain nothing when you blame
So cheers to living in your truth, slightly chaotic and delightfully untamed

Reaching back
To hold your hand
Realizing
you’ve always been there
Waiting
to be everything to me

Now your laugh echos
Reminding me of joy
Your wonder persists
Reminding me to dream
Your sweetness permeates
Reminding me to love
And your courage rings
Reminding me to be strong

You exist
within me
Guiding me
Loving me
Cheering for me

Because I love you
I am never alone
Even in the dark
I feel your warmth

I look in the mirror
And see that little girl
I wrap her in love
and I watch myself grow

It’s only possible
Because of all we’ve been through
So the thing I’m most grateful for, every day,
Is younger me,
Thank you.

I thank you Lillian for simply being you. I am proud of all your hard work and accomplishments. Thank you for finally taking care of you. You have been about other people for so long now, you lost yourself for a second. Thank you for being so forgiving. Even though it may have seemed impossible, you did it. Thank you, Lillian, for finding God and allowing yourself to walk by faith, not sight. It was the best decision you made. Thank you, Lillian, for remaining calm when exploding would be acceptable. You finally understand that no one is worth the anger, sadness, or irritation. No one is worth your peace of mind. Thank you, Lillian, for standing in your truth, and simply being you.