Dear Insecurity — You have followed me like a shadow with teeth, a
creature stitched from every doubt I ever swallowed. You learned my
footsteps, memorized the rhythm of my fear, and fed yourself on the
softest parts of me. You whispered your poison in the quiet hours, told
me I was too much, not enough, a contradiction no one could ever hold.
You curled beneath my ribs like smoke, like a rumor I mistook for truth.
But I see you now. You are not a prophecy. You are a hungry thing — a
monster born from moments I didn’t know how to survive. You grew because
I didn’t yet know that I was allowed to take up space, allowed to rise,
allowed to be more than the wounds you crawled out of. I have mistaken
your voice for my own for far too long. So hear me clearly: I am done
letting you script my story in the dark. I am done shrinking, so you can
breathe. I am done mistaking your claws for protection. Because
something in me began to wake — slowly, quietly, like embers remembering
they were once a wildfire. If I truly trusted myself, I would stop
treating my power like a whispered rumor in the darkness. I would let it
speak in full sentences. I would let it burn. And so I do. I am
choosing to step out of the glass cage you convinced me was home. I am
choosing to meet the world with open hands, not clenched ones. I am
choosing to believe that my voice is not an inconvenience, but an
inheritance. You may linger at the edges, but you no longer get to lead.
I am building something stronger than you — a spine made of
self‑recognition, a heart that refuses to apologize for beating loudly, a
life that does not bend itself into smaller shapes to make you
comfortable. Your reign is over. I am not the girl you fed on. I am the
woman who learned to rise. And when I finally trusted myself, the
phoenix woke.

Dear Insecurity,
I used to whisper your name like it was my own.
You lived in the pauses between my words, in the mirror I avoided, in the doubt that wrapped itself around every dream I dared to touch. You told me I was too much and never enough at the same time. Too loud, too quiet. Too broken, too late. And for a long time… I believed you.
I carried you like a shadow stitched into my skin. You spoke, and I shrank. You doubted, and I stopped. You feared, and I froze. You made me question my worth before I ever gave myself a chance to prove it.
But here’s the truth you never wanted me to realize:
You were never me.
You were the echo of pain, the residue of past mistakes, the voice of people who didn’t understand my story. You were built from moments that tried to break me—but never actually did.
And now, I see you clearly.
You are not power. You are not truth. You are fear dressed up as protection.
I don’t need protection from my own potential.
So today, I’m taking my power back.
I am no longer asking for permission to be confident, to be seen, to take up space in a world that I was born to exist in. I am done shrinking to fit into places I’ve outgrown. I am done apologizing for surviving things that were meant to destroy me.
You told me I wasn’t ready. But I survived everything that tried to bury me—I am more than ready.
You told me I wasn’t worthy. But I’ve carried pain, growth, lessons, and resilience—I am more than worthy.
You told me to stay small. But my spirit was never created to live quietly.
So hear me now, clearly and finally:
I release you.
I release the fear of judgment.
I release the weight of comparison.
I release the need to be perfect before I begin.
I choose growth over comfort.
I choose courage over doubt.
I choose myself—fully, boldly, unapologetically.
I am not the mistakes I’ve made. I am the lessons I’ve learned.
I am not the voice that tried to silence me. I am the voice that rises anyway.
And from this moment forward, I will walk into every room, every opportunity, every dream with my head high—not because I have no fear, but because I refuse to let fear define me.
You may still whisper.
But I no longer listen.
This is where you lose your hold on me.
And this…
this is where I finally become free.
Love Me

DEAR YOUNGER SELF, HERE IS WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT HAPPINESS… I tell you is a choice to align with everyday.

It is the fuel, I have learned that perpetuates one to dance, sing, cry, and laugh.Through the darkest of times the sun shines through and wind blows to carry one to new outlooks with focus.

I take breath to align with energies of happiness everyday when I feel the new day enter consciousness. When I breathe into moment to dance gracefully with passions.

I radiate with calm now, in face of obstacles big and small, to know they can serve highest good when applied with intent.

You are part of me, and I you so it be time to ride carousel of dreams inside vortex of happy. Inside vibrations of true divine self.

Though you be in my shadow, I hold gratitude and send you love for all the many experiences that have led you to expand into my own self.

Time to vibrate with your inner beauty, and not be pulled by judgements of others who don’t know or see you.

Be happy and life becomes an open book of miracles and blessings. One to understand, as time passes

Be happy to call forth light energies, to blanket day and night. And, like a woven lace tapestry it shall engulf you as it has me.

The world be place to cultivate your own garden of dreams inside gentle mist that aids with growth as your velvet like petals of beauty shine.

Its lace that you can choose to be as you ride waves of your own happy inside of unconditional love for I love you.

Gaze upon happy letters so, they will give insight.

Hold onto self love and choose.
Amazing you are.
Play in garden, watering your own happy flowers so they bloom.
Plant seeds in winds breath, to be authentic self in every lifetime. And remember…
You are divine.

These letters equal happy thoughts that will give life meaning. And know I will always love you for the journey you have traveled.

Love,

Mommy Present

I sit and contemplate on everything in life
How could it be filled with so much strife?
I ponder as I sit in silence

The storm inside blows away my home,
My sense of security and causes harm
I wander as I sit in silence

Knowing the words said behind my back
I hide away from all the attacks.
I hear as I sit in silence

Afraid to say anything, afraid to complain
Afraid if I do, I’ll be thrown away.
I fear as I sit in silence

Incapabilities drown my voice
Inadequate sorrows are the only noise.
I dream as I sit in silence…

Wanting to belong and wanting to be loved
Wanting to crawl, out of this mud!
I scream as I sit in silence!

Seeing the blood dripping from my wrists
I await the mercy of my lover’s kiss.
I see as I sit in silence

I’ll only meet my lover twice
Before I wake and before I die.
I breathe as I sit in silence

I steady my breaths as my heart starts to fail
I see my lover thinning the veil.
I cry as I sit in silence

I see death and I cannot resist
I smile as he kisses me on the lips.
I die as I sit in silence

Death raises me up, but my father walks in
So I crumple the paper and put down the pen.
I sit in silence

Dear Insecurities,
I used to think you were me.

You were so loud—
so convincing—
whispering your poison in a voice that sounded like my own.
You told me I wasn’t enough,
not pretty enough,
not strong enough,
not worthy of the kind of love I kept begging the world to give me.

And I believed you.

I let you sit at my table.
Let you speak over me.
Let you rewrite my story like I was nothing more than a draft waiting to be discarded.

But I see you now.

You were never truth—
just fear dressed up in familiarity.
A collection of borrowed voices,
stitched together from rejection, heartbreak, and moments I survived
but never healed.

You made a home in my silence.
You thrived every time I chose shrinking over shining.
Every time I apologized for taking up space
like I needed permission just to exist.

Not anymore.

I am not the girl who bends to fit into places she was meant to outgrow.
I am not the voice you tried to silence.
I am not the reflection you distorted.

I am the storm you warned me about.

The one that rebuilds after it destroys.
The one that refuses to be quiet just because it makes others uncomfortable.
The one that finally understands—
power was never something I had to earn.

It was something I forgot I already had.

So here’s what’s going to happen next:

I’m taking my name back.
My voice.
My space.
My worth.

You don’t get to narrate my life anymore.
You don’t get to turn my softness into weakness
or my survival into something small.

I am allowed to be bold.
To be loud.
To be healing and still unfinished.
To be everything you told me I couldn’t be—
all at once.

You can keep the doubt.
The second-guessing.
The need for validation.

I don’t need it anymore.

Consider this your eviction notice.

There is no room for you
in a mind that finally remembers
who the hell it belongs to.

Sincerely,
The woman you tried to bury—
and failed.

Dear little Jessie Rae,

Everything you’ve been through is valid, everything you remember is true.
Sometimes the people who are meant to protect you, love you and support you are the ones that hurt you. Sometimes after they hurt you, they lie so you get confused.
My sweet girl, always trust yourself. All you have to do is feel what is right and true in your body.
You will spend so many nights with a sinking, painful pit in your stomach, crying yourself to sleep, believing there must be something wrong with you. That is your body telling you something, warning you of the wolf in sheep’s clothing. The devil under that sweet mask.
I need you to know that one day you will come back to your truth.
One day you will release who no longer serves you, who never served you.
You will learn what unconditional love is, unconditional. I know you don’t know what that means right now, but that means someone will love you fully and completely just because of who you are. Always, forever and no matter what.
One day, you will finally find your way home. You will arrive at a place of beauty, peace, tranquility and real true love; for not only everyone around you but most importantly, for yourself.
There will still be pain and loss, but it will feel different because now you know safety. You know that everything you need is already inside of you.
Just hold on. Please stay and know that you are always loved.
Love,
The you who made it through

Hi Suha,
I am you, from eight years later. Now, I am going to hold your hand when I say this, you are an amazing girl and I love you. And I am grateful to you.
I understand your astonishment. I know you are finding this hard to believe. But I would request you to take your time and hear me out. We are free now. We are no longer in the invisible prison. And guess what, we live in our own little apartment now, all by ourselves. We have made great friends who care about us genuinely.
My dear, I know you feel that a part of you is dead, and that you are living with a corpse. That is not true my love. You are so brave, you got us through so much hardship while keeping our soul intact.
We have a great resentment towards a family member, they were supposed to be our safe space, our anchor, but they turned out to be our first bully. It’s okay. They are no longer near us. She respects our boundaries now. We talk to them on our own terms. I know you think you can never escape their grip on you, but you do.
Now that you know that we eventually achieve freedom, I bet you are curious about me. You wouldn’t recognize me if you could see me today. In terms of worldview, we are very different. You may even think I am too radicalized. But don’t worry, our core value has never changed, and the common thing between us is that we are uncompromising when it comes to human rights. I have the means to take actions now instead of being stuck at home. Crazy, right?
We finally got the help we needed so much. And now we help other people. I believe this gives you hope. Speaking of hope, I need to tell you, I am so grateful to you for choosing hope even in our darkest of days. I know how much you are hurting, yet you are choosing life. I don’t have big promises, but I can tell you, we get to see Spanish moss, we get to pick flowers we never knew existed, we get to visit places that feel like heaven. We get to sleep in on weekends without anyone screaming at our ears. We get to rest as much as we need. We get to enjoy learning. We picked up our reading habit again, and we are exploring so many new books. Thank you, for staying alive and letting me experience all these. This means the world to me.
I will leave a little advice though. Your worth is not defined by anyone else, and it certainly does not depend on whether or not if you are dating a certain person. You are a complete human being and you deserve to be treated and respected as such, please don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. I love you, and once again, I am proud of you.
Best,
You in 2026

Always remember you are here for a reason,
Someone above saw you in their vision, part of a remarkable mission; you must follow your intuition.
Don’t let fear consume your decisions and get caught in all of life’s illusions.
When you’re faced with a difficult task,
If you’re not sure you’re on the right path,
Give yourself time, give yourself grace—
We are all human; we all make mistakes.
​Be the one who learns the lessons,
Ask yourself the right questions.
In the end, just follow your heart;
Do not ever give in to the dark.
​Love yourself, heal your demons,
Be the light, be the beacon.
Be the difference this world needs.
You don’t know how? Hear take it from me:
​No matter what you go through, always remember to stay pure and true.
When someone you love shockingly hurts you,
With words that were once so sweet,
Making you feel seen and complete,
Only then to come and see,
That their actions aren’t quite what they seem,
Making you question your own reality—
Those once kind words start to change, cutting you deep, making you bleed, slowly breaking your wings.
​No matter what, no matter how,
You must find a way to fly out.
Find the light that’s always within;
Shine so bright, shine so strong, —be the source
That ignites the brokenness they suppress deep in their subconsciousness.
​What they’ve done is a reflection of them.
Some people weren’t shown love or affection.
It’s not their fault, and you know it, so you take it: again and again like a ritual battle.
They feed their inner demons with substance to try to reason with their pain,
Ignoring all their hurt and suffering.
If they could take a moment to pause, to see in the root cause
Instead of blaming you for the drama that their unhealed trauma has caused,
With the numbness of each hit, he won’t own up to his fucked up shit.
​This is the moment a woman awakens, the moment that stirs and shakens everything that man’s been faking—
The truth he’s forgotten within himself, and it scares the hell out of him,
So he runs, and abandons not just me, but also his son.
​Most women tend to fight back, over-explaining in their lack—it does no good, there is no purpose.
That right there is the source of toxicity he needs to fuel his ego.
So be the difference this world needs;
It starts by planting tiny seeds.
​Follow your intuition, search for inner guidance,
you are loved more than you know; you are something truly incredible.
When you feel like you’re all alone,
Don’t sit and replay all the violence
Instead, calm it down, sit with the silence.
Go to nature, breathe in all the precious miracles, and listen close.
What you’ll hear is divine’s pure love gentle whispers…

Dear Insecurity,
You got loud the moment Hidradenitis Suppurativa entered my life. You showed up in the pain, in the flare-ups, in the draining, the scarring in the places I felt I had to hide. You told me I was embarrassing. That my body was something to cover. That no one could truly accept me like this, and for a long time… I believed you. I believed HS made me less; less beautiful, less confident, less worthy of love , intimacy, and softness. But let’s be clear today HS did not take my worth. YOU tried to! You used my condition as a weapon. You turned my pain into shame. You made me feel like I had to apologize for something I never asked for, but what you failed to understand is this: my body is not weak for what it goes through. MY BODY IS POWERFUL BECAUSE OF WHAT IT ENDURES! For 17 years, I have lived with HS. Seventeen years of pain, discomfort, and healing in places people don’t talk about. And I’m still here, still showing up, still loving, still fighting, still becoming. So no, you don’t get to define me anymore. I am not “gross”. I am not “too much”. I am not unworthy because my skin tells a different story. I am a woman living with HS and I am still soft, still beautiful, still deserving of everything meant for me. This is what awareness looks like: it looks like truth. It looks like vulnerability. It looks like choosing to be seen even when it’s uncomfortable. So you can sit down now, because I’m not hiding anymore. I’m not shrinking anymore. I’M HEALING… OUT LOUD!
— Kaycee 💜

Dear little Lahaina,
Here’s what I wish you knew,
I wish you knew that you’re a lot smarter than you think.
It’s ok to not talk as much and read more.
I wish you knew you were skinny too.
It’s ok to be short.
Everybody is built just the way they were supposed to.
Dear little Lahaina,
I wish you knew that your smile and personality lit up every room you walked into. It’s ok to take up space.
I wish you knew people didn’t hate you just because they stared at you.
Dear little Lahaina, I wish you knew that, that uncomfortable feeling you felt every time you walked into a crowded room that made you so uncomfortable your skin would crawl and you thought it was just anxiety..It wasn’t.
I wish you knew that your brain processes things a lot differently than most people and that’s why you struggled a lot in life mentally and hid behind your chameleon mask..
I wish you knew that it wasn’t your fault.
You are allowed to say no to people and protect yourself.
Dear little Lahaina, I wish you knew that it’s ok to feel alone,
but don’t hurt yourself.
I wish you knew it’s ok to ask for help, it doesn’t make you weak or small.
It’s ok to be sensitive, your feelings matter too.
I wish you knew that you are such a powerful person and you don’t even realize the intuition and charisma you carry.
Trust your gut about everything.
Dear little Lahaina, I wish you knew that you deserve to be alive.
It’s ok to love yourself out loud and unapologetically.
Your self worth is not based off your negative or confusing thoughts.
Or a bully projecting.
Or a messy divorce.
I wish you knew that somebody’s perception of you is not your problem.
It’s ok to be misunderstood.
Dear little lahaina, I wish you knew that even though you lost the most important men of your life before you became an adult they never stopped looking out for you. It’s ok to talk to your spirits and loved ones however you like to.
I wish you knew that in the future, you give birth to two beautiful twin daughters
even though you thought you would never have kids.
Or be a good enough mother
You did it.
Pregnancy was hard. They developed twin to twin transfusion and you got preeclampsia so they had to come 3 months early with an emergency c section.
I know you’ve had so many scary times in your life, but this one was the scariest.
It was the first time life flashed before my eyes and I didn’t want to die.
But dear little Lahaina, they saved us. They saved you.
I wish you knew that you were autistic too because now through everything you’ve been through, you have two little people that are just like you and you are their safe place.
What a privilege that is.
Dear little Lahaina,
I love you.

Dear Insecurity—also known as “Not Enough,”
I’m done pretending you’re mysterious.
You’ve been following me around, introducing yourself in different ways—self-doubt, comparison, fear—but at your core, you’re always the same voice:
“You are not enough.”
You’ve said it about my looks.
My past.
My choices.
My future.
And for too long… I let you define me.
But let me be clear, Not Enough—
You are not truth.
You are not protection.
You are not wisdom.
You are a story I learned when I was hurting.
A habit I carried when I didn’t know better.
A voice that got loud because I stayed quiet.
And that ends here.
I am enough on my worst days.
I am enough while I’m still learning.
I am enough even when I don’t feel like it.
You don’t get to sit at the head of my life anymore.
You don’t get to decide who I am.
You can speak if you want—I know you will.
But I will not listen like I used to.
Because I know something now you hoped I’d never figure out:
I was never lacking.
I was just becoming.
So take your seat in the back.
Stay quiet. Watch me rise.
Sincerely,
The version of me who knows better now
There. Now it’s not some foggy feeling anymore. It’s “Not Enough.”
And once you can name it, you can catch it in real time:
“Oh, look who’s talking again.”
That’s how you take your power back. Not by pretending it’s gone… but by refusing to let it run the show.

I Am No Longer Yours

To the voice that told me
I was never enough—
There is a war inside me
no one else can see.

Not loud—
not always—
but constant.
You filled my mind with noise
until fear learned
to sound like truth.

You told me:

Be good.
Be quiet.
Be pleasing.
Be less.

And I listened.

I became everything
but myself—
a mirror for others,
a home for their needs,
a body that carried
everyone else’s emotions
while abandoning my own.
And now—
I am exhausted.

Not weak.
Not broken.
Just done surviving
a life that never felt like mine.

Because beneath you—
beneath the fear,
beneath the lie—

there is another voice.

Soft.
Steady.
Mine.

She says:

You don’t have to fight yourself anymore.
You don’t have to earn your existence.
You are allowed to take up space.

She calls me by name.
Rebecca.

Not as a role.
Not as an expectation—
but as a person.

Whole.
Worthy.
Human.

And today,
I choose her.
I choose to stay
even when my mind is loud,
even when you whisper shame,
even when I forget who I am.

I will not leave myself again.

You are not my truth.
You are not my voice.

You are a story I survived.

And I am no longer yours.

My Unspoken Gift and Insecuritiy
For so long, I bore my sensitivity as a concealed flaw, an unintended apology woven into every interaction. I labored to alter it—to harden what felt too soft, to quiet what resonated too loudly. Yet it endured, immutable and essential: this is no mere preference, but the distinct architecture of my brain, the very wiring through which I experience the world.
In this recognition, I discover liberation. My sensitivity is no burden to be borne in silence; it is my profoundest unspoken gift. To embrace it without reservation is the greatest benevolence I can bestow—upon myself, and upon all whose paths cross mine.
This trait, termed sensory processing sensitivity, graces a meaningful portion of humanity. While foundational estimates placed 15 percent -a rare depth amid a sea of shallower currents. Why would I fracture or diminish something so singular and luminous, simply because it lies beyond others’ grasp or unsettles their comfort?
With this gift, I transcend mere understanding of another’s feelings—I inhabit them. Joy illuminates me as keenly as sorrow shadows me, a resonance rooted in heightened neural activity within empathy circuits and the mirror neuron system. Thus, I become a quiet healer, a listener of uncommon depth, a steadfast friend and devoted partner. Injustice pierces me viscerally, compelling me to champion justice and kindness with unwavering resolve. This also allows my Intuition to be running on a record alert system that has yet to fail me.
I perceive the imperceptible: the subtle electricity in a room, the unspoken tensions threading the air, the fleeting shifts in energy that escape most notice. This intuitive acuity yields profound insights, artistic richness, and innovative vision. Through writing, music, creation, I distill beauty and ideas that stir the soul. Ordinary instants—above all in the embrace of nature—transfigure into transcendent, soul-nourishing experiences that restore and elevate.
My moral compass holds true and bright; integrity courses through me like an unbroken stream. I am compelled to mend what is fractured, to restore harmony where discord prevails, because equity and compassion are not abstract ideals but living imperatives.
Yet such depth exacts its gentle toll: the imperative for solitude and restoration, the vulnerability to being overwhelmed by “too much.” This is no defect—it is the inevitable shadow cast by profound light, the necessary pause that sustains the richness.
I choose now to dwell among those who cherish rather than critique this sensitivity. Proximity to voices that insist I “stop being so sensitive” only depletes the very essence that completes me; relationships that honor my depth nourish and magnify it.
No longer will I apologize for feeling so deeply, for moving through life guided by that profound care. I claim this gift. I safeguard it. I heed its quiet counsel. And I offer it freely as my truest strength—to those I hold dear, and to a world that aches for hearts attuned enough to truly see, to feel, and to heal.
This gift, once unspoken, now speaks clearly. It is mine to honor, to protect, and to share. 💫

I Got You, Baby Girl

You were alone growing up, never feeling seen, never heard, never comforted, never nurtured and neglected. You are the youngest of 4 and the 1 who was supposed to be the boy, you figure out that you’re different from them and mother. And you get treated as such. When you were hurting, you had to comfort yourself, unless daddy was there and let you climb in next to him. You felt invisible in that house and stayed in your room alone. And just so you know, you will always feel the safest in your room alone. You may hope daddy or someone will come to you and give you the comfort and guidance you need. Since the family is clear you are different, and in a bad way to them, you feel safer alone and isolated, protected from shame and judgment by them. Shame is a word that will repeat throughout our lives.

You will at some point cut off contact with your sisters and will only speak to mother once a month. Things never got better with them, unfortunately, and you just aren’t like them, and that’s okay. Be you. You don’t need them. They do nothing for you. Family is supposed to love one another and care for one another, and protect one another. But they know so little about me at this point that rather than trying to reach out in concern for me when I’ve had certain mental episodes, they have shamed me and told me many times that I am going to kill mother by having the breakdowns and saying terrible things to her. Oh yeah, a doctor will diagnose you with a serious mental illness; I’ll get to that next. If I were in their shoes and one of them was saying the things I was saying, my first reaction would be that there is something wrong, and I would reach out and try to deescalate the situation. Especially with the mental illness being known. The family has no compassion for you at all. Not a drop. They will never validate your feelings, and they will never apologize. And that’s okay. They aren’t your people. Shame is a word that will repeat throughout our lives.

You spent hours of alone time nurturing and comforting yourself, feeling confused and neglected like you don’t belong, and it will have a lasting impact on your mental health. Unlovable becomes the word you most identify with. But you are so lovable, and you can’t believe the things people say to you that are committed to misunderstanding you and not having the capacity to love you. Please, please, please get the help you need from a therapist and possibly a psychiatrist. Making your mental health a top priority early could change the course of your life. Even when you feel you can’t possibly go on, I need you to know that you can and you will. Feelings are temporary; let them come and then let them go. You can live a normal life even with mental illness. Unlovable is a word that will repeat throughout our lives.

I know it’s confusing about daddy. Why would mother put you in the back of the car in the middle of the night to go looking for him? To you, he did no wrong, and you craved his attention. And he treated you differently than the other 3 which made them even more bitter. You’ll get to ride horses and hang out at the racetrack watching the races lots of weekends. Those days were a blessing; keep the memories very close to you. He leaves you feeling abandoned most times, which hurts. And you may feel you never really knew him when it’s too late. Ask a lot of questions, let him tell you stories so you feel closer to him. It’s important that you spend time with him and tell him you love him. He will help you so much, and you are lucky for that. Always be prepared to do it on your own, though. Abandonment is a word that will repeat throughout our lives.

Something unexpected that will change the course of your life is going to happen to you in high school. It’s going to be scary in so many ways. If you read this and can avoid it, it’s the crazy guy; he couldn’t pull out of a driveway. Leave him alone. However, the gift makes it worth the struggle. Eliminate shame. Dump unlovable. Scrap abandonment. Live for you!

I got you, Babygirl.

I’m enough.

Every year when December hits, the cheer of the season reminds me of what’s coming— a new year,
a louder version of that voice in my head.

What did I do this year that proves I deserve a life?
What do I have to show for myself,
when people die every day,
that makes my time around the sun feel justified?

You tell me I will never be enough.
That I can be pretty enough to be noticed,
but not enough to be chosen.
Smart enough to keep up, but never top of the class.
A great friend, but never the best friend.

And somehow, I believe you.
Why?

I would never say these things to anyone else. I would never look at someone and decide they aren’t enough.

So why do you get to say that about me?

I don’t deserve to feel like I’m not enough,
because life isn’t something to compare.

I can be cold,
but I am usually kind.
I can be a lot—
but since when is “more” a bad thing?

I am hard on myself,
harder than anyone else has ever been.

But I am enough.
I am smart, sweet, and strong.
I am allowed to have bad days and good ones.
I don’t need proof or numbers to justify my existence.

And to that voice in my head—
You don’t get to define me anymore.
You don’t get to decide my worth.
You don’t get to speak louder than I do.

Be quiet.