Dear Little Me,

If you’re reading this, it means we’ve made it further than you thought we could. I wish I could wrap you in my arms right now and let you cry without holding it in, laugh without apology, and dream without someone telling you you’re too much.

There are things I wish I could’ve shielded you from—moments that chipped away at your light. People who didn’t see your worth. Days when you felt invisible, or worse, like a burden. But I want you to know something: You were never the problem. You were just ahead of your time.

You always loved hard, felt deep, questioned everything. And I’m proud of you for that. I’m proud of you for surviving when you didn’t know how. For still smiling in photos when your heart was heavy. For not letting the world break you—even when it tried.

I still carry parts of you inside me. The playful, curious, emotional, wild little spark that just wanted to be seen and safe. I’m learning how to take care of us both now.

And maybe most importantly… I forgive you for everything you thought you did wrong. You were doing the best you could with what you had—and that was more than enough.

Walk with me. We’ve still got places to go.

I don’t know where home is yet. Not really. But I believe it’s out there. Not just four walls and a roof—but a feeling. A breath. A place where my heart can stop clenching and my body can finally exhale. I don’t know what it looks like, or who will be there waiting. But I believe I will recognize it the moment I feel safe—not just in my surroundings, but in myself.

Until then, I’ll keep moving. Gently. Boldly. Soft and fierce, all at once.

I’ll keep reaching—not because I’m lost, but because I’m learning how to grow into myself.

We may not know exactly where we’re headed yet,

but I promise—we’re on our way.

With all the love you always deserved,

Me (still searching, still standing, still full of fire—and never giving up on us)

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