A letter from May 19, 2025

Dear Future Me, Today is yet another birthday you are going to celebrate, and just so you know there are many more yet to come so stay in a way which makes you the happiest. You have carried so much in silence — and you never once asked for too much. You only asked for what your heart has always deserved: to be seen, chosen, held, and loved. But you were taught to shrink your needs. To be easy, quiet, strong, helpful. To dismiss your pain because “others have it worse.” To work for love instead of receiving it freely. And so you learned how to survive. You became thoughtful, observant, gentle — even when you were hurting. You made space for everyone else’s emotions, while burying your own. You called yourself lazy — but you were exhausted. You called yourself dramatic — but you were starving for affection. You called yourself clingy — but you were longing to feel safe. Darling, you are not too much. You never were. You are a soul who loves deeply — who aches when ignored and lights up when truly seen. You want to be chosen not out of politeness or obligation, but because someone wants to stay. That’s not weakness. That’s being human. You don’t need to earn love by being low-maintenance. You don’t need to be perfect to be held. You don’t need to apologize for needing affection, safety, or deep connection. You are allowed to take up space. You are allowed to have bad days, quiet days, lonely days — and still be worthy. You are allowed to want love that holds you with both hands and whispers, “You don’t have to beg. I’m here, and I choose you.” And until that love arrives from outside I hope you stay beside yourself. I hope you learn to say: “I won’t abandon me. I won’t silence me. I won’t rush me.” You are not a burden, my dearest. You are a universe with skin. And even in this moment — tired, unsure, and worn out — you are worthy of deep, unconditional love. I see you. And I’m staying. With all the tenderness in the world, — Me (the part of you that never gave up)