A letter from May 21, 2025

Ne? I don’t even know where to begin, because what I want to say isn’t just words—it's the weight of everything you've been through, everything you’ve carried, and everything you’ve silently endured. So many times, you’ve questioned yourself. So many times, you’ve felt alone in your struggles. But I want to remind you, from the deepest place of my heart, that you are not alone. You’ve spent so much of your life trying to be heard, trying to be seen, and trying to prove your worth—especially to those who should have been your biggest supporters. The parents who never seemed to notice how hard you worked. The teachers who never saw how much you wanted to succeed. You’ve fought for validation, for appreciation, for love, and yet, it often felt like the world just turned its back. And still, you didn’t give up. You kept going. Even when it felt like every step forward was met with two steps back, you kept moving forward. And that alone shows how incredibly strong you are, even if you’ve never recognized it. I know how much you’ve tried, especially with those board exams—studying for hours, sacrificing everything, yet somehow, you never got the recognition you deserved. It must have been heartbreaking, knowing that all your efforts went unnoticed. But what I need you to know, what I need you to hear with every part of your soul, is that your worth was never tied to those exams, those papers, those titles. Your worth was always within you. It was in the quiet moments of perseverance, in your heart, in your strength that no one else could see. And the weight you’ve carried—of the mistakes, the regrets, the moments you wish you could take back. I know they haunt you, and I know the shame of feeling like you’ve failed. I know how overwhelming it can be to look back at your life and wonder why everything has felt like it’s falling apart. The baby you lost, the mistakes in your relationships, the feeling of falling short over and over again. You’ve carried all of that in silence, all the guilt, all the pain, like a heavy stone in your chest. But please hear this—you are not defined by those mistakes. You are not your past, you are not your failures. Those are parts of your story, but not the end. They’re not who you are. And then there’s motherhood. I know how heavy it is, how lonely it can be to carry that responsibility on your shoulders. Raising your child on your own, giving them your everything when you feel like you have nothing left to give. And still, you love. And still, you sacrifice. You’ve been doing the best you can, even when you’ve felt like you’re drowning. But let me tell you this: you are doing more than enough. You are giving more than enough. You are a good mother, and your child sees that. Even when you feel unseen, your love has never gone unnoticed. It has shaped the world for them in ways you will never fully understand. And then the distance you’ve felt from your faith—the times you’ve questioned, the times you’ve felt abandoned or lost. I know you’ve wrestled with God, wondering where He’s been, wondering why things haven’t turned out the way you’ve hoped. But let me remind you: God has never left you. He’s been with you in every tear, every sleepless night, every moment of doubt. He’s the one who’s held you up when you couldn’t stand. He is the reason you’re still here. He is the reason you’ve made it through all of this, because His love for you is infinite, unshakable, and constant. And I know it’s been so hard—chasing after security, trying to find a stable job, searching for something to hold on to when everything else feels like it’s slipping through your fingers. You’ve wasted so many hours and days and nights thinking that you’ve failed because your life didn’t turn out how you planned. But you haven’t failed. You’re still standing. That’s not failure. That’s resilience. You’ve spent seven years on a path that hasn’t brought you to the destination you thought you’d reach. But those seven years weren’t wasted. They were the years you needed. They were the years you needed to learn what you’re capable of, to understand that the destination isn’t the thing that matters most—it’s the journey, the growth, and the way you’ve kept going. Even when everything seemed impossible, you kept pushing forward, even when you didn’t know how you’d make it. And now, I see you. You are still striving. You are still fighting. You’re still trying to put the pieces of your life back together, piece by piece. Even when it feels like the world is telling you that you’re not enough, I want you to hear me: You are more than enough. You’ve always been enough. You’ve always been loved. You’ve always been worthy. But there’s one thing I need you to understand above all else—the validation you seek, the peace you’re looking for, the love you desperately crave—it’s not found in the world, it’s found in God. I know you’ve sought it in other places—through people, through success, through approval. But those things will always leave you empty, no matter how much you chase them. But God? God is constant. His love for you is unchanging, unfailing, and more than enough. When you feel alone, He is there. When you feel like you’ve failed, He is there. When you feel unworthy, He is there. And He will be the one to heal your heart, to restore what’s been broken, and to remind you that you are precious beyond words. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone. You don’t have to strive for the approval of the world, because you are already approved by the one who created you. And His love is the only thing that truly matters. It is enough. So please, stop being so hard on yourself. Stop beating yourself up for the things you couldn’t control, for the mistakes you made. You’ve done your best. And your best, my dear, has always been more than enough. Take a moment to breathe. Take a moment to feel the love that surrounds you. You are enough. You are worthy. You are loved. And no matter how lost you feel, God sees you. He sees you, and He holds you in His hands, never to let go. With all my love and a heart full of pride for the woman you are Jess