A letter from Jul 09, 2025

Dear FutureMe, A Letter to My July 2026 Self Written in the Waiting Room, July 2025 Dear Me, I’m writing to you from a liminal space—the kind I know now holds more magic than it seems. I’m in a waiting room with my daughter, the hum of fluorescent lights above me and uncertainty just beneath the surface of my skin. I don’t know exactly how things will unfold from here, but I do know this: I’m still here. I’m still choosing to believe. I’m still holding the thread. If you’re reading this, then we made it through things I’m still in the middle of. We survived more bureaucracy, more worry, more emotional unraveling than most people could fathom. But you—you beautiful thing—you made something of it. I imagine you’ve carved out sacred space in the world now. Maybe Fort Jasper is no longer just a vision board or a whisper in my chest but something others can walk through. Maybe people are wearing my jewelry, reading my stories, saying, “She helped me remember who I am.” I hope you still cry when the right song comes on. I hope you’ve seen your name printed on something that made your inner girl light up. I hope people still tell you, “Thank you for what you’ve made.” I hope you let it in. I’m proud of you for keeping your heart open—for not letting the world make you cold. I’m proud of the nights you chose ritual over rage, or let the tears fall instead of clenching your jaw. I’m proud of how you loved your daughter through the storm. I’m proud of every boundary you set, every ‘no’ that protected your soul, and every ‘yes’ that dared to bloom. I know you still talk to the stars. I hope you rest more deeply. I hope there’s softness in your days. I hope you look back at me—not with pity, but with deep compassion. Tell me it was worth it. Tell me the seeds I planted in faith grew roots. And if the world has shifted again, if new storms are rising—remind yourself who you are. You are the spiral. The priestess. The page-turner. The one who remembers and restores. Keep going. With fierce love and unwavering faith, Me, July 2025