Letter to myself

I forgive you.

I forgive you for the choices you made when you were aching, unseen, and unsure of how to ask for what you needed.

I forgive you for the ways you tried to feel alive again - even when it led to pain.

I forgive you for being human: messy, longing, afraid, hopeful.

You didn’t betray love.

You were trying to find it - in places where it seemed possible again.

I know now that you were lonely.

That your heard wasn’t malicious - it was quietly drowning.

That your body wasn’t reckless - it was starved for affection, touch, tenderness.

And even when you crossed lines…

You never stopped being good.

You never stopped being worthy.

I forgive the woman who made those choices.

I hold her with compassion, not judgement or condemnation.

I bless her for surviving.

Because the woman I am now - the woman I am becoming -

walks in truth.

She speaks her needs.

She honors her body.

She loves in the light.

And she does not need to carry shame any longer.

I love you.

I see you.

I free you.