Dear girl,
Oh dear, little girl. I wish we had had this conversation earlier.
You don’t have to prove your worth by how much you can endure.
You don’t have to fix everything before you allow yourself to rest.
You don’t need to explain why your joy matters. Or why your tears are valid.
Someone, some time, convinced you that love is earned through effort. That you have to be useful to be kept. That you have to keep working harder and faster than anyone to stay ahead of crises unknown. That you have to anticipate needs before anyone speaks them. And honestly? You’ve gotten really good at that.
But I want you to know — you were never supposed to disappear in order to belong.
You think you’re being “easy” when you wait just a little too long to ask for help.
You think you’re being mature when you withdraw tactfully when you’re pain to yourself.
You think you’re being strong when you say “it’s fine” even when it’s not.
But baby girl — I see you.
And I know you’re tired.
Let me tell you a few things I wish you had heard sooner:
You are not dramatic. You are expressive.
You are not weak. You are emotionally attuned.
You are not too much. You are in full color. You just have a not-so-quiet stubbornness to be just you. You are not unstable. You are just full of life and committed to living truthfully (at least by not lying to yourself, no matter what).
Oh, sweet girl. Life has taught us that there always will be people who won’t understand you. Some even in the circle of those who love you the most. That’s okay. Don’t twist yourself trying to understand why this is the way it is. Don’t even try to analyze why they don’t get it. You’ll learn, eventually, and be okay with not always being the Belle of the Ball. And the world will not end.
And here’s something else: one day, you’ll learn the joy of finding your tribe. And people who make you feel compelled to keep your softness. Keep your curiosity. People who amplify your voice, even when it trembles, and who hold your hand through everything. It is a wonderful joy to be loved by other people than those who first loved you and have been so steadfast (that huge family and those crazy siblings of yours, of course).
Most of all, you will discover that you can say with as much honesty as the sun rising in the east that you truly love yourself. I really and truly love you.
We’re still becoming.
Love,
Me.