A Letter to the Girl I Was

You didn’t know it then

how radiant you were,

even in your silence.

You tried to fold yourself

into shapes you thought the world could love.

Tucked in your laughter,

softened your light,

apologized for taking up space

in rooms that never deserved your presence.

But I remember you.

I remember how your eyes searched,

how your heart bent

just to be understood.

And still

you held so much beauty.

Not the kind they taught you to chase,

but the quiet, unspoken kind

that blooms when no one is looking.

You thought something was missing.

That you had to earn your place.

But in that little pocket of time,

in a house far from home,

under a sky that didn’t expect you to change,

you were finally allowed to exist

as yourself.

No performing.No shrinking.Just you

barefoot and soft-spoken,

belonging without asking.

I carry you now.

You are not lost.

You are not broken.

You are the seed I grew from.

And if I could touch your cheek,I’d tell you this:

You were never incomplete.

You were just waiting to be returned to.