Category: Notes from Life

Let the softness you craved from others become the way you speak to yourself. Maybe for years, you waited for someone to notice. To see how heavy it was. To speak gently to you instead of demanding more. To choose you with tenderness, not just when you were useful or strong or put-together. Maybe you…

There’s no shame in wanting someone else to drive for a while. You’ve done enough steering. This is for the ones who have always held the map. Who’ve been the planners, the protectors, the providers. The ones who never had the luxury of crumbling because everyone else needed them to be okay. Who kept the…

Not every lesson has to come through pain. Joy can be a teacher too. It took me a long time to realize this. That I didn’t always have to be cracked open by grief or heartbreak to grow. That I didn’t need to collapse, crawl, or break into pieces in order to become wise. Somewhere…

Being feminine again isn’t about makeup or dresses. It’s about not having to brace yourself every morning. So many of us were taught that femininity meant how we looked—lipstick, polished nails, soft dresses, gentle smiles. We were told to “act like a lady” while carrying the weight of the world on our backs. But the…

You didn’t fail at strength. You simply outgrew the version of you that only knew how to fight. That version of you—the one who hustled, pushed, braced, fought through every storm with clenched fists and tired eyes—she didn’t fail. She did exactly what she needed to do to get you here. She protected you. She…

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be held. To want rest. To want to be cared for. I think somewhere along the way, we were taught that needing these things made us weak—or worse, needy. That to be strong meant to always stand on our own. To want softness made us childish. To crave rest…

You’ve probably been called too intense. Too emotional. Too loud. Too sensitive. Too ambitious. Too honest. Too complicated. Too… much. And for a long time, you believed it. You believed that you needed to shrink, to filter yourself, to water down your magic just to be tolerated. You learned to speak softer, feel less, dream…

There’s a version of you from long ago—before the heartbreaks, before the pressure, before you had to toughen up just to survive. A version that laughed freely, cried without shame, trusted without fear, and loved without needing proof first. That softness wasn’t weakness. It was your truest self, before the world told you to be…

Somewhere along the way, many of us were taught to earn our rest. To justify our softness. To explain why we’re tired, why we need space, why we can’t keep holding it all anymore. We learned to shrink our needs or dress them up in apology, because just wanting peace felt selfish, lazy, or too…