Letters to My Future Self

  Dear Me, As I sit down to write this letter, I can't help but reflect on the journey that has brought me to this moment. It's a journey marked by struggle, pain, and a relentless pursuit of survival in the face of adversity. Growing up, my life was overshadowed by stress and embarrassment, woven tightly with threads of lack and want. I remember the days when our home was devoid of basic necessities – no lights, scant food, and the constant struggle for water. Washing clothes by hand in the sink became a mundane chore, a reminder of our financial limitations. Even then, I found solace in small acts of self-indulgence, perhaps a subconscious attempt to claim a morsel of joy in a life riddled with deprivation. But amidst the physical hardships, it was the emotional burden that weighed heaviest on my young shoulders. I watched my mother revel in her own world of parties and fleeting pleasures, oblivious to the responsibilities she thrust upon me. I became her caretaker, a role I

  Dear Me, Do you ever just ask yourself what you are hungry for? It's a question that often gets lost in the shuffle of daily life. We move through our days with gratitude, acknowledging the blessings we have, yet there's this persistent yearning deep within us. It's a hunger, a craving for something more. Sometimes it's as simple as a hug or a heartfelt "I love you," but more often than not, it's a deeper need that we struggle to identify. As we reflect on our journey, we may come to realize that our needs were often neglected in our formative years. We learned to prioritize the needs of others above our own, becoming proficient caretakers but forgetting how to care for ourselves. It's no wonder we find ourselves unsure of how to tap into our own needs now. Instead of addressing our hunger with mindfulness and intention, we often seek temporary fixes - indulging in food, drink, shopping, or overworking. These distractions may momentarily fill t

Dear Me, If I could be brutally honest with you, I'd say this: I'm tired. Truly, deeply exhausted. It's like my soul itself is weary, worn out from the constant battles, the endless cycles of giving everything I have only to watch it all crash down, forcing me to pick up the pieces and start over again. I'm just tired, you know? Tired of the fight. Tired of waking up every day and chasing after survival like it's some elusive prey. But then, in the midst of this exhaustion, it hits me like a thunderbolt: what I'm really craving, what I truly desire above all else, is freedom. I long for ease, for that elusive break that never seems to come. I feel like I'm wandering in the wilderness, just like the Israelites did after leaving Egypt. When will I finally reach my promised land? And yet, even when they reached it, they had to fight tooth and nail just to hold onto it. And then, in a moment of clarity, it dawns on me: my prison isn't some external force hol

 Today marks a pivotal moment in my journey. I stand at the precipice, facing the rage that has been simmering within me. It's time to confront it head-on. This rage, it's about me. It's about feeling like I should be further along, like I've endured so much and yet still find myself grappling with life. I'm tired of feeling unworthy, bored, and stuck in a cycle of misery despite the abundance of good around me. I'm enraged by my own expectations, by the relentless feeling of failure and the constant questioning of my worth. It's infuriating to sit in this place of stagnation, to play small and be the victim when deep down, I know there's a version of me ready to break free, ready to shine. Playing small may have offered a sense of control, but it's suffocating me. The version of me that's ready to go all in, to embrace my gifts and strengths, is pushing to the surface. She's done with waiting for the perfect moment, for everything to fall in

  Hey Gorgeous Soul,   So, I was having this deep conversation with myself the other day – you know, the kind where you sit down, stare into the abyss, and suddenly become a philosopher. And guess what? We uncovered this wild pattern we've got going on. Like, seriously, it's been a constant in our lives, and it's not the good kind of consistency. More like the "Oh, why are we like this?" consistency.   Now, hubby, being the observant genius he is, pointed this out a couple of years ago. At first, we tried to play detective and debunk his theory, but guess what? The man was onto something. We lack that long-term endurance. It's like we start a race, sprint like Usain Bolt on caffeine, and then boom, we're out of steam before the finish line. It's almost like we're running a relay race, but we're the only one holding the baton. Not sustainable, my friend.   I get it, ADHD plays its part. But hey, as a healer, counselor, and all-around wise

Dear Me, It's your soul speaking, and I just want to wrap you in the warm embrace of self-love and understanding. I've watched you carry the weight of past hurts for far too long, and I'm overjoyed that you're finally heeding my whispers. The journey you've embarked on to rediscover the beauty within is a testament to your resilience. You've often let the shadows of shame, guilt, unworthiness, pain, frustration, embarrassment, and loneliness cast their veil over me. I get it – you were only trying to shield me, to shield yourself. What you may not realize is that I've always been your protector. I've always known the path to guide you safely, even when you doubted my voice. Insecurities, fears, and past perceived failures might have clouded your trust in me, but I want you to know that I'm unwavering in my commitment to your best and highest good. You're not broken; there's nothing in you that needs fixing. All you have to do is trust yoursel