Beloved sister,
I don’t know how you found your way here —
but something in you already knows
it wasn’t by accident.
You were led by ache. By curiosity. By the quiet tug of more.
You are not broken.
You are not too late.
You are not making this up.
You are waking up.
And it’s disorienting, I know.
It’s dazzling. It’s terrifying.
It’s like falling into yourself while remembering the sky.
But you are not alone.
I’ve walked this way too.
I’ve howled with the hunger, doubted the visions,
held my breath through the undoing.
And I kept going.
I wrote this for you — not to tell you what to believe,
but to remind you that your belief is already sacred.
Your longings are holy.
Your questions are a kind of prayer.
Take your time.
Let this space be a lantern.
Let your body be your compass.
Let your no's be as sacred as your yeses.
And when you’re ready —
know that your unfolding is not only allowed —
it is inevitable.
You are not reading this by chance.
You are hearing your own future whisper back to you:
“Welcome.
I’ve been waiting for you.”
With love from the other side of the threshold,
me
If this found you at the exact moment you needed it, I’d love to hear what stirred in you. Leave a comment, or simply whisper your yes to the page.