Sometimes I write a letter to myself.
I ask myself to be gentle with me.
I tell myself of the worries and the storms that we are going to face together.
And I ask if we are ready.
Sometimes I tell myself that I am afraid and that my fear hides in dark corners that I am struggling to look into.
And sometimes I tell myself that I am proud of resilience,
Of not crumbling when the edges of the world felt as though they were coming down.
Sometimes I write paragraphs about happiness and ask myself to remember these moments,
To hold onto them tightly for when difficult times come,
As they are wont to do,
I will need these moments of sunshine to light the path from my tentative feet in the darkness.
Sometimes I write a letter to myself and fill the margins with notes.
Remember to buy laundry soap.
Remember your happiness is much more important than any possession.
Find ripe avocados.
Smile longer at those who struggle to find their own light.
Breathe.
Compassion and accountability are not the same things.
Donate clothing.
But mostly I write letters to the woman who I have been and the person I am constantly becoming.
In a world where feeling yourself fully and completely can seem as an act of rebellion,
I spend my time writing myself letters of love.
