a letter to my heart

dear heart,

how are you?

i know you still get weird whenever someone other than myself checks in with you but i think you're brave for not rejecting the sincere intent and efforts of others. for not becoming embittered by those who display no interest in your itinerary—where you've been, where you are, where you're going. you're actively growing in your own wisdom and you're beautiful for that.

i need you to know that even in fragments, you're still a monument. before the flames. after the thaw. you had to break so you could be here: in the middle of rogue waves in open water and not reliant on being rescued. you refuse to be defined by those you become old news to even when you feel you might drown and i admire you for that. and thank you for releasing every ounce of animosity, resentment, and emotional venom towards those who couldn't or wouldn't love you enough. you saved yourself when you did that.

i know feeling as intensely as you do makes some days easier to maintain your rhythm than others but this is the same dance floor where you were first introduced to your light, remember?

“pain has taught me to appreciate the things that don't hurt.”

you've worn your truth like armor even when they tried to weaponize it and attach shame to it and i respect you for that. you're still learning to trust your story in its entirety with strangers but the culture of breaking silence is a fragile place with flying shards of glass. still, you love. you don't always make it easy to meet myself with open arms but i need that space to be present in what makes me human and your human reminders are always on time. you make it okay to not have it all together all the time. you make it okay to stay connected and to disconnect from those who make me feel far away from myself. you make it okay to trust my journey and to not co-sign anything that doesn't feel authentic to me. you make it okay to walk away from those who aren't prepared for you. you make it okay to grieve those i've outgrown. those i wasn't prepared to lose, too. heart of mine. an inheritance from my courageous mother who taught and continues to teach me vulnerability and humanity. a memorial of my insightful father who taught me that you and my mind need not be adversaries and how to access my mental resources when i'm overcome with emotions.

do you know how much you deserve every moment you've ever felt alive in the wild? you choose to love in freedom—including honoring the tenants who still reside in you while simultaneously creating space for those you love to not feel like they have to minimize the tenants living in theirs—and i commend you for that. you make me grateful for each day i get to wake up, love, let love, and i love you for that.

thank you for showing up.

thank you for giving me the strength to hold my own hand when i come apart.

thank you for revealing infinite universes by remaining open even when it would have been easier to close your doors.

thank you for gifting me the emotional courage and maturity to not love anyone away from the true wild of their heart.

thank you for the lessons only you are qualified to teach me.

thank you for making it easier to breathe when i'm honest about what occupies you.

thank you for the piecing.

thank you for believing that you deserve to heal.

thank you for letting me take care of you.

much peace.