Dear Self,
I love you. Is that strange to hear? I love your quirks, your gifts, your hidden joys, your close-held memories. I love the way you sit here at the keyboard, committed to the process of excavation. I love the color of your hair and the shade of your eyes.
I love that you need time alone. I love that you embrace yourself. I love that you are able to sit honestly and openly with yourself, even when you’re afraid of what you might find. I love that you have been faithful to the one who created all these good things about you. I love that he is your center, your peace, your place in which all things hold together. I love that you want to be like him.
I love the life that you have stepped into. I love your commitment to making things beautiful. I love the way you are dependent on your husband, allowing him to carry you in so many ways while you carry him in others. I love the grace with which you parent. I love your holy joy in being with your children, and your humble acknowledgement that you cannot be always with them. I love the person you have been, the person you are, and the one you are becoming. You are filling your space well.
With love,
The most compassionate version of yourself
P.S. It’s all true.