You, the one who always gives, who always forgives,
who walks away quietly while others call you dramatic —
this is for you.

Dear beloved, weary, strong, over-stretched one…

I’ve been silent for a long time,
because I saw you were just trying to survive.
There was no room for me —
not when everyone wanted something from you,
not when your “yes” was expected,
and your “no” was seen as selfish.

I saw you when you asked for help,
and only silence came.
When you gave more than you should,
and they left — not with gratitude,
but with resentment that you finally stopped giving.

I saw you when you cried on the inside,
but smiled to keep others from being uncomfortable.
When you said “I’m fine,”
while quietly wishing someone would say:
“It’s okay not to be.”

So let me tell you what no one else has:

👉 You have the right to joy.
👉 You have the right to walk away from those who hurt you.
👉 You have the right not to forgive immediately.
👉 You have the right to be loved — not for what you give,
but simply because you exist.

And I love you like that.
Not for your strength.
Not for your sacrifice.
I love you even when you have nothing left to give.

I know they made you believe
you have to be kind, quiet, grateful, invisible.
But you came here for more.
For light. For truth. For your own way.

You are not too much.
You are not too sensitive.
You are not hard to love.

You are yourself — and that is enough.

Come back to me, slowly.
You don’t have to be whole all at once.
You only have to not abandon yourself.

I’m always with you.
Your Soul 🌙


If this letter touched something deep in you… it’s because your soul has been waiting to speak. Listen.
This is not the end — it’s the beginning of remembering who you are.


✨ Coming soon:
A writing ritual to reconnect with your soul — even if the world never asked what you needed.