Dear life,
I know I don’t always say it, but I’m proud of you.
Even if no one else sees the work happening beneath the surface.
You’re coming together slowly — not dramatically, not perfectly —
but in a way that feels honest.
Every boundary I set,
every emotion I finally let myself feel,
every dream I whisper only to myself…
you hold all of it without rushing me.
You remind me that growth doesn’t always look like movement.
Sometimes it looks like staying.
Sometimes it looks like healing.
Sometimes it looks like choosing the softer path — even when the louder one feels easier.
I’m learning to trust you more.
To believe that the quiet changes count too.
That I don’t have to prove anything for my life to matter.
Thank you for unfolding with me,
one imperfect chapter at a time.
—k
all my imperfects. 