I don’t know when it happened — maybe somewhere between the late-night drives, the unhinged FaceTimes, or the moments where we were laughing so hard we couldn’t breathe — but my girlfriends quietly became the safest parts of my life.
They’ve stayed through every version of me.
Even the ones I wouldn’t have stayed for.
They’ve seen me soft, stubborn, overwhelmed, falling apart, healing, and rebuilding… and somehow never made me feel like I needed to show up as anything other than exactly who I was that day.
There’s a different kind of love in that.
The kind that isn’t loud or dramatic — just steady, consistent, and so deeply grounding.
With them, the smallest moments become memories I hold tight:
the “I’m outside, get ready” texts,
the pep talks in random bathrooms,
the shared silence when words aren’t enough,
the hugs that somehow reset your entire nervous system.
They’ve taught me how to be soft without feeling weak.
How to be honest without apologizing for it.
How to show up — even on the days I don’t have much to give.
How to let people hold me when I forget I don’t have to do everything alone.
Female friendship is its own quiet magic.
It doesn’t demand attention.
It doesn’t need fixing.
It just… exists in this gentle, powerful way that shapes you without you realizing it.
So this is for my girls —
for being the loudest laughter, the realest honesty, the sweetest comfort, and the safest chaos I know.
Thank you for loving every imperfect piece of me
long before I learned how to love them myself.
If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s this:
I wouldn’t be who I am without them.
for you two — you know exactly who you are.
thank you for choosing me in every version.
all my imperfects. 