For Her..

(A Love Letter to the Woman I’m Becoming)

She almost didn’t do it.

She almost let another day pass, another week, another year—still waiting, still shrinking, still convincing herself that maybe she wasn’t ready yet.

She almost let fear win. Again.

But then, she remembered:

She wasn’t doing this just for herself. She was doing this for her—the woman she used to be. The one who hesitated. The one who watered herself down so she wouldn’t be “too much.” The one who knew, deep down, that she was meant for more but was too afraid to become it.

She wasn’t going to let her down again.

---

To the Version of Me Who Was Too Scared to Choose Herself

You tried, baby girl. You really did.

You made yourself smaller, softer, easier to digest. You kept your voice at a polite volume. You didn’t ruffle feathers. You stayed when you should have left.

You convinced yourself that as long as you were likable, as long as you didn’t step on any toes, life would eventually open up for you. That you’d be rewarded for being agreeable, for being easy to love, for never making anyone too uncomfortable.

But here’s what they don’t tell you—playing it safe is the fastest way to lose yourself.

I look back at you now, and I see all the times you held your tongue when you wanted to speak, all the times you said “I’m fine” when you weren’t, all the times you smiled and nodded when something inside you was screaming No. No. NO.

I see the way you let yourself be overlooked. I see how you clapped for everyone else while secretly wondering when it would be your turn.

I see how you thought that if you made yourself small enough, agreeable enough, accommodating enough—eventually, someone would choose you.

But the real gag is, you were always supposed to choose yourself.

I’m sorry it took me so long. But I’m here now.

And I’m choosing you.

---

I’m Still Scared… But Screw It

Look. Let’s be honest. I wish I could say that realizing all of this magically made fear disappear overnight. That I woke up one day, Beyoncé playing in the background, fully transformed into the most confident, fearless, self-actualized version of myself.

But that’s not how this works.

Fear is still here. She’s still whispering in my ear, still showing up like an uninvited guest at a party I didn’t even plan. She’s still throwing out “What if you fail?” and “What if they don’t get it?” and “What if this is a mistake?”

The difference now?

I’m no longer treating fear like a damn authority figure.

I’ve let her drive the car for way too long, and let me tell you—she sucks at directions. She’s always slamming the brakes, making U-turns, and pulling over on the side of the road like, “Wait, let’s think about this again.”

So I’m putting her in the backseat.

She can come along for the ride if she must, but she doesn’t get to touch the damn wheel anymore.

---

Stepping Into This Shamelessly

So here I am. Showing up. Writing this. Taking up space. Not waiting for permission.

This is for the woman I was. The woman I am. The woman I am becoming.

For the times I hesitated. For the times I shrank. For every version of me that needed to be reminded—

You don’t have to wait anymore.

For her, I’m doing it now.

---

Okay, Your Turn

And now, I want to talk to you.

I know I’m not the only one who’s felt this way. I know I’m not the only one who has spent years playing small, waiting for the right moment, waiting for someone to give them permission to take up space.

So tell me—how many times have you gone back on your word to yourself?

How many times have you almost gone for it but let fear pull you back?

How many times have you let other people climb over you like a damn stepping stone while you stood there, thinking, Maybe next time I’ll speak up?

How many times have you stopped yourself from wearing the outfit, throwing the party, taking the damn risk—because you were afraid of being too seen?

How many birthdays, milestones, wins—big or small—have you let pass by without celebrating yourself properly? How many times have you given credit to everyone but you?

Enough.

Enough waiting. Enough hesitating. Enough talking ourselves out of our own lives.

I’m not doing that anymore. And if you’re tired of doing it too, then let’s do this together.

Let’s come undone. Let’s take the leap. Let’s stop waiting for the version of us that’s “ready” and realize that this version—right here, right now—is enough.

So if you’re in, buckle up, babe.

We’re about to become unapologetically who we were always meant to be.

For her. For me. For you.