I see you—
Holding it all together with quiet grace,
Even as your soul pieces itself back together in silence.
I see you choosing peace over panic,
Stillness over storms,
Restraint where rage would feel justified.
I see you—
Breaking chains your ancestors couldn’t,
While still carrying wounds no one else can see.
Loving deeply, freely—
Even as you relearn how to love yourself without guilt.
No one says it enough:
The emotional labor you do is holy.
The way you keep showing up—
Exhausted, invisible, underappreciated—
That’s not weakness. That’s warrior work.
You guard hearts like a fortress,
Even when there’s no one guarding yours.
So hear me now:
You’re not late.
You’re not too broken.
You are not behind.
You are blooming.
Softly. Quietly. Powerfully.
Even if no one claps.
You were never meant to walk this path alone.
Even in silence, your presence roars.
Your tenderness is a type of strength the world doesn’t understand.
And your story?
It’s the spark in someone else’s darkness.
Proof that survival can still look like grace.
Keep going, sis.
You are not invisible.
You are not too much.
You are not alone.
You are phenomenal.
I don’t know who this is for… maybe it’s for you, maybe it’s for me.
Either way, I hope it lights something in you.
Don’t give up.
You are seen, you are loved, you are so needed.
Keep going. I love you. 💛
With Love,
Fayvourebirth.