Letter to Myself.

Dear Me,

Here we are, standing at yet another crossroad, staring at the map of our life like a confused traveler with no signal. Left or right? Forward or back? Stand still or take a leap? Every choice from this moment on feels like a domino, ready to set the course of the years ahead. And truth be told, I am exhausted. Not from life, but from the weight of wanting to live it right.

I want to live, but not struggle. To breathe deeply, not gasp for air. To move through life like a graceful dancer, not a weary warrior in an endless battle for survival. But does life ever hand out ease without effort? Does joy ever come without the price of pain? “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28). Those words should be my anchor, but some days, I still find myself carrying loads I was never meant to bear. I don’t want to scrape by, stretching pennies and patience, always waiting for the “one day” that may never come. I want abundance—not just of wealth, but of laughter, love, companionship, and time well spent. “I have come that they may have life, and have it more abundantly.” (John 10:10).

I want love, but not the kind I have to fight for, the one that feels like a battlefield, where I am both the soldier and the casualty. I want love that stays, not one I have to chase. Love that speaks my name like a song, not one that calls only when it needs something. Love that feels like home, not a house I have to beg to be let into. “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.” (1 Corinthians 13:4). If love is these things, then why do I find myself settling for less?

I want peace, but not at the cost of my voice. Not the kind of peace that demands silence in exchange for serenity. I want the kind that settles in my bones, making my soul exhale. Peace that is not constantly interrupted by chaos knocking at my door, disguised as obligations, toxic ties, or the fear of disappointing people who wouldn’t lose sleep over me. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” (John 14:27). The true peace I desire, it’s the one found in knowing that even in the storm, I am held.

So, what now? Which path do I take? The road well-traveled, paved with expectations and safe choices? Or the unbeaten trail, where risk and reward walk hand in hand? “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’” (Isaiah 30:21). I wish the answers were written in the sky, but life has never been that generous with its clues.

Still, I know this much—I will not stand still. I will choose, I will move, I will walk toward the life I deserve, even if my feet tremble with every step.

Because this life? It is mine.

And I refuse to let it be anything less than beautiful.

Yours truly,

Me