Sandra’s Saga: Chapter 12 A Letter to Myself

“ Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.” ——— George Bernard Shaw

Journal Entry: Late Thursday Evening. Moonlight spilling across the kitchen table. Tea gone cold. Everyone else asleep. Just me, this pen, and the stillness of being.

⸻

Dear Me,

You made it.

Not to some grand destination. Not to a perfect weight or a wrinkle-free face or a flawless life.

You made it back to yourself.

And I need you to know—I am proud of you.

I remember how hard those early mornings were, when your knees ached and your breath felt heavy. When you looked in the mirror and couldn’t recognize the woman staring back. When the world seemed like it had moved on without you, and you weren’t sure if you were invited anymore.

But you didn’t give up. You walked anyway.

You stretched. You shook. You sweat. You stumbled. You laughed. You forgave yourself. And you tried again.

You showed up for your body—not to punish it, but to listen to it. To honor it.

You showed up for your mind. You traded the endless scrolling for quiet mornings with books, breathing, writing. You stopped stuffing your feelings under “shoulds” and let them out into the open air. You got curious again. That matters.

And your spirit? Oh, your spirit. You brought her back to life.

You danced. You prayed—not always with words, but with movement, with meals made in love, with hugs held a little longer. You stopped rushing through joy. You lingered in it. You made room for it. You became joy again.

You gave your mother her dignity, and she rose. You let your husband step in, and he did. You let your friend pull you into light, and you danced with her until you both remembered who you were.

You are not done.

But you are no longer lost.

You don’t need permission. You don’t need perfection. You need only this: to keep waking up with a heart willing to try, to forgive, to grow.

So here’s what I want you to remember when life feels heavy or confusing again:

• Be kind to your knees. They’ve carried you far.

• Be soft with your mind. It’s still rewiring itself for hope.

• Be bold with your joy. It’s earned, it’s sacred, and it’s yours.

You’re not the same woman who sat down at this journal months ago. And thank God. You are more. More rooted. More alive. More you.

So go ahead, Sandra. Dream. Travel. Write. Love big. You’ve cleared the path. Now walk it—head held high, heart wide open.

I love you. You are SANDRA

—Me