A Letter to the Young Me Who Didn’t Know She Was Magic Yet

You were never too much.You were never asking for too much.You were never dreaming too loud, loving too hard, feeling too deep. I know people made yo

You were never too much.
You were never asking for too much.
You were never dreaming too loud, loving too hard, feeling too deep.

I know people made you question yourself—
told you to shrink your voice, smooth out your edges,

force your beautiful, thick, curly textured hair to stay straight even in the rain,

act like you didn’t see what you saw,
feel what you felt,
know what you knew.

Just shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

But I want you to hear me clearly now:
You were always magic.
Even when people tried to make you forget.

Magic doesn’t always look like glitter and spells.
Sometimes it looks like survival.
Like knowing when something ain’t right even if everyone else smiles.
Like saying “no” with your eyes when your voice was shaking.
Like laughing loud in rooms that wanted your silence.

Your softness was sacred.
Your anger was justified.
Your joy? Divine.

Maybe they didn’t see it—but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.
You were walking with light, with wisdom, with ancestors braided into your spine.

You weren’t lost.
You were becoming.

So to the girl who stayed up too late writing in her notebook,
the girl who walked the halls pretending not to care,
the girl who wished just once someone would ask how her heart was doing—

I see you now.
And I have been building the world you deserved.

One breath. One step. One moment.
One truth.
One story at a time.

You’re still here.
And you’ve always been magic.

—
💫 From the woman you became.
From the future that loves you back.