Love Letters to the Girls Who Are Too Hard on Themselves

let this be the spring you return to yourself, part ii

To the girl who had to grow up too soon,

You were the child who could sense storms brewing before anyone else could, a tiny guardian watching carefully over those meant to protect you. You learned to read faces and decipher what someone’s footsteps told you about their mood. Solving problems that were never yours became second nature, because peace in your home depended upon your ability to keep things calm.

No one taught you how to handle your own emotions. You learned quickly that anger, sadness, or disappointment would only label you as difficult, demanding, or ungrateful.

Excellence became your armor, perfection your shield. You pursued achievement tirelessly, driven not by desire but by the dread of disappointment, each award a temporary relief from criticism or rejection. Underneath all your polished perfection lived a child who ached to be loved without conditions.

Now as an adult, you still carry the heaviness despite having chosen your own family in the friends you love dearly. You repeat patterns from your childhood, your friends rely on you as their safe harbor, the steady voice on the other end of midnight calls. You piece together their broken hearts and unravel tangled thoughts with patience and care, unconsciously echoing old roles that feel familiar yet exhausting.

I wonder if they took a better look at you, would they notice how sometimes your laugh sounds like a distraction, how your smile doesn’t reach your eyes?

I recognize you instantly because I am you, a fellow “fixer”, and when I see another one of us in the world I always wonder: who failed you so early in life that you learned that being strong was safer than being human?

Having it all together is often just the prettiest disguise for being deeply, profoundly tired. Sometimes we micromanage our lives because it’s the only thing we feel we can control.

I hope you give yourself permission to reclaim the tenderness you lost too soon. Rediscover the playful joy you deserve, allow your inner child the freedom to rest without guilt. You’ve carried enough weight for lifetimes, it is safe to put it down now.

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To the girl who keeps disappearing in relationships,

It’s almost a magic trick, the way you merge into someone else’s story. One day you’re your own person, humming your favorite songs while making coffee, the next, you’re tuning yourself to someone else’s frequency so perfectly you forget what your own voice sounds like. You slip into their rhythms, their preferences, their dreams, until the edges blur and you can't quite recall where they end and you begin.

You love deeply and fiercely, each time hoping that this person will be the one that finally sees you clearly. Your gentle heart makes it easy to bend and adapt, but you’re so generous in sharing your sunlight that you sometimes forget to stand in it yourself.

We’ve been taught to believe that being chosen is the ultimate form of validation, but you cling so tightly to the promise of love it squeezes the air out of your own lungs, leaving no room to breathe in who you really are. Maybe you’ve made yourself small for so long, it feels normal to vanish in someone else’s shadow, maybe the thought of being alone scares you more than losing yourself in someone new.

It is beautiful that you know how to love, but love that asks you to erase yourself is not love. You don’t need to disappear to be desired.

You’ll never unearth the fullness of who you are by searching for your reflection in someone else’s eyes. The shape of you is made of stardust and scars and all the stories you carry, and you deserve a love that honors every single one of them.

Come home to yourself, make your coffee the way you like it, play the songs only you know by heart, reclaim your rituals. You were never meant to be a mirror, you are meant to be a masterpiece.

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To the girl who left the life she worked so hard to build,

I know the ache of leaving behind a carefully constructed world, one built piece by piece with late nights, sacrifices, and dreams borrowed from a vision of happiness that wasn’t truly yours.

You once believed this life was exactly what you needed and poured your heart into creating something stable and impressive, a life others applauded from afar. But slowly, it got harder to fall asleep at night, your body trying to communicate with your mind: this was not the life your soul had hoped for. The feeling grew louder, impossible to silence, until you could admit to yourself that you’d built a world in which you felt like a stranger.

It took immense courage to listen, to acknowledge that the safe, familiar life was no longer enough. To choose authenticity over approval, freedom over security, is bravery of the highest order. The discomfort you feel isn’t a sign you made the wrong choice, it's the inevitable stretch marks of growth, proof that you’re expanding into a version of yourself who honors what she truly wants.

And within this uncertainty lies a beautiful, wild freedom. You now stand at the threshold of possibility with an open canvas spread before you, ready to be painted with colors that feel true and vibrant to your spirit. You have given yourself the rare gift of reinvention, the opportunity to rediscover dreams long forgotten, and a sense of self you maybe barely remember.

Life allows for countless chapters, each meaningful, each necessary, each perfectly timed. Your next story, though unknown, promises a deeper alignment, a truer joy, and a peace you've long sought.

Your bravery is inspiring. Keep walking, your new story is just beginning.

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To you, the girl reading this,

You are already enough, exactly as you are. Thank you for all the warmth and love you showed last month's love letters; your sweet messages inspired me more than you know, encouraging me to keep writing these notes.

Me shumë dashuri,
Leidi