From My Soul

Wrote a letter to my child and then read it to myself:

I love you. Before anything else, I need you to really hear that. I know you’re in pain. I know you feel misunderstood, frustrated, and worn down by life, and I want you to know that I am not your enemy. I am not against you. I am on your side, even in the moments when I am upset, disappointed, or hurt by your choices. Nothing in this world will ever change the fact that I love you deeply.

But I need to speak to the adult in you, not the hurting or wounded child. The world is not responding to your intentions — it is responding to your attitude, your words, and your behavior. You are strong, intelligent, capable, and full of potential. I see it, and I’ve always seen it. But your pride, your anger, your defensiveness, and your refusal to be coached are destroying the very things you say you want. You cannot keep talking to people with disrespect and expect support. You cannot keep rejecting wisdom and expect life to go smoothly. That isn’t people hating on you — that is cause and effect. Life is responding to the energy and choices you are putting into it.

Right now, what you are experiencing is not a reflection of your talent, your heart, or your potential. It is a reflection of your choices. And I’m saying this because I want to see you win, not struggle. I don’t want to watch you repeat the same cycle or drown in the same pain. I want to see you take your strength and build, not burn.

So I need to ask you something, and I want you to sit with it before you answer: Are you determined to keep doing things your way — even though your way is breaking you down? Or are you finally ready to try a new way, one that leads to stability, peace, and respect? Because no matter how heavy life feels right now, you are not stuck. You have a choice. This moment can be a turning point if you allow it.

If you are truly ready to grow, I will walk with you. I will stand beside you. I will help you, support you, and do everything I can to guide you toward better. But if you choose to keep doing things the way you are doing them now, then I will have to step back. Not because I’m giving up on you, and not because I love you any less, but because I cannot keep trying to save someone who is fighting the very hands trying to hold them up. I refuse to watch you drown in choices you don’t have to keep making.

I love you. I am here. And I will always be here. But I will only help you if you are ready to help yourself — or at the very least, admit that you don’t know how, and you are willing to ask for help and receive it. That honesty alone can change everything, and that is a step I pray you are ready to take.