An anonymous entry

To the version of me from a year ago,

I know why you kept quiet. It wasn't weakness. It was hope wearing your face, whispering that tomorrow would feel a little softer.

I forgive you for the nights you rehearsed apologies for things you didn't need to be sorry for. I forgive you for making yourself smaller so the room felt easier.

You're allowed to take up space again. Slowly. Without asking.