Look at you. 

Gosh.

Look. At. You.

After all the nights you thought you wouldn’t make it. The nights you thought it was all just too much. After the silence, the shame, and the chaos that you had to survive alone.

You’re still here.

That makes you unstoppable. You know that?

The world may have told you that you were too wounded to fight—but they didn’t count on your fire. They didn’t know that your scars are not a weakness. They are proof that you were forged.

Every time you were knocked down and got back up, you rewrote your story's ending.

You may not be the person you were before the pain, or who you could have been, but you are becoming someone even stronger. Someone even wiser.

You don’t owe anyone perfection or a smile on days when it hurts to even breathe. What you do owe yourself is grace, truth, and the freedom to take your time.

This is your life, love.

You’ve earned the right to live it in a way that is uniquely yours.

Keep going.

Your story isn’t over.

;

—H. L. Rillon