Sometimes I wish I could just sit across from the girl in the mirror and tell her to be brave. Not in some big, dramatic way; but in the small, quiet moments where it matters most. When no one’s watching, when the doubt creeps in, when the world feels too heavy.
I’d tell her that bravery isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s just choosing to keep going. To speak up when your voice shakes. To try again after falling apart. To believe there’s still something good ahead, even when you can’t see it yet.
I’d remind her that strength doesn’t always feel like strength. It often feels like exhaustion. Like vulnerability. Like showing up anyway.
And I’d hope that someday, she’ll see what I see; someone capable, worthy, and far braver than she thinks.
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