There’s no perfect

To whoever needs to hear this,

I’m writing from a place where every word is born out of pain and the need for healing. Many speak of their successes and growth, but I started writing when I was in a place where I needed to write to believe in what I was going through, to document and learn from my mistakes, to ensure that the past wouldn’t repeat itself. As a dyslexic child, I never imagined that writing would be the tool through which I express myself and repair my life.

These were three difficult years, not because life is hard, but because healing requires brave confrontation. Life throws challenges at us, and as humans, it’s our job to learn, to adapt, and to pray that we make the right moves. I’m still working on having the courage to share what I’ve been through, deeply believing that the world lacks voices that share from vulnerable, low points.

We all reach breaking points – some of us from a place of strength, some from a place of weakness. But that’s okay. I wish for myself the ability to read my own words, forgive myself, and continue loving myself, even when I make mistakes, even when I don’t do things right. There’s no perfection in this world, and if there’s anything close to it, it’s my family – my children, who are my most complete creation.

I wish for myself the ability to raise people with hearts full of goodness and generosity, people who understand that we are all human, and that life is not black and white but far more complex. This past year has taught me even more that extremism and conflicts aren’t the way forward. They lead us to places where we can’t hear or listen to anyone but ourselves. But in the end, we’re all here trying to nurture life, and every moment of sharing, every hug, every word of encouragement brings us one step closer to that.

With love and faith in myself,