In our lives, we are incredibly fortunate if we have even one person in our corner, encouraging us to grow in all of our favorite directions, regardless of where the sun shines or the rain falls. Ever since I was little, you have always been my person. You are my safe haven.
You always understood me in ways that most people couldn’t, providing me with an environment I could run away to, and grow in. You would let me cry or vent until my voice was hoarse with the repetition of my confessions, deepest desires, or most recent heartbreak. You would listen to me pick apart situations from every possible angle until my throat ran too dry to speak. My vocal cords often seemed to run out of patience with me before you ever did. You always made me believe that my feelings were valid.
For as long as I can remember, you were the one I was most excited to share my artwork with. Whether it was a lopsided cat that I had summoned into existence with my clumsy toddler hand and a broken crayon or a puppet I constructed from a brown paper bag and macaroni, you always made me feel like I had this incredible gift of creation that needed to be shared with the world.
I remember you reading a story over my shoulder once. You stood there, taking it all in as I was still typing it. I was twelve years old, entirely consumed by my fictitious world that I was still piecing together on that keyboard in front of me. I didn’t even know you were there until you said, “Damn, girl. You’re definitely a writer!” That has always stayed with me. Every time I struggle to pick up a pen, your voice plays in my head as a reminder of who I am.
As an adult, you are still the first person I want to run to with my latest creations, but most of the time, I don’t even need to. You already see them, all on your own. I don’t have to beg you to pay attention or notice my latest efforts. You just already see everything and know. I wish more people cared the way that you do.
Even when your own life was a flaming shit show, you always found a way to be an anchor through all of my storms. Thank you for keeping me from drifting away from myself, or drowning in anyone else’s expectations.
Thank you for always making me feel seen and heard, and celebrated for being exactly who I am. Thank you for consistently encouraging my growth in the areas that others often took for granted, and for acknowledging every damn flower that finally decided to bloom. Even when I hated the colors, you treated each petal as if it were a masterpiece.
Thank you for everything.
I truly wouldn’t be who I am without you.