Letters to Myself: Entry Twenty-Three
Prompt: Think of a time when you wanted to give up but didn’t?
I wanted to write about a time when I almost gave up, but didn’t. This reflection is a look into that moment, the people who kept me going, and the quiet courage that can change everything. Sometimes, the smallest step forward becomes the loudest act of bravery.
There have been plenty of moments in my life when I wanted to give up. But I didn’t.
One of the hardest was when I ended up in the hospital. A moment where everything in me just wanted to stop trying. Yet what pulled me through was the people around me. The ones who cared enough to show up, who reminded me that even in my darkest moments, I still mattered. The doctors who genuinely cared about my mental well-being. The friends and family who never judged, only loved.
That experience taught me something powerful: when you’re at your lowest, judgment fades away. All that matters is whether or not you keep breathing, and who’s standing beside you when you do.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that we should never underestimate the power of non-judgment. To wake up every day and decide, I’m not going to judge anyone today. Because behind every story is someone trying to stay alive, trying to find peace in their own way.
In my lowest moments, what saved me wasn’t a miracle, it was grace. Grace from others, and eventually, grace for myself. I had to learn to fall in love with myself again, to see my life as something worth showing up for. That took time. A lot of time.
But through it all, I’ve realized that courage isn’t loud. It’s quiet. It’s the decision to get up again when you’d rather disappear. It’s telling yourself, I’ll try one more time. And that quiet strength, that small, steady flicker of hope, is what changes everything.
Being brave is something we don’t talk about enough. We live in an anxious generation, one that often forgets the power of courage. But bravery doesn’t mean you aren’t afraid, it means you keep going in spite of it.
Every second you keep going is another chance. And chances, just like steps, compound over time. You might stumble, fumble, or lose your footing along the way, but that’s okay. Because when you look back, you’ll see how far you’ve come.
Never stop stepping. Never stop choosing courage.
You’re stronger and braver than you know.
This post is part of my "Letters to Myself" series — a weekly free-write blog where I explore personal growth, curiosity, and healing through simple prompts. Sometimes reflective, sometimes fun, but always real. Thank you for being here.
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Photo by Kyle Gare
