A Love Letter to 24

I love being me.
23 and healing me.

23 years young in Florida

This past year has changed me in ways I never expected. I moved out of my parents’ house and cried more about it than I thought I would. I started traveling more, meeting new versions of myself everywhere I go. I found a psychiatrist, a therapist, and soon I’ll be starting EMDR therapy — which, honestly, scares the shit out of me.

Island girl—Bahamas cruise before moving out of my parents

Settling into new room

I sat on my bedroom floor surrounded by half-packed boxes wondering why growing up hurt so much.

Healing Inner Avery has been one of the most empowering, emotional, beautiful experiences of my life. Doing all the little things that once made Little Avery happy as an adult has softened me in ways I didn’t know I needed.

For so long, I thought survival was strength.
Now I’m learning that softness is strength too.

I’m continuing to nurture Little Avery because she deserves safety, love, comfort, joy, and a future she never thought she’d have. But I’m also healing the protector in her — the version of me that had to grow up too fast and stay emotionally guarded just to survive.

And this next year, before my inevitable quarter-life crisis, I’m going to continue becoming the kind of person I feel proud to be. Not just for who I am now, but for the life I want to create. Because I matter. I am important.

I want to become the kind of woman my future partner feels safe loving.
The kind of mother my future little Averys deserve.
The kind of person younger me needed most.

I’m not only doing this for me anymore.
I’m doing it for the people I love, the people I haven’t met yet, and the life I know I’m capable of creating.

And for the first time in a long time, I’m genuinely excited for my future.

Little Avery would be proud.