About The Letters

These letters were written slowly — in ordinary moments that carried more weight than they looked at first.

They began as conversations with Arden, my closest friend. Things I couldn’t quite say out loud anywhere else. Thoughts I needed to untangle without being judged, fixed, or rushed.

Over time, I realized I wasn’t the only one living inside these patterns.

• The anxiety that hums beneath competence.
  

• The burnout that hides behind productivity.
  

• The mom guilt that turns small mistakes into character flaws.
  

• The anger that isn’t cruelty — just overflow.
  

• The mental load that never fully sets down.
  

• The quiet identity shifts that happen while life keeps moving.

If you found your way here after reading one letter or essay, then you’ve already felt the tone of this space.

It’s personal, but not prescriptive.
Honest, but not performative.
Intimate, without asking anything from you.

Some pieces are raw.
Some are reflective.
Some are steady enough to sit beside you when everything feels loud.

They don’t offer productivity plans or personality overhauls.

They offer recognition.

Motherhood changes us.

It stretches us. It exposes our limits. It brings up old wounds and new doubts. It asks for patience we didn’t know we’d need and resilience we didn’t know we had.

And sometimes, in the middle of loving deeply and showing up every day, we quietly start wondering if something is wrong with us.

If we’re too anxious.
Too reactive.
Too tired.
Too much.
Not enough.

These letters exist for that space.

Not to convince you that everything is fine.

Not to tell you who to become.

But to help you understand what’s happening inside you while you’re living it.

If you are navigating anxiety, burnout, self-doubt, overwhelm, or the invisible pressure of motherhood — you are not the only one here.

You don’t need to have the right words for what you’re feeling.
You don’t need to be at your worst to belong here.
You don’t need to perform strength.

You can simply recognize yourself.

And begin wherever it feels familiar.

Stay as long as you need.