11/23/2025
✨ Sunday Letter: The Kind of Growth That Makes You Feel Out of Place With Your Own People ✨
𝗦𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺.
𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗺𝗲.
I didn’t expect a Coke Zero and a dinner out to teach me something about my entire life…
but here we are.
There’s a part of healing nobody warns you about —
𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗱𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗶𝗴, 𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀…
It hits you at something as simple as dinner with your people.
For me, it was sitting at a table with
my brother,
his girlfriend,
and my husband —
the group I’ve always been comfortable with.
And suddenly… 𝗜 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘁 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗜’𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼.
Everyone’s laughing.
Everyone’s drinking.
Everyone’s in the same familiar rhythm.
And you’re sitting there with your Coke Zero,
and 𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗴𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀.
It’s like the world around you is still spinning
and you’re… paused.
Not because you’re being weird.
Not because you’re judging anyone.
But because you’re suddenly very aware
that 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼.
You feel it before you even understand it.
Your smile feels a little forced.
Your laugh feels a second delayed.
Your body feels a little too stiff.
Your mind is racing just enough to make you uncomfortable.
And the thoughts start circling:
𝘿𝙤 𝙄 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢 𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙬?
𝘿𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙄’𝙢 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧?
𝘿𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜’𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚?
𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙣 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙨𝙤 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙞𝙣?
And here’s the part nobody likes to say out loud:
𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻.
You miss the version of you who didn’t think this hard.
Who didn’t overanalyze.
Who didn’t feel the room shift.
Who blended in without trying.
But the truth is…
𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗶𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗸.
One turned into five.
Five turned into day drinking.
Day drinking turned into hiding bottles and pretending everything was fine.
Pretending turned into losing yourself piece by piece
until you didn’t even like the woman you were waking up as.
You know the pattern.
You know the spiral.
You know the shame.
You know the regret pounding in your chest the next morning.
You know that “𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗲” 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁.
So as I sit there —
with my Coke Zero,
with that glass-wall feeling,
with the awkwardness of being the “different one” —
𝗜’𝗺 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲.
My people are still my people…
but 𝗜’𝗺 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿.
And that’s a hard place to sit.
Wanting to belong.
Wanting to relax.
Wanting to feel cool again.
Wanting to blend in.
But also knowing, deep in your stomach:
𝗜𝗳 𝗜 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻, 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗜’𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿.
So you choose you.
Quietly.
Awkwardly.
Bravely.
Not because it’s easy —
but because it’s necessary.
And if all you did that night
was fight the thoughts,
sit in the discomfort,
miss the old ease,
and STILL protect the woman you’ve become…
𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻’𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘄.
If protecting my peace makes me look boring, quiet, or different…
𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗶𝘁.
I’ve been destroyed by “just one night” before.
I’m not going back.
👉 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 “𝗠𝗘” 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝘃𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻.
👉 𝗦𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 — 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝘁.
👉 𝗙𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝘂𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹, 𝗿𝗮𝘄 𝗦𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗟𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀.
