The Weight She Carried

And How She Let It Go

She hadn’t spoken about it in years—not because she forgot, but because she couldn’t.

The decision she made that summer still lived under her skin, quiet and sharp, like a splinter she learned to live with. On the outside, everything looked fine. She was doing what women do: showing up, smiling, moving forward. But under the surface was a quiet ache, a sentence she repeated to herself on hard days: “If I had just done things differently…”

We all have that moment, don’t we?

A decision we made from fear or confusion, a reaction we regret, a truth we didn’t speak.

We carry it in our bodies. In our sighs. In our silence.

She told herself she didn’t deserve grace because the consequences were real. She had let someone down. Maybe herself most of all. So she kept punishing herself with guilt dressed as responsibility.

But the truth is: guilt says, “I did something wrong.”Shame says, “I am something wrong.”

And one day, sitting in the car waiting to pick up her daughter, the weight hit her differently. While listening to a podcast she heard the question. She paused and backed up the conversation to hear it again. The question rose up from somewhere deep and gentle as if it were her own thought.

“What if this is the part of you that most needs love?”

What if healing doesn’t mean forgetting?What if forgiveness isn’t a reward—but a birthright?

She felt the tear spill down her cheek and quickly wiped it away. Hearing this didn't

suddenly make her feel free that day. But it did release something inside of her, a sense of bravery. She whispered “I forgive you” to the version of herself who didn’t know what else to do.

She didn’t need to be perfect. She just needed to be honest.

And maybe you do too.

Dear Reader:

If you're holding shame for a decision you made—or didn’t make—please hear this:

You are not beyond grace. You are allowed to grow. You don’t have to earn forgiveness. You can begin it, quietly, now.

A Few Gentle Ways to Begin:

Write a letter to your past self—not to fix her, but to show her compassion.
Say out loud: “I forgive myself for doing the best I could with what I knew.”
Talk to a trusted friend, therapist, or journal. Shame shrinks in the light. You know I am a huge propenent of journaling and therapy! Well, and of course, girl friends!
Remind yourself: your mistakes are not your identity. They are only chapters—not the whole book.

You are not the worst thing you’ve done. You are the courage it takes to keep becoming.

Let that be the story you live now. Have the best week!!

Much love,