Your Words...

It’s been a particularly rough couple of weeks. I can say I probably haven't slept more than two hours a night in the past week. I haven’t been doing my hair or makeup for work. It’s been a pile-my-hair-into-a-messy-bun and power-through kind of season.

The other day someone said to me, “You haven’t been doing your hair - is everything okay?”

They noticed.

They noticed because since January, I’ve been trying really hard to show up well - to look good, to feel good, to put my best foot forward. And suddenly, I wasn’t.

Because I’m not okay.

That’s the power of paying attention. Of saying something out loud. Of letting someone know that who they are and what they do matters enough to be seen.

An old friend said something to me recently:
“I hope you don’t stop writing. It’s your passion, and you’re a brilliant writer.”

It caught me completely off guard.

Most of my family hasn’t read my writing. I don’t usually say that out loud - maybe because it feels awkward, or maybe because it stings more than I want to admit. They aren't huge readers to begin with. Romance novels really aren't their thing, and that’s okay. Truly. They’re busy. They have their own lives. They love me in so many other ways.

But still… sometimes it hurts.

Writing is what I love. It’s the thing that makes me feel most like myself. And I want the people I love to love it too - the way I try to love the things that matter to them.

So when someone from what feels like a lifetime ago read something I wrote - and then took the time to encourage me - it meant more than I can fully explain. It’s wild how one simple sentence, something they probably didn’t even think twice about, could carry so much weight.

These two moments made me stop and ask myself:

Do I do this for the people in my own life?
Do I pause long enough to encourage them in the things they care about?
Do I tell them - clearly - that what they’re building, dreaming about, working toward matters?

If I’m honest, not nearly enough.

I think we often assume people just know how we feel. We think love and support are implied - that the words aren’t necessary. But for many of us, the words are the difference.

They matter to me.

Everyone wants to know that what they’re doing with their life - what they’re creating, building, dreaming about - means something to someone else.

Sometimes all it takes is one sentence to remind someone to keep going.

So maybe this is your reminder:
What you care about matters.
What you’re building matters.
You matter.