Letter

Healing Letter to My Grandmother

Dear Grandma,

There’s so much I’ve carried over the years—words unspoken, feelings unprocessed, truths I didn’t yet have permission to name. I want to begin this letter not with blame, but with honesty—because I know that healing begins when truth is finally allowed to breathe.

I loved you deeply. I admired you. You were someone I looked up to—strong, successful, respected by those around you. In your presence, I felt special, protected, and seen in a way that felt grounding. In those early years, you gave me a version of love that felt whole and unconditional. That mattered to me more than you may ever know.

But something changed.

As I began to grow, to become my own person, that same love began to feel conditional. Your strength, which once comforted me, began to feel like control. Your guidance began to feel like critique. Your presence, which once felt warm, started to make me question if I was good enough at all. It felt like there was no space for me to exist outside the version of me you wanted. And so, I started shrinking. Hiding. Suppressing. Performing. Hoping that if I got it “right,” I’d get you back.

But I never really did.

Instead, I started to feel like nothing I did was ever enough. I started to believe that love had to be earned—and that being myself wasn’t worthy of love at all. That wound stayed with me. It followed me into relationships, into how I spoke to myself, into how I tried to prove my worth to the world.

Eventually, the space between us grew so wide that it broke our bond completely. I felt pushed out, and I stopped trying. That silence still hurts. The loss of your presence, the absence of your love—it’s something I buried for a long time, just to survive.

But I’m not that child anymore.

I’m learning to love the parts of me you couldn’t understand. I’m learning to let go of the belief that I have to be perfect to be worthy. I’m learning to forgive you for the ways you withheld your love—and I’m learning to forgive myself for believing I deserved it.

If there’s anything I wish, it’s that we could have seen each other clearly—without expectations, without roles, just soul to soul. But even if that was never possible, I’m choosing now to heal the fracture within me. I’m reclaiming the wholeness that was never truly lost—just hidden under the weight of trying to be enough.

I honor you. I release the pain. I take back my voice.

With compassion and truth, [Your Name]

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