Before I was bold, I was curious. Before I was brave, I was questioning. Before I was whole, I was wondering what “whole” even meant.
The little girl, the teenager, the young woman— each one asked, Who am I? What’s next? Is there more? And each one believed, even in the quiet, that more was coming—and it would be better.
Today, I pause to thank them. Not just for surviving, but for dreaming. Not just for asking, but for listening. Not just for becoming, but for believing.
Which of the prisms of me do you know, or relate to?
The little girl, teenager, and young woman were all questioning who they were, their purpose, always asking what was next!
Believing there was more, and it was better.
I was becoming bolder and braver.
Go through the scrapbooks of your life. Each version of self envisioned, questioned, and wondered what the future would look like.
1. Drop a word in the comments that describes your boldest self.
Let’s build a mosaic of becoming—one word, one woman, one prism at a time.
2. Invite a siSTAR to reflect with you.
Tag someone who’s walked beside you through your becoming. Let her know she’s part of your story.
3. Share a snapshot from your scrapbook of self.
A photo, a journal line, a memory—what did she believe about the future? What did she get right?
4. Tag the version of you that needed this reminder.
Was she the dreamer, the doubter? Let her know she’s still part of your becoming.
5. Write a letter to one version of you.
Thank her. Challenge her. Celebrate her. Post a line or two that still echoes in your heart.
Gratitude for Each Version of Self
To the little girl: Thank you for your wild wonder, your messy magic, your fearless questions. You taught me how to imagine beyond the edges.
To the teenager: Thank you for your fire, your ache, your longing to belong. You taught me how to feel deeply and rise anyway.
To the young woman: Thank you for your leaps, your losses, your sacred stumbles. You taught me how to walk with grace, even when the path was unclear.
To the woman I am now: Thank you for choosing softness and strength. For seeing through the eye of Kintsugi. For becoming, not perfect, but golden.
To my future self—
I see you. Not as someone far away, but as someone I’m already becoming. You are the woman who kept walking. Who honored every version of me, the little girl, the seeker, the storyteller. You wear your scars like gold. You speak with the voice we once whispered. You are not perfect, but you are whole.
I thank you—for choosing softness, for choosing strength, for choosing to rise.
To my Kintsugi siSTARS
You are the circle that holds me. The mirror that reflects me. The firelight that reminds me: I am never alone.
Together, we’ve stitched our stories into sacred seams. We’ve written truth into journals and joy into movement. We’ve honored the cracks, the questions, the quiet becoming.
So let us keep rising. Let us keep remembering. Let us keep shining—golden, broken, beautiful.
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