A Love Letter from the Woman I’m Becoming

Dear Self, I had such high expectations. I wanted to move out of my father’s house at 18. Buy my first car by 20. Be working, impacting lives by 22. Be Ghana’s youngest lawyer by 23 — that title meant everything (ask me how that turned out). Own a house by 25. Be married by 26. Build my company by 28. Celebrate my 30th birthday in grand style. These were timelines I set for myself. Have I met any of them? No. Am I happy about it? Not really. But I am… content. Growing up, I had a lot of misconceptions. I believed material acquisition determined my worth. That money would earn me respect. That happiness was buried in possessions. It made sense — I lived in an environment where only the rich were honored. People loved only when there was something to gain. I learned too early that others would find you useful only if they could use you. It hurt. I blamed myself for their inability to give genuine love. Maybe if I’d come from a rich or prominent family… maybe then, they’d have treated me better. But life taught me: People are who they are, no matter who you are. You can give someone everything — love, light, loyalty — and still be abandoned when the storm hits. There were days I didn’t feel good enough. Days I asked, “Why me?” Other days, I saw hope and held onto it with bleeding fingers. But one of the sweetest bitter truths I’ve learned is: I’m not in competition with anyone. Life isn’t a race. My only aim… is to be better than yesterday. Dear Self, I love you more than you can imagine. It’s taken tears and time to arrive at this place of acceptance — where I’m finally comfortable with who God created me to be. I’ve never fit in. I’ve questioned myself over and over. Why am I always too vocal, too opinionated, too different? Why can’t I follow instructions without questioning them? Why do I always get reactions that feel… wrong? I’ve tried to be quiet — even that drew concern. Deep down, I was lost. Lonely. That loneliness turned into rebellion. I fought anyone who tried to control me. I wore toughness like armor, but I desperately wanted to be loved and understood. Some pretended to understand. Then they abused that trust. And I couldn’t tell anyone. Who would believe me? I’m learning now. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me. I’m perfectly imperfect. I’m loud. I’m strong. I’m bubbling with fire — and I love that. I’ve accepted that it’s not my fault others mistreated me. If someone walked away, it was their choice. I am not their choice. I am worthy of love — the kind that sees me, holds me, stays. To Self: I’m so sorry. For the years I made us feel small. For not being strong enough. For believing the lies — that we weren’t enough, wouldn’t succeed, wouldn’t matter. I’m sorry it took me this long to see what God had already planted in me: Potential. Gifts. Light. Purpose. But here’s what I’m not sorry for: The lessons. The wisdom. The heartbreak and healing. The beautiful souls I met. Even the ones who left. Self, I promise you — the best days are ahead. Nowhere in my story will it be said that I gave up. Today I understand: Life is 10% what happens to us, and 90% how we respond. I’ve played the victim. I’ve been angry. Neither served me. Now I choose love. I choose to give what I didn’t receive. Because everyone is hurting. And hurt people hurt people — it’s the only language they know. But I can change that. I choose healing. I choose authenticity. I choose light. “To the person who hasn’t been yourself lately — it’s going to get better. Things will fall into place. Mountains will move. Relationships will heal. Happiness will be restored.” — Keion Self, you are loved. You are cherished. You are adored. You are deeply cared for. Let this remind you: A raindrop from the sky — if caught by clean hands, is pure enough to drink. If it falls in the gutter, its value drops. But on a lotus leaf, it shines like a pearl. And in an oyster… it becomes one. The drop is the same. But its worth depends on what receives it. Be the reason someone becomes a pearl. Your mission is simple and sacred: Find peace with exactly who and what you are. Take pride in your thoughts, your beauty, your gifts, your flaws. And stop worrying that you can’t be loved as you are. Who am I? I am beauty refined. I am a mirror of God’s glory. I am both sun and moon. I am a lioness — fierce with protection, gentle with love. I have been lied to, manipulated, broken… But I am not my mistakes. I am a child of the Most High. Saved daily by grace. Anchored in His love. The apple of His eye. A queen — because my Father is King. I am just an ordinary girl… Loved by an extraordinary God.

Lamisi Pudada

5/8/20241 min read

Dear Self