my grams used to write notes on leaves for me, and leave them in her garden to find. they always said something along the lines of ‘you are loved’ and ‘you are beautiful and always will be’. she used to say that the fairies left them, and i used to nod, but hugged her extra tightly.
such a beautiful story
You are allowed to grieve the years you lost to mental illness. You’re allowed to be mad that it happened to you. You’re allowed to pine after the person you might have been had it been different. But don’t let that get in the way of your growing into your new self and following a wholly new path for your life.