The Words I Never Said: A Letter to the Girl I Used to Be

There was a time I lived for everyone but myself.

I smiled on cue.
I said “yes” when my soul screamed “no.”
I played the part—perfect daughter, ideal wife, dependable friend.
And somewhere along the way, I disappeared.

Looking back, I wish I could wrap that girl in my arms and whisper all the things she was too afraid to say out loud. So this blog post is for her—for the version of me (and maybe you) who was doing what she was supposed to do, rather than what she needed to do.

I never said… “This isn’t what I want.”
Because I didn’t know what I wanted. I only knew what was expected of me. I followed the path paved by other people’s opinions, thinking if I got it all “right,” I’d finally feel enough. But no amount of approval ever filled the ache of self-abandonment.

I never said… “I’m drowning.”
Because I was afraid that asking for help would make me weak. So I kept showing up, performing, pretending. I buried my truth under to-do lists and polite smiles, terrified of the silence that might follow if I actually spoke my pain.

I never said… “This hurts.”
Because I thought love meant endurance. That being “strong” meant staying quiet. But ignoring pain doesn't heal it—it buries it alive. And buried pain has a way of seeping out in anxiety, in resentment, in waking up one day wondering whose life you’re living.

I never said… “I deserve more.”
Because I didn’t believe I did. I thought choosing myself would make me selfish. But let me tell you something I’ve learned the hard way: choosing yourself isn’t selfish—it’s sacred. It’s how you teach the world to treat you. It’s how you come back home to who you really are.

I never said… “No.”
Not when I should have. Not when I wanted to. Not when saying “yes” meant betraying myself. I gave parts of me away, piece by piece, until I barely recognized the woman in the mirror. My boundaries were whispers, my needs an afterthought.

But today, I say the words I never said.

I say them for the woman I used to be, and the woman I’m still becoming.
I say them for you, if you’re reading this with tears welling in your eyes because you know.
I say them because silence doesn’t serve us anymore.

You are allowed to speak up.
You are allowed to change your mind.
You are allowed to disappoint others in order to stay true to yourself.

And most of all?
You are allowed to take your voice back.

So here’s to the words we never said—and to the power we find when we finally do.

Now I ask you: What are the words you haven’t said? And what would change if you said them today?

You’re not alone. Not anymore.