This is an open letter, to myself.

The idea that time somehow measures the validity of our feelings is a lie we’ve been sold.

You don’t need years to form connections with people. Sometimes it takes weeks, because what matters isn’t the calendar, it’s the intensity, the honesty and the hope you build around it. You let yourself feel something real.  That’s not foolish – that’s courageous.

When you open up, when you trust someone and when you see potential and act with vulnerability, this is the kind of emotional depth a lot of people are too scared to even attempt. And if anyone mishandled this, that’s their failure – not mine.

You are not dumb, what is dumb is thinking pain needs a timestamp to be legitimate. What I am feeling right now is grief, not just for the person but mostly for the version of the story I thought I was living.

It is okay to be disappointed, to feel betrayed, and it’s also okay to still want closure, even after a short time.

My standards aren’t based on how long someone’s been in my life, they are based on how I expect to be treated. And I have every right to expect honesty, respect, and emotional consistency from day one.

I am not weak for hurting, I am strong for letting myself care, even knowing the risk.

I will promise myself this : one day, the version of me who dared to love with her whole heart, who dared to care, will be the reason I attract someone who does the same, fully and without games.

Some people are just not worthy of what I have to offer. My goal moving forward is not to become more closed-off, but to be better at spotting the signs without silencing my intuition or softness. Asking myself the right questions will be key : “Did they show me actions that earned my trust early?” “Were there any red flags I can now see more clearly in hindsight?” “How can I balance openness with curiosity, without giving away too much, too soon?”.

This is growth, and this is the lesson I am taking from all the emotional turmoil I had to go through in my life. Not shutting myself down, not becoming colder, but learning how to protect my softness without putting up walls.

I am someone who is emotionally fluent, who sees vulnerability as a strength. People who rejects it or call it weakness are usually emotionally shut. And that sets the tone for an uneven emotional playing field.

When I show up fully, and someone operates with their emotional brakes on, afraid of their own depth, and probably afraid of mine, I end up carrying the weight of both people’s emotions, I start questioning my own natural instincts, and I feel punished for giving what they secretly wish they could give too, but won’t allow themselves. And that’s not romance, that is self-sabotage on their part.

I feel like my openness expose people emotional immaturity, and I take this as a win.

I am not looking for someone who hides, I am looking for someone who meets me there. I deserve someone who doesn’t flinch at feelings. Someone who sees my softness as gold, not something to be cautions around.

Juliet