Letters to Viv: You’re Not Healing, You’re Being Forged
Every strike, every heat, every moment you want to quit is shaping you into something powerful enough to carry courage.
Letters to Viv
Open, soul-packed letters to the kind of human I write for: the curious, creative, exhausted by the hustle, and craving something more. I’m writing to you (and me).
Dear Viv,
You’re not healing right now. You’re being forged.
Healing is soft beds and sage sticks. Forging is hammers and fire. One soothes. The other sears. Both transform, but in different ways. This isn’t rest right now. This is reshaping. And it’s sacred work.
You’re the forge and the fire, the metal and the one shaping it. Even when the hammer feels too heavy to lift, even when your hands ache and you want to set it down, you are closer than you think. The hardest strike is often the one right before the blade is ready.
I know it feels endless. Like you’re being taken apart more than you’re being built. But this is how strength is made. Real strength. Not the kind that hardens you against life, but the kind that lets you stand steady in it.
Metal doesn’t become strong by staying comfortable. It is heated until it glows, cooled until it hardens, and struck again and again until it holds its shape. That’s how it becomes a sword. Something powerful enough to protect. Something that gives courage to the one who carries it.
You’re being made into something you haven’t fully met yet.
And even in this messy middle, you are already carrying the shape of who you’re becoming.
This part isn’t meant to be pretty. Forging never is. Blades are ugly and beaten before they are sharp enough to shine. But when this part is done, you will hold yourself differently. You’ll feel it in your hands. In your bones.
I believe in you. I can feel the strength you’re becoming.
Keep going, Viv. I’m right beside you, fire and all.
xo,
Tanya
Yes, keep going!