“When you can’t look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark.” ~Unknown
There are moments in life when pain feels consuming—when it lingers, reshapes us, and forces us to confront parts of ourselves we’ve long avoided. Recently, I found myself in one of those moments.
I was overwhelmed, unraveling, and isolating, trying to make sense of emotions that felt heavy. In that space, I wrote this message to a close friend—someone who has stood by me through my highs and lows, yet someone I now realize I haven’t always shown up for in the way they deserved.
This is more than just a letter. It’s an acknowledgment of the weight we carry, the way we heal, and the importance of holding space for those we love.
It’s a reminder that pain doesn’t need to be rushed, that healing isn’t about fixing but about remembering we were never broken to begin with. And most importantly, it’s a promise—to my friend, to myself, and to anyone who has ever felt unseen—that we are never truly alone.
Here’s my message…
You know, these past few days, all I’ve done is sleep, think, cry, and listen to music. I haven’t left the house unless it’s for work, and even then, I feel like I’m just going through the motions.
I’ve been letting myself feel everything—choosing to sit with it—even though it’s terrifying. It feels deep and raw, and sometimes it pulls me into places so heavy, I wonder if I’ll ever find my way out. But strangely, in all of that darkness, it feels like something within me is shedding and peeling away. It’s painful, but at the same time, it’s healing. It’s the kind of pain that comes with growth, even when it doesn’t feel like it in the moment.
I know this probably sounds heavy, maybe even overwhelming, but something triggered this—something connected to an old, deeply rooted wound for me—and it’s forced me to sit with emotions I’ve been carrying for a long time. The impact I’ve had, it’s hard to explain, even to myself, but I feel like something has shifted—in life and within me.
Here’s what I’ve come to realize: Pain doesn’t need to be rushed. Healing doesn’t need to be rushed.
Sometimes, we just need to let ourselves be in our feelings, even when it’s messy and hard. And what I’ve learned is that we can hold space for our sadness without letting it define us. By sitting with it and not running away, we give it a chance to teach us something about who we are, where we’ve been, and where we’re headed.
I know sitting in it for too long isn’t healthy. But there’s a power in honoring your emotions, in giving yourself permission to feel what you feel without judgment. It’s an act of love and compassion toward yourself, a reminder that your pain is valid, your journey is valid, and you are valid.
Without diving into the whole story just yet—which I promise I’ll share with you when the time feels right—I want you to know that I see you. I appreciate your patience with me through all of this, and I need you to know how much love I have for you.
I know it hasn’t been easy for you. For a while now, there have been so many moments that have felt overwhelming, and many wounds have reopened and been re-triggered.
If I could go back, I would’ve shown up differently in every single moment you trusted me with your feelings. I would’ve made sure you never felt shame for feeling the way you did. Instead of trying to fix it, I would’ve sat with you in the discomfort and reminded you that your emotions are not a burden and that you are worthy of love even in your hardest moments.
I see now how important it is to let someone feel their feelings fully and to hold space for them without judgment or pressure. I wish I could’ve done that for you every time. But what I can do now is show you, moving forward, that not everyone will let you down. Not everyone will leave.
My love for you runs deep. I see you. I see all of you—your strength, your softness, your beauty, even in the hardest moments. And I need you to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you are loved. You are enough exactly as you are, and I am here for you. Always.
I invite you to keep sharing your feelings with me. I’ll hold space for you in the way you deserve and remind you every single day that you are loved and seen. You don’t have to carry anything alone, and there is no rush to being “okay.”
Take your time. Healing isn’t about fixing yourself—it’s about remembering that you were never broken to begin with. It’s okay to feel deeply—it’s a sign of your humanity, your courage, and your capacity to love. Be gentle with yourself. Compassion isn’t just something you give to others—it’s something you deserve to receive, especially from yourself.
And no matter how heavy things get in life, remember, you’re not alone, and healing is not linear.
I’m here, and I’ll keep showing up for you as you show up for yourself.
I love you.
About Mirsada Asipi
Mirsada Asipi lives in Iowa, born to refugee parents. Their silent struggles shaped her. She’s spent much of her life carrying the weight of things left unsaid—hers and theirs. Journaling became the one place she could be fully honest, a way to process pain, truth, and the tenderness in between. This message, like much of what she writes, is for anyone who’s ever felt unseen. You’re not too much. You’re not alone. You are, and have always been, worthy.
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