I made it here.

Entering a new year with honesty, healing and hope.

Oluwafirekunmi - The one who is a beneficiary of God's goodness.

A Letter Written Softly, On My Birthday.

Dear Fire,

I’ve been many versions of you since 2015.

Some loud with dreams,

some quiet with survival,

some unsure,

some braver than they knew.

There were years I only learned how to endure.

Years where growing up felt like losing parts of myself.

Years where I smiled for the world

and cried where no one could see.

I didn’t always know who I was becoming—

I just knew I had to keep going.

And I did.

I have carried grief, confusion, delayed answers,

and prayers that took their time.

I have learned how to sit with myself,

how to question, unlearn, rebuild.

How to be alone without being empty.

Today feels different.

Not because everything is figured out—

but because I am finally listening to myself.

I am still finding my person,

still naming my voice,

still learning how to take up space without apology.

This birthday is not about perfection.

It’s about arrival.

The quiet kind.

The kind where you step into a new year

with more truth than fear.

A new decade is opening its hands to me.

Not promising ease,

but offering possibility.

And for the first time in a long time,

I feel ready to go out into the world—

not hardened,

but honest.

Not loud,

but sure.

God, thank You for keeping me

when I didn’t know how to keep myself.

Thank You for the becoming—

slow, sacred, unfinished.

Happy Birthday, Oluwafirekunmi.

You are still healing.

Still being hopeful.

Still here.

Still becoming.

Till I write again.