Good morning, my loves.
Today's first article is a little more personal.
Not because I think my story is unique.
But because I think many of us have lived different versions of the very same story.
There is a Latin phrase that has stayed with me for a long time:
Memento Audere Semper.
Remember to dare.
To me, those words have never simply meant taking risks.
They mean speaking when silence feels safer.
Acting when doubt has convinced you to stay still.
Choosing to become who you truly are, even when the people closest to you cannot yet see that person.
Because if we're honest, many of us didn't begin life surrounded by people who reflected back our potential.
Some of us were blessed with families who encouraged us, believed in us, celebrated every strange little dream we ever had.
Others weren't.
Some of us grew up watching our friends receive the kind of love we secretly wished for ourselves.
You'd watch a father encourage his daughter.
A mother reassure her son.
Parents telling their children, "You can do anything."
And quietly, somewhere inside, you'd wonder...
"What would it have felt like if someone had said those words to me?"
When we're children, we naturally believe the people raising us know us better than we know ourselves.
They're the first mirrors we ever look into.
So when those mirrors constantly reflect disappointment...
Or criticism...
Or comparison...
Eventually we stop questioning the mirror.
We begin questioning ourselves.
We start believing that our worth is determined by someone else's ability to recognize it.
But here's what life slowly taught me.
Being related to someone does not automatically make them the authority on your purpose.
Being loved by someone does not automatically mean they understand who you're capable of becoming.
Parents don't always know.
Friends don't always know.
Teachers don't always know.
Religious leaders don't always know.
Sometimes they genuinely want what's best for us.
Sometimes they're carrying fears that have nothing to do with us.
Sometimes they're repeating beliefs they inherited without ever questioning them.
And sometimes...
They're simply wrong.
I know that realization can feel uncomfortable because many of us were taught that questioning authority somehow meant disrespecting it.
I grew up in a deeply religious environment.
To many around me, the highest calling was to serve faithfully, follow faithfully, and fit into the expectations already laid before you.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with people who find meaning in that path.
This isn't about criticizing faith.
It's about recognizing that my own path looked different.
I've always been the child who asked too many questions.
The one who couldn't simply accept, "Because that's the way it is."
I wanted to know why.
Why this belief?
Why this rule?
Why this person?
Why this interpretation?
Questions have always felt like acts of love to me.
Not rebellion.
Curiosity.
Yet curiosity can make people uncomfortable.
Especially when it challenges systems that feel safest when nobody asks anything at all.
I remember being very young and wanting something more than almost anything.
I wanted someone I deeply admired to look at me with the same belief they seemed to have for everyone else.
There was a process where young people would answer questions before being considered ready for baptism.
I remember approaching someone I respected.
I remember hoping.
And I remember hearing words that stayed with me for years.
"You're not ready."
At that age, you don't hear one decision.
You hear a verdict about yourself.
Meanwhile, I watched others move forward.
I wondered what they had that I didn't.
For years, I believed the people closest to me must be right.
If they couldn't see value in me...
Maybe there wasn't any.
If they didn't believe I was ready...
Maybe I never would be.
If they saw me as too much...
Too loud...
Too curious...
Too different...
Then maybe becoming smaller was the answer.
So I tried shrinking.
Many of us do.
Some shrink their voice.
Some shrink their dreams.
Some shrink their intelligence.
Some shrink their joy.
Some shrink their love.
Not because they truly want to...
But because somewhere along the way, someone convinced them that being fully themselves was too much for the people around them.
Here's what I eventually discovered.
The opinions that shaped my childhood did not have to define my adulthood.
That realization changed everything.
Because destiny isn't handed to us through unanimous approval.
Purpose doesn't arrive after everyone finally agrees with us.
Worth isn't voted on.
No committee decides whether your life has meaning.
No family meeting determines what you're capable of becoming.
No organization owns your future.
Only you can decide whether you'll continue living inside someone else's description of who you are...
Or whether you'll become curious enough to discover yourself.
I've watched this happen in countless ways.
People who won't marry someone they genuinely love because their parents don't approve.
People who refuse opportunities because someone once told them they weren't smart enough.
People who silence their gifts because they learned long ago that visibility invited criticism.
Sometimes our families really do see dangers we can't yet see.
Their wisdom matters.
Their experience matters.
Listening matters.
But surrendering your entire identity to someone else's expectations is something entirely different.
Advice should inform your decisions.
It should never replace your ability to make them.
At some point, every one of us reaches a crossroads.
One path says:
"Become who everyone expects."
The other quietly whispers:
"Become who you actually are."
That second path is terrifying.
It asks us to leave behind approval we may have spent decades chasing.
It asks us to disappoint people we genuinely love.
It asks us to trust ourselves before we have evidence that anyone else will.
That...
is where courage begins.
Maybe that is what Memento Audere Semper truly means.
Not reckless bravery.
Not rebellion for its own sake.
But remembering that no matter how your story began...
No matter who underestimated you...
No matter which voices convinced you to become smaller...
You still possess the freedom to dare.
To speak.
To question.
To build.
To love.
To fail.
To begin again.
And perhaps the greatest act of courage any human being will ever perform...
Is giving themselves permission to become someone no one else could have imagined.
Umm
I know it's really easy to get lost in the whole social media thing, right?
You see somebody. You see a video, a picture, something they're writing about, the way their mind works, how they express themselves. You see all these little fragments and pieces of who they are.
But you don't see the story behind the narrative.
You don't see what happens when the camera is off.
You don't see the nights they cried.
You don't see the moments they almost gave up.
You don't see what it took for them just to become the person you're seeing today.
I don't have a big group of friends.
I don't have a huge family surrounding me, cheering me on.
Truthfully, I have two people. Two people total.
And one of those people... well, they know who they are. (LOL.)
We all have that one person we have to love with boundaries.
Not because they're necessarily a bad person, but because of what they allow into their life. Sometimes you can't keep chaos attached to you because eventually it becomes your chaos too.
That was something I had to learn.
I've always been someone who gives away my time, my energy, my heart, and my effort.
Not because I expect something in return.
But because I genuinely love people.
I care deeply.
I've never been a transactional person.
I give from a place of love.
I give from a place of abundance, not depletion.
I've been that way since I was a little girl.
And if I'm being honest, that's probably been one of my greatest lessons in life—learning that loving people and abandoning yourself are not the same thing.
I don't have this glamorous life filled with money, recognition, or people constantly telling me how amazing I am.
My life probably looks a lot more like yours than people realize.
There are people from my past who probably look at me now and think, "What the fuck happened?"
Some of us got into trouble together.
Some of the things I did when I was younger... I'm not proud of.
I was young.
I was immature.
I was learning.
And I've had to learn to give myself grace for that.
There are also relationships I left without getting the answers I wanted.
That's something I've always done.
I don't usually say goodbye.
I detach.
Not because I don't care, but because by the time I leave, I've already said everything I needed to say. I've already expressed how I felt. I've already watched the patterns repeat themselves enough to know that staying would only continue hurting me.
Sometimes leaving is the healthiest form of loving yourself.
To walk this path, I had to do something many people misunderstand.
I had to choose myself.
People often call that selfishness.
I don't.
For most of my life, I chose everyone else's opinions.
Everyone else's comfort.
Everyone else's expectations.
I spent years trying to become the version of myself that made other people comfortable.
Growing up, I constantly heard things like,
"Think about the family."
"Think about what you're doing to the family."
"Think about how this affects everyone else."
Very rarely was anyone asking,
"How is this affecting you?"
I'm not saying life should only be about me.
Of course it shouldn't.
But there were moments when accountability should have existed.
Moments when vulnerability should have existed.
Moments when the adults around me should have been willing to look honestly at what was happening instead of protecting an image.
As children, we don't understand those things.
As adults...
We begin to understand why.
I could have stayed quiet.
I really could have.
I could have hidden this part of myself.
I could have hidden the way my mind works.
The things I perceive.
The questions I ask.
The abilities I've carried since I was little.
I could have pretended to be someone easier for the world to accept.
And believe me...
There were times I wanted to.
There were moments when everything became so unbelievably difficult that I wanted to stop.
Completely.
But every single time I reached that point, something would happen.
I'd wake up.
I'd see something.
I'd feel something.
It was almost as if the universe quietly asked me,
"Are you sure?"
"Is that really who you are?"
And somehow...
Every single time...
I found a way to stand back up.
I honestly don't know how.
I just did.
I've learned to stay present even when I have absolutely no idea where life is taking me.
And that's hard.
It's incredibly hard.
To look at uncertainty...
And still dare to be yourself.
I'm doing all of this because I love you.
Whoever you are...
Wherever you are...
Whether you're reading this today or years from now...
I love you enough to tell you what I wish someone had told me.
I want to be the person I needed when I was struggling.
The person I needed when I questioned my worth.
The person I needed when I felt completely alone.
Maybe that's healing for me too.
Because sometimes this world can convince us that nobody really cares.
That nobody sees us.
That nobody gives a damn.
I know people will misunderstand me.
Some will think I'm competing with them.
Some will think I'm trying to prove something.
Some will create stories about why I do what I do.
They're free to.
But none of that can determine whether I continue walking my own path.
I've had to learn how to validate myself.
I've had to learn how to give myself grace.
And I won't pretend that journey has been easy.
It hasn't.
I'm far from perfect.
Do I want connection?
Of course I do.
I'm human...well kinda LOL.
But I will never sacrifice my values...
I will never abandon who I am...
And I will never stop standing for what I believe is right...
Just to keep a connection that requires me to lose myself.
I will always choose authenticity.
I will always choose what I believe serves the greater good—not just a select few.
There are reasons behind what I'm doing that I don't speak about yet.
One day they'll make sense.
One day I'll tell that story.
But today...
Today, I'm simply doing what I told you.
Because I believe someone out there needs to hear this.
My loves...
Please don't believe this world has run out of beauty.
Please don't believe your story is over because today hurts.
Please don't believe that your past determines your future.
Even if you're sitting in the gutter right now...
Even if you've done things you're not proud of...
Even if you've become someone you don't recognize...
You can change.
You can choose differently.
You can choose yourself.
There is no perfect moment.
There is no age requirement.
There is no point where life says you've gone too far.
There is only the choice.
And only you can make it.
No one else can.
But I also won't lie to you.
It's going to be hard.
Healing isn't easy.
Learning who you are isn't easy.
Choosing yourself isn't easy.
You didn't see all the times I cried.
You didn't see all the times I hated myself.
All the moments I judged myself.
Questioned myself.
Wondered if I was enough.
You didn't see the nights I sat in my closet crying because I was overwhelmed.
That's where I go when everything becomes too much.
It's just...
Me.
The universe.
And me...and possibly some pet I have staring at me or putting their paw under door while snot and tears cover me and am trying soo hard to not laugh...
(LOL.)
So if there's one thing I hope you take from this article...
It's this.
Please don't give up on yourself.
Don't stop believing you're worthy simply because someone else couldn't see your worth.
Keep going.
Keep becoming.
And above all...
Remember to dare.
Love Your Silvia ❤️