with love, from the future

Someone wrote a letter to their younger queer self.
Today, it found you.

written at 38 · to my 21-year-old self

There's something I want you to know: the fear doesn't disappear all at once. It thins out, slowly, letter by letter, conversation by conversation, one brave Tuesday at a time, until one day you notice you've been living out loud for months and nobody flinched.

— M.

written at 2am, unable to sleep

with love,

from the future


15 letters have been left here.