Valentine’s Day can be a tender one. For some, it brings flowers, warmth, and a sense of being held. For others, it quietly highlights what’s missing, what’s changed, or what once was. Sometimes, it’s both at once.
If you’re someone who finds Valentine’s Day a little hard, be assured that you’re not alone. There’s nothing wrong with feeling that way. Some days simply carry more weight than others, and this one can stir things we weren’t expecting. Sometimes the heart just needs more gentleness than celebration.
And between us… I know what it’s like to wish for a little tenderness. A little softness. A sign of being held in some way.
If you’ve ever felt that too, you’re not strange or broken. You’re human.
So many women have spent years being the strong one - the capable one who holds everything together, even when things feel heavy. Yet when it comes to themselves, that same kindness can feel harder to offer.
Loving yourself first doesn’t have to look bright or confident. It doesn’t have to mean affirmations or fixing anything at all. Sometimes, it looks like allowing the ache to be there without judging it. Choosing to move more slowly. Not comparing your life to anyone else’s.
It might mean making yourself a cup of tea and sitting with it a little longer than usual. It might mean saying no to something that feels like too much. It might mean quietly acknowledging that you’re doing the best you can.
There’s a quiet strength in that kind of honesty - a self-respect that doesn’t need to be proved. You don’t have to feel whole. You don’t have to feel healed or grateful. You don’t have to reframe anything. You don’t have to make this day mean more than it does. Just being kind to yourself is enough. If no one has said it to you today: you matter.Your softness matters.Your heart, exactly as it is right now, deserves care.
I still buy myself flowers.Not because I’m alone, but because I’ve learned I deserve gentleness too.
Between us… that’s love as well.
You don’t have to do this perfectly.Just showing up for yourself, in this small way, is already an act of love.
A Quiet Invitation
If this resonates, you’re gently invited to write a simple love letter to yourself. Not to get it right, but simply to begin.
A Love Letter to Yourself
There’s no right way to write this. No right words to find. No expectation to feel anything in particular.
This is simply a quiet space. One that belongs to you.
Rather than writing about yourself, you’re being invited to write to yourself. Not the polished version. Not the one who has it all together. But the you who is here, today.
* You might choose to write to the part of you that feels tired, unseen, or unsure. Or to the version of you that has carried more than anyone realises. Or simply to yourself as you are right now.
* You don’t need to be kind straight away. You don’t need to be positive. You don’t need to make sense of things.
If it helps, you could begin with a simple opening like Dear me, and then allow the words to come in their own time.
* You might write about what’s felt heavy. What’s changed. What you miss. What you’ve had to let go of.
* You might also acknowledge what you’re proud of, even if no one else sees it. The ways you’ve kept going. The things you’ve held together. The softness you’ve protected, even when it would have been easier to harden.
There’s no need to reach a conclusion. No need to offer reassurance or answers.
This isn’t about becoming someone else. It’s about meeting yourself where you already are.
When you feel finished, you might like to read your words back, or simply fold the page and keep it somewhere safe. This letter doesn’t need to be shared. It doesn’t need to be revisited. It doesn’t need to mean anything more than it does.
Sometimes, the act of writing is enough. That, too, is a form of love.
If this letter stirred something in you, know that you don’t have to hold it alone. My work is about creating space for these quieter moments, without pressure, fixing, or needing to have answers.
If this resonated with you, you may like to get in touch and have a quiet chat. You’d be very welcome to email me at jules@juleswhale.com
You may also like to read:
* A Gentle 3 Session Journey for Women in Midlife
* Choosing Your Words Wisely. How the Language You Use Shapes Your Year