If Only I Were Perfect

💔 New episode: If Only I Were Perfect: A Letter of Love, Loss, and Learning
This one is personal. A letter I never sent, shared from the heart.
It’s about grief, regret, healing… and the slow, beautiful work of becoming.
Thank you for holding space with me. 💛 

Hi friends,
 Today’s episode is a little different. It’s more personal… more of a letter than a lesson. I’ve been reflecting on some things I’ve carried quietly — things I haven’t fully shared, maybe because I wasn’t ready.
 But lately, the messages I’ve been offering others — about growth, about healing, about grace — have started to echo back at me. So this is me answering that call.
 This episode is called “If Only I Were Perfect: A Letter of Love, Loss, and Learning.”
It’s tender, it’s honest, and I might get emotional as I read. That’s okay. If you’ve ever lost someone, made a mistake, or wished for a chance to do things differently, maybe this will speak to you too.
Here’s my letter.

Transcript

Hi friends,
 Today’s episode is a little different. It’s more personal… more of a letter than a lesson. I’ve been reflecting on some things I’ve carried quietly — things I haven’t fully shared, maybe because I wasn’t ready.
 But lately, the messages I’ve been offering others — about growth, about healing, about grace — have started to echo back at me. So this is me answering that call.
 This episode is called “If Only I Were Perfect: A Letter of Love, Loss, and Learning.”
It’s tender, it’s honest, and I might get emotional as I read. That’s okay. If you’ve ever lost someone, made a mistake, or wished for a chance to do things differently, maybe this will speak to you too.
Here’s my letter.

Dear Friends and Family,

I’ve been thinking lately —
 Maybe I owe you an apology.

Or perhaps it’s more of an explanation.

I’ve been sharing so much on my podcast,
 Encouraging others to dig deep,
 To grow from life’s challenges,
 To become better versions of themselves.

And now…
 I realize all those messages I’ve been putting out into the world
 Are finally circling back to me.

The other night I had a dream.
 An old friend showed up —
 Someone I haven’t seen in years.

After Casey passed,
 I was grieving deeply.

And in the midst of all that pain,
 I said something I shouldn’t have.

That moment ended our friendship.

At the time, I couldn’t see clearly.
 The grief, the isolation,
 The aftermath of COVID —
 It all blurred my judgment.

We had just moved to a new town
 Right before the world shut down.

I didn’t have a local support system yet.
 I was lonely.

And honestly,
 I didn’t know how to fix that.

In the years since,
 I see now that I expected others to step in
 And ease that emptiness.

But the truth is —
 That was never anyone else’s responsibility.

It was mine.

Isn’t hindsight just so wise?

Losing Casey changed everything.

I never really understood
 What it meant for someone to lose a partner —
 Not until I went through it myself.

The silence.
 The ache.
 The disorientation
 Of waking up to a life you no longer recognize.

Trying to make new friends at 65 isn’t simple.

Putting yourself out there,
 Learning to go to the movies alone,
 Eating dinner at a table set for one.

Watching your couple friends gather without you —
 Not out of malice,
 But because you’re now a “single,”
 Not a “pair.”

There are so many moments
 I wish I could go back and redo.

Where I could have been more compassionate,
 More present,
 More aware of what others might have been going through.

I think —
 Maybe this journey I’ve been on
 Will help me be more sensitive,
 More supportive going forward.

Please understand —
 This letter isn’t meant to make anyone feel bad.

If anything,
 I want to say thank you.

Thank you to those who showed up.
 Who stayed.
 Who offered kindness
 Even when I didn’t know how to receive it.

Thank you for your patience,
 Your grace,
 And your time.

Some days,
 I still fall apart.

I have my “feel sorry for me” days.

I cry.
 My heart aches.

And you know what?
 I’ve learned — that’s okay.

It means I’m human.
 It means I loved deeply.

And I’m proud of myself
 For allowing those feelings to be felt.

Writing Being Mary
Was my way of processing
The first 65 years of my life.

But in looking back,
 I’ve come to realize
 I was sometimes insensitive to people I loved —

The real characters
 Who made up the story of my life.

If that includes you,
 I’m sorry.

Life isn’t easy.

We don’t always know the right thing to do or say.

And if only I were perfect,
 Maybe I would’ve done it all better.

But I’m learning.
 And I’m growing.

Still.

With love,
 Mary

Thank you for listening to “If Only I Were Perfect: A Letter of Love, Loss, and Learning.”
This wasn’t easy to share, but I believe there’s healing in telling the truth — not just the polished parts, but the honest, messy ones.
If anything I said today reminded you of your own story… of something you’ve been carrying… I hope you know you’re not alone.
We’re all figuring this out as we go. And perfection? It was never the goal.
I’m grateful for your time, your heart, and the space we’ve created here together.
Until next time — Keep walking and be kind to yourself. We’re all still becoming.