In this first entry of The Healing Diary series, “Dear Baby Girl” is a letter to my younger self. It’s a reflection on identity, emotional healing, and the power of naming who we truly are. A sacred reminder that we were always enough and that we are born whole.
Dear Baby Girl,
I saw your name for the first time. Typed out. Official. Ms. Baby Girl Freeman. You were real. You are real. And I want to take a moment to meet you—not as a memory, but as a miracle.
You didn’t have a name for a while. And now I understand that. No one had the language yet to name someone like you. The softness and fire. The wisdom and wonder. They hadn’t met the fullness of your spirit. But I have now. And I see you completely.
For the record, your birth time was 9:43 p.m. Not in the middle of the night like they thought, but in the magic hour when the veil is thin and the sky starts whispering its secrets.
That night, the stars placed Sagittarius on the horizon. You came in laughing, feet first into fire, with a hunger for truth and a wildness that wouldn’t be tamed. It makes sense now: why freedom is your love language, why you walk away when something feels false, why you need to say the things no one else will say.
You came here to expand. To learn, to teach, to roam, to rise. You weren’t meant to stay small.
And I know this time of year brings up a lot. Mother’s Day. Your birthday. The decisions. The boundaries. The ache. But none of that erases this truth: You were born whole, even without a name. You were always enough. You were always meant to be you.
So here’s to the baby girl with no name, and the woman who named herself. You are not lost. You are found. Dear Baby Girl, this is the beginning of your healing. The moment you write yourself into existence.
And now, we begin again. Under your own stars. On your own terms.
A Sagittarius rising, lighting fires everywhere she goes.
With love,
Monique
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