My sweet girl, I’m writing to you because you deserved a letter like this decades ago. I’m sorry no one protected you. I’m sorry the people who should have loved you were the ones who hurt you. I’m sorry you learned fear before you learned safety. I’m sorry you learned shame before you learned truth. I’m sorry you had to be small to survive. I’m sorry you had to hold stories no child should ever carry. But most of all, I’m sorry you thought you were alone. You weren’t. I was there inside you, even when you didn’t know who I’d become. And I need you to hear this now: You were never broken. You were brave. You were honest. You were strong. And everything I am today is because you survived. I am building The Guardians for you. Every mile I travel is for you. Every story I write is for you. Every person I help is because I know exactly what you needed and never got. Every wheel­chair, every warm coat, every moment of presence, every story, every piece of art, every act of support — it’s all for the children trapped inside grown bodies, just like you were. You deserved safety. You deserved warmth. You deserved someone who didn’t look away. You deserved to be believed. You deserved to be helped the first time you asked. You deserved a world that protected you instead of punishing you. I can’t go back and save you. But I can save the ones who feel like you did. That is my vow to you. That is why I’m doing this. That is why I’m traveling, creating, helping, listening. Because every time I help someone else, I’m loving you the way you always needed to be loved. You are the reason for all of this. You are the root of the revolution I’m building. You are the beginning of The Guardians. And I promise you, little one — I won’t stop. Not until we’ve given the world to every child who never had one. With all the love you never received, and all the strength you passed on to me, — Me The woman you grew into. The guardian you deserved.