Smile, Live a Little…

 Dear You,

When was the last time you laughed—not politely, not to be social—but from somewhere deep inside? The kind of laugh that bubbles up without warning, that makes you throw your head back, forget the time, and feel like yourself again?

If it’s been a while, this letter is for you.

I know life can feel impossibly serious sometimes. There are bills to pay, hearts to protect, responsibilities that stretch us thin, and quiet burdens we rarely name out loud. And somewhere in the middle of all that striving, we forget the small, sacred act of letting ourselves just live.

We get so caught up in “being strong” or “getting through the day” that we forget we’re allowed to smile. We forget we’re allowed to enjoy something without justifying it. We forget that play is not just for children. That spontaneity isn’t irresponsible. That laughter can be medicine.

So today, I want to gently remind you: you’re allowed to live a little.

You’re allowed to put the to-do list down and dance in your kitchen while the rice is boiling. You’re allowed to wear the bold lipstick, buy the flowers, or take yourself out for coffee just because it’s Tuesday. You’re allowed to giggle at silly videos, say no to things that drain you, and say yes to things that make no sense except they make you happy.

You’re allowed to make room for joy—not the big, perfect, Instagrammable kind,
I’m talking about the quiet, soft kind of joy that creeps in when you’re not trying so hard. The joy of a morning sunbeam, a warm bath, an unexpected compliment, or a memory that still makes you smile years later.

Sometimes, living a little looks like resting. Other times, it looks like adventure. But always—it begins with giving yourself permission to step outside the script. To breathe. To remember that your worth isn’t measured by productivity. That your soul needs lightness too.

This isn’t about pretending things are okay when they’re not. It’s about remembering that even when things are hard, there can still be moments of light. That joy and grief can exist in the same breath. That smiling doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten the struggle—it just means you’ve remembered your humanity.

So if today feels heavy, do one small thing that feels like life. Listen to your favorite song. Send a silly voice note to a friend. Make a cup of tea and sit in the sun. Let the world wait while you choose something soft, something lovely, something yours.

Smile, even if it’s faint.
Live, even if it’s slow.
And remind yourself that joy is not something you have to earn.
It’s something you’re allowed to feel—right now, right here.

With warmth and light,

Marguerite

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