There is a quiet kind of power in choosing to live life on your own terms.

Not because it’s the easiest path—but because it’s the most honest one.

For a long time, I used to think that something was missing in me—something that made me different from others. I looked around at the lives being lived like clockwork: the relationships, the weddings, the settled plans, the smiles in photos. And I wondered why my heart didn’t long for the same things in the same way. Or why, when I tried to walk those familiar paths, something inside me always pulled me gently back.

Now I understand: I was never behind. I was never broken.

I was simply being called in another direction.

One that led back to myself.

The Softness I Was Told to Hide

I’ve always been someone who feels deeply. A woman who loves with her whole heart, who cries when she sees people in pain, who notices the smallest details others miss. For so long, I thought I had to apologize for that. That I needed to toughen up, to move faster, to love more cautiously. I thought my softness made me fragile. But now I know—it makes me powerful.

Because to feel deeply in a world that numbs, to love fully in a time that fears commitment, to stay open-hearted despite heartbreak—that is strength beyond measure.

And I want to use this softness, this tender strength, to inspire other women to come home to themselves too. To remind them: you do not have to harden to be taken seriously. You do not have to fit into a mold to be loved. You do not have to be partnered to be whole.

Being Single Is Not a Lack—It’s a Sacred Choice

I am single. Not by accident. Not because I’m unworthy. Not because something is wrong with me.

But because I’ve chosen to walk this season in deep alignment with my truth.

Because I want to be deeply met. Fully seen. And I won’t trade the sacredness of that desire for a relationship that simply checks boxes or calms the noise of societal pressure.

I want women to know: Being single is not a void to be filled. It can be a sanctuary. A mirror. A powerful season of becoming. It can be the most beautiful time to learn your rhythm, your magic, your voice.

It’s the space where you discover that you are not waiting for love.

You are becoming love.

Following the Heart’s Whisper Over the World’s Voice

We live in a world that tries to define a woman’s worth by her relationship status, her ability to settle down, or how well she fits into a story written by someone else. But I want to remind every woman reading this:

Your heart was not designed to follow a script.

It was designed to follow truth.

And sometimes truth leads you down a path that looks nothing like what you expected—one filled with solitude, silence, questioning, and soft awakenings. But if that path feels true, then it is sacred.

I don’t believe in pushing women to stay single or to reject love. I believe in encouraging women to choose from wholeness.

To follow the voices in their hearts, not the echoes of tradition.

To remember that true love—whether it comes through a partner, a calling, or a deep relationship with yourself—should feel like freedom, not fear.

A Love Letter to the Woman Still Finding Her Way

To the woman who wonders if she’s too much or not enough—

You are exactly who you were meant to be.

You are not late. You are not lost.

You are becoming.

Your softness is not a flaw.

Your singleness is not a failure.

Your longing is not something to suppress—it is something to listen to.

And one day, whether in your sacred solitude or in the arms of someone who truly sees you, you will realize: you never needed to chase love. You simply needed to come home to your own.

With all my heart,

Seraphine Duong

I want to live my life as an invitation—not a performance. I want to show that softness can be revolutionary. That being single can be whole. That choosing yourself is not selfish—it is sacred.

If I can inspire even one woman to walk a little softer, trust herself a little deeper, and say “yes” to a life that feels true, then my voice has done what it came here to do.

So here I am.

Soft.

Strong.

Single by choice.

And wildly in love—with the woman I’ve become.