HIMANI NARAIN

HEY!!

Okay now that you are in this section… I can finally tell you why these.

Why these specific things.

Why this specific way…

Every gift here is a mirror — not of what someone thinks you should be,

but of what you already are.

Pieces of you, reflected back at you, through things that hold the same softness, depth, and quiet magic that you carry in your everyday life.

The Outdoors Edition Art Kit

This one is for the part of you that rebuilds yourself quietly.

The part that takes small, almost invisible moments

and somehow turns them into something whole again.

You've never needed grand gestures to become who you are —

just tiny choices, tiny strengths, tiny pieces of courage

placed gently, day after day,

until they form a version of you no one else could have created.

This kit is a reminder of that:

that your beauty comes together slowly,

that healing is built in moments,

that every small piece of you matters,

and that you're allowed to take your time

to become something breathtaking.

The Sunflower Tote

Sunflowers always turn toward the light —

and somehow, you've always carried a bit of light without even realising it.

Not the loud, bright, spotlight-kind of light.

Yours is softer.

The kind that settles into a room and makes it calmer.

The kind that makes people feel safe enough to be themselves.

The tote is simple… but that's the point.

Your warmth is simple too —

honest, natural, effortless.

The Mug

"So happy you exist."

This isn't just a quote.

It's the kind of sentence that fits perfectly next to a person who brings comfort without trying.

It's for someone who might not always hear appreciation in words,

but deserves to.

It's for someone who pours kindness into others,

but forgets to save some for herself.

It's for someone whose presence feels like a warm drink on a heavy day —

quiet, grounding, soothing.

The Gratitude / Playful Journal

This is for the part of you that is layered —

the part that feels deeply, thinks deeply, cares deeply.

You have colours within you that even you don't always see.

This journal is not just to write in…

It's to remind you that your story has texture, emotion, humour, softness and strength —

all existing together without needing to be explained.

The bold design reflects the truth you sometimes forget:

you are more vibrant and multifaceted than you give yourself credit for.

The Sunflower

This one represents something very real about you —

that the strongest, brightest parts of you are made of small pieces.

Little habits, small memories, tiny joys, quiet battles,

things no one saw you overcome.

You're made of pieces you assembled yourself.

Slowly.

Patiently.

Sometimes painfully.

But beautifully.

This sunflower doesn't fade…

and neither does the resilience you've built over time.

And then —

the domain, the space, the website with your name.

This is because your existence deserves space.

Your presence deserves to be seen.

Everything you are — your softness, your thoughts, your depth, your style —

deserves a place that reflects you without filters, without noise, without comparison.

A place that says,

"This is a person who matters.

This is a person who carries stories worth keeping."

This section, this letter…

It exists for one reason:

so you can finally read something that speaks to you,

not about you.

Something that doesn't ask anything of you,

doesn't demand anything from you —

just holds a mirror up quietly and lets you see yourself.

You deserve to feel understood.

You deserve to feel recognised.

You deserve to feel like someone gets you —

your softness, your depth, your layers, your quiet strength.

And if reading this makes even a small part of you feel

seen

or

valued

or

good enough just as you are—

then that's all this was meant to do.

And there's something else.

Something this space finally lets me say gently, without interruption.

You've walked through life with more weight than you let people see.

You've held yourself together in moments where most people would fall apart.

You've survived days no one will ever know about.

You've been alone in situations where you deserved support.

You've been strong in ways no one ever thanked you for.

And even when life has been heavy,

you've still shown kindness, softness, and light.

And because of that, you deserve something rare —

a presence that stays quietly,

without demanding,

without overwhelming,

without making you feel like you owe anything.

So let me say this as simply as possible:

I am here.

Even if you don't notice…

I am.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Not in a way that interrupts your world —

but in a way that lets you move at your own pace,

feel at your own depth,

and exist without pressure.

And for someone like you —

someone who has carried so much alone — I'm there.

Because someone like you deserves care that is patient,

quiet,

gentle,

and consistent —

the kind of care you've always given,

but rarely received.

Happy Birthday.

You're a rare kind of person.

And the world is softer, warmer, and more beautiful because you're in it.