Dear Me,
I think about you sometimes. The version of me who tried so hard to be enough. The girl who smiled through exhaustion, who kept saying she was fine while quietly falling apart inside. You were gentle, hopeful, and so willing to see the good in people who didn’t always deserve that kind of grace.
You deserved better than the way you were treated. You deserved love that felt safe, not like a guessing game. You deserved to rest without guilt, to cry without feeling weak, to take up space without apologizing. But no one told you that then. You were too busy trying to keep everyone else comfortable.
I wish you could see yourself the way I see you now. You were never too sensitive or too demanding. You just wanted to be understood. You wanted to be held in the same way you held everyone else. And you kept showing up, even when no one showed up for you. That was strength, even if it didn’t feel like it at the time.
I am sorry for every time I ignored your needs. For every time I chose silence when you deserved to speak. For every time I tried to fix others instead of protecting you. You were never the problem. You were just trying to survive in a world that made you feel like being soft was a flaw.
You deserved gentleness. You deserved patience. You deserved to be loved without having to earn it. And I promise that the woman I am now will make sure you finally get that.
With love,
The one you grew into