Letters to Myself: Healing Behind Walls

To the New Wall Built Me

by Jadae Bradley

you’re hurt.

you were not dumb,

you are enough.

you were just taken advantage of,

and the hurt of being taken advantage of

and trying to change things

that are out of your control

made you who you are today.

you’re hurt.

no matter how much you tried

to make sure everyone else was good,

you had barely anybody to ask,

“are you okay?”

you were taken advantage of at a young age,

not knowing any better —

but that’s life.

so you built a wall of protection

to not let nobody in,

to not let your heart or feelings get involved too much,

because…

you’re hurt.

and when you do try to open up,

it’s nothing but a second

before you turn around

and use the worst coping method possible

to run away from it.

you’re hurt.

you were disappointed

by people around you your whole life,

told “I’ll give you something to cry about,”

because you had nobody to talk to,

and crying was your only outlet

to get your feelings out.

you’re hurt.

you don’t know how to understand

who’s real and who’s not,

because even when you have

genuine intentions toward everybody,

it’s always somebody

with a secret motive toward you.

you’re hurt.

you’re tired of covering up every emotion,

and now you can’t access them —

can’t feel loved

or anything toward anybody,

because your emotions are so far gone.

and then again, it’s because…

you’re hurt.

no matter how much you try

to stop coping in the worst way possible,

you run back to it every time.

and you know why?

because…

you’re hurt.

you wrote this in 2022.

it’s 2025 — you’re 19 now,

and you came back to this poem

because healing journeys are never easy.

but hey,

you made it to 19,

even though you’ve tried

to take your life multiple times.

but again,

you are here in this poem.

and you know why?

you’re still hurt.

we went to college — hey, we’re still here.

but as the days go by,

you feel alone.

instead of studying

and thinking about class,

you try to find a way

to distract yourself from reality —

whether it’s smoking, partying, or drinking —

just to pass out and leave reality,

to let time go by

so you won’t have time to think.

and again, I know —

you’re still hurt.

and as you’re writing this,

you’re still shaken

that you still feel the same.

the only difference is

you’re sexually active now —

I mean, hypersexual —

because people took advantage of your body.

the only time you feel

any sort of affection or love

is when you give them what they want,

so they won’t leave.

they tell you sweet lies

that make you feel so good in the moment,

but you know

it’s just to reach their goal.

maybe they’ll hold you along the way.

and even though you stopped,

that doesn’t matter —

because you know

it all added on.

and in the end,

you’re still hurt.

when you finally found someone

who was genuine,

you pushed them away

and made them sad —

which were never your intentions.

you found someone

you genuinely loved

and screwed it up

because of the lust

of being hypersexual,

and not wanting

to let those emotions out again.

it’s not an excuse —

hurt people hurt people.

and as bad as you pray for that person,

you don’t want to reach out

because you contributed to that hurt.

you pray for their healing,

but deep down, you know

reaching out would only cause

the same pain

that was inflicted on you.

you’re still hurt.

you never stopped being

that sweet little girl deep down.

that’s why this poem

is named To the New Wall Built Me.

not because you wanted

to build a wall —

you just wanted to be understood,

to feel genuinely loved,

treated right,

and to have the happiest,

most successful life

you could ever dream of.

a girl can dream.

but as of now,

you’re still hurt.

you got taken out of church for a while,

trying to find a way back to God again.

but it’s not like you ever stopped praying—

you just slowly started losing your religion,

because the only thing in your face

was hurt and despair

that you held onto,

looking past everything around you.

but can I blame you?

you’re still hurt.

“Wanna Be Happy” by Kirk Franklin

is your comfort song,

because the message is so strong.

you really only wanna be happy,

so you listen over and over again,

hoping the message replays in your head,

so maybe you can follow the steps

to help you live a happy life.

so you can go on about your day,

hold that to your heart,

and let your heart and mind become one.

this message is to the new wall built me.

one day, we will not hurt.

one day,

we’ll bring that precious little girl

back to the surface —

and she’ll be the happiest,

most successful, loved,

and caring person around.

but as of now,

finishing this poem…

WE’RE still hurt.