The Apology I Never Gave My Younger Self

The Apology I Never Gave My Younger Self

You deserved more love, more protection, and less silence from me.

by (Mujeeb ur Rahman)

Dear Younger Me,

I owe you an apology.

One I should have spoken long ago — maybe when you cried alone in your room, maybe when you looked into the mirror and didn’t like who you saw, or maybe when you held in all your pain just to make sure no one else felt uncomfortable.

I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.

You were just a child — fragile, trusting, full of wonder — and I let the world dim your light. I didn’t shield you from the hurtful words, the rejections, the people who used your kindness as a weakness. I watched you break, bit by bit, and I didn’t step in. I let you believe that you weren’t enough. That you needed to be quieter, smaller, more pleasing just to be accepted.

You thought if you were perfect, people wouldn’t leave.

You thought if you smiled enough, they’d love you.

You buried your feelings so deep, thinking silence was strength.

And I let you.

I’m sorry for all the times I made you feel like you had to earn love.

Like your worth depended on how others saw you.

You never needed to be anything more than what you already were — whole, real, and deserving.

Remember how you stayed up at night wondering what you did wrong?

When friendships ended, or love wasn’t returned, you turned the pain inward.

You made their absence your fault.

And I didn’t stop you. I didn’t hold your hand and say, “You were not the problem.”

I should have.

I let you hold guilt that wasn’t yours.

I let you carry burdens too heavy for your young shoulders.

I’m sorry I didn’t teach you that healing doesn’t mean forgetting.

It means remembering without breaking.

It means letting the pain be part of your story — not the whole story.

And I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you in my own mind.

How I criticized you for not being strong enough, confident enough, good enough.

You were doing your best with what little you had.

You survived storms others never even saw.

You were always enough.

You didn’t need to shrink yourself to fit into someone else’s world.

You didn’t need to fix what others broke in themselves.

You didn’t need to be strong all the time — crying was not weakness; it was truth.

But despite everything, you still loved.

You still dreamed.

You still hoped.

You woke up every day trying again.

Even when you were exhausted.

Even when no one noticed your quiet strength.

Even when it felt like no one ever would.

And that’s what makes me proud of you.

You kept your softness in a world that tried to make you hard.

You still found beauty in broken things.

You still believed in second chances, even when life didn’t give you many.

I should have held you closer.

I should have told you it wasn’t your fault.

I should have been kinder to the version of me that was just learning how to survive.

So, today, I’m writing this to say:

I’m sorry. I forgive you. And I love you.

I love your gentleness.

I love your curiosity.

I love the way you felt everything so deeply.

Those weren’t flaws — they were superpowers.

You weren’t too emotional.

You weren’t too sensitive.

You were real. And that scared people who weren’t ready to be.

From now on, I promise to protect you.

To stand up for you.

To listen when you’re scared.

To never let anyone make you feel less again — not even me.

You deserved better.

And now, I will be better — for you.

With all my heart,

The version of you that finally understands