A Letter to the Person I Used to Be

Dear Me,

I don’t write to you often — mostly because I’ve been too busy trying to survive, adapt, prove, and protect. But today, I felt you. In the silence between tasks. In the ache behind my smile. In the mirror, when I almost didn’t recognize who I’d become. So this is a letter to you — the person I used to be.

You Were Softer — And I Miss That

You felt everything so deeply. A simple song could make you cry. A kind word could light up your whole day. You trusted easily. Loved completely. Believed that people always meant what they said.

But then, life happened. you learned that not every friend stays. That some smiles hide lies. That love, no matter how honest, doesn’t always last. And piece by piece, your softness became silence. Your lightness became walls.

You Were Brave — Even When You Were Scared

You tried, even when you didn’t know the outcome. You said yes to things that scared you. You dreamed, wildly, without asking if it was realistic. You failed — yes — but you always got up. I’ve forgotten how to do that sometimes. I overthink. I plan too much. I fear starting because failure now feels heavier. But you? You weren’t afraid to fall, because you hadn’t yet learned to hate yourself for falling.

You Didn’t Pretend to Be Fine. You cried when you needed to. You asked for help. You weren’t ashamed of being tired or lost. Somewhere along the way, I became someone who smiles through pain. Someone who says “I’m okay” even when the storm is loud inside.

I miss your honesty. Your courage to say, “I’m not fine today.”

Life Changed You — And That’s Okay

There was a time I blamed the world for breaking you. But now I know — you weren’t broken. You were being reshaped. You had to become someone stronger. Someone who doesn’t get swept away by every wave. You grew boundaries. You learned to say no. You started protecting your peace — not just your people.

I’m proud of that. I’m proud of who you became, even if it meant losing some parts of who you were.

But I’m Still Carrying You With Me

No matter how many masks I wear, you’re still under them. Every time I help someone, every time I write something raw, every time I sit quietly and feel — that’s you. You didn’t disappear. You just took a quieter seat in the room. And I’m learning to invite you back. Gently. Not to take over, but to remind me that it’s okay to be soft again. It’s okay to feel without shame. To rest. To trust. To love, even after everything.

If I Could Tell You One Thing…

You didn’t fail. You didn’t lose. You simply grew.

And I’m sorry for the times I tried to bury you in guilt, regret, or shame. You were only ever trying your best — with what you knew, with what you had, with the heart you carried.

So thank you — for being the beginning of me. I promise I won’t forget you again. Love, Me

💭 Final Words

If you’ve ever felt like you lost yourself, know this: You didn’t. You’re still there — just buried under layers of survival.

Peel them back slowly. Speak gently to your past. And if no one ever told you: You’re allowed to change — without losing your worth.

🖋️ Thank you for reading.

If this letter spoke to your heart, feel free to leave a comment or share it with someone else who might need to reconnect with who they used to be.

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