Okay, so re-reading my last blog, I feel like I only scratched the surface of a deeper issue.
The case-building structure my own brain seemed geared to build a case against me.
Was it the product of previous unhealthy relationships in my life?
Not just romantic ones — friendships, family dynamics, environments where approval sometimes felt uncertain.
Honestly, when I think about it now, I want to go back in time and give younger me a great big hug.
She was full of so much deep-rooted fear, and such a strong desire to be approved of… to be deeply loved.
It’s not that she didn’t love herself at all.
It’s that she didn’t know how to forgive herself when she failed.
She wanted stability.
She wanted growth.
She wanted harmony.
She genuinely wanted to do good for others as well.
But it’s almost as if she could never quite succeed at being the person she envisioned herself becoming — because she didn’t yet know how.
And letting things go?
That rarely came quietly.
It often came with a storm of emotion.
Self-blame.
Pain.
Long stretches of wondering what she had done wrong.
Looking back now, it almost feels like she was quietly asking every person around her the same question:
Please tell me I’m good enough.
Please tell me there’s something special about me.
Please tell me you see me.
Please tell me there’s something about me worth saving.
Lately I’ve been wondering if those strange memory replays stuck around for a reason.
Not because they prove something terrible about me.
But because they remind me of a version of myself who was still trying to figure out who she was allowed to be.
A version of me that kept looking outward for confirmation she was okay.
And when I think about that younger version of myself now, I don’t feel annoyed with her the way I used to.
Mostly I just want to sit next to her for a minute.
Tell her she doesn’t have to keep gathering evidence about her own worth.
Tell her the whole world isn’t secretly keeping score.
But of course life doesn’t really work like that.
You don’t get to go back and reassure the person you used to be.
But you can sit beside the person you are today.
You can see the potential in who she is becoming.
You can affirm it.
Validate it.
You can remind her that everything is going to be alright.
Because there is evidence now.
Evidence that you are worthy.
Evidence that even when you make mistakes, you keep trying to do your best.
Evidence that even when life didn’t turn out the way you once imagined, you still look for the silver lining.
You still search for the remaining rays of hope.
Maybe that’s enough.
Just maybe.
Because there was a time when I don’t think I could have said or done that.
I was my own worst enemy.
And when you think about it, that’s a strange badge of honor to carry — being the person who fought yourself harder than anyone else ever did.
So I’m curious.
If you could sit beside the younger version of yourself for a few minutes…
What would you say?
