Dear Me,

I truly owe you an apology, from the bottom of my aching heart.

Not for who you were, but for how long I ignored you. I’m sorry I left you alone when you were tired, stretched thin, and still showing up. I’m sorry I asked you to be strong when what you needed was rest. You were already aware, already exhausted, already carrying more than was fair, and I kept asking for more. I let your needs wait and told you they could circle back later. I told you to keep holding on. You weren’t weak. You were overwhelmed, and what you gave wasn’t returned in kind.

I mistook love for over-functioning.

I mistook loyalty for self-sacrifice.

I mistook maturity for swallowing your feelings and calling it grace.

You kept showing up for everyone else because you didn’t want to slow down, disappoint, or be seen as difficult. Somewhere along the way, peace became something you were allowed only after everyone else was okay. You stayed in places that questioned your worth. When people pulled back, you blamed yourself. You called endurance wisdom when it was actually the abandonment of self.

Let me say this clearly now: you were never too much. You were asking the wrong people. Your sensitivity was not the problem. Your depth was not the problem. Your honesty was not the problem. You did not need to shrink, soften, or bleed quietly to be loved.

I should have protected you. Instead, I normalized being drained and called it being needed.

That ends here. No longer will I abandon or ignore you. No more disappearing to keep the peace. No more bleeding quietly and calling it strength. No more mistaking self-betrayal for love. I choose you… your voice, your limits, your truth, even when it’s inconvenient, especially then. I will listen when you’re tired. I will slow down when you ask. I will not make you earn rest, safety, or care.

This is my promise to you… no longer do you have to disappear to belong. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving you again, corny but true!

With Love,

Me