Letter to a girl I used to know

Dear One,

I'm so sorry.  I'm sorry you were hurt by careless comments and childish cruelty.  I'm sorry you were wounded so deeply.  I'm sorry there was no one there to see you, to comfort you, to hold you, to counteract the bad information you received.  I wish it could have been different.  If I could I would give you that someone you need.  I would give you an invisible suit of armor that would protect you from all the hurtful comments.  I would give you a safe place.  I would give you so much love.  If I could I would change it for you.  I would re-write the story.

I saw how those words buried themselves below your skin and into your mind.  I saw how you carried them around, so heavy.  I saw the shame and embarrassment you felt.  I saw how it turned you against yourself.  I'm so sorry.  I'm sorry she said that to you.  I'm sorry they laughed.  I'm sorry you felt so small and unacceptable.  I'm sorry they made you want to hurt yourself.  I'm sorry you learned to loathe yourself.  I'm sorry you ever thought about dying or disappearing.  I'm sorry you ever wanted to be someone else, that your vision of yourself was clouded by shame.  I'm sorry you felt the need to erase yourself, to become invisible.  I'm sorry the truth of who you are got lost in the carelessness and that you forgot your beauty, that you stopped believing in your beauty.  I'm so sorry.  And most of all I'm sorry that I still look at you and can't see it, that I can't say anything to help heal you because I still have problems believing you are beautiful.  I know how you hurt and I feel terrible that I can't offer you anything more than "I'm sorry."  I'm sorry I can't see beyond your size, your weight, your unruly hair.  I wish I were better than that and I'm not.  I want to be the person who can look at you and say, "Ah, here it is.  See it?  Look at all this beauty.  It's right here," and I'm not that person.  I'm sorry I have such a hard time accepting you, that I still look at you and dislike what I see.  I'm so, so sorry.

Since I can't give that to you I want there to be someone, something, that can.  I want to believe god exists because I want to know there is something greater that can give you what I can't.  I want to believe that god exists because I want to believe there is a power than can change me, that can change the way I see you.  I want to believe god exists because I want to have something to pray to.  I need to be able to say, "God, please help me see her beauty because I don't.  I only see her weight.  I only see her pain and hunger and I hate her for all those things."  I want to be able to pray, "Help me love her," and know that prayer climbs into the ears of something mighty and powerful.  I want to believe god exists because I need to know I can change, that it is possible.

I have carried you around all these years and while you'll always be a part of my experience I'm not you anymore.  I've grown up.  I've changed.  But I can't see who I am because I can only see who I was.  I can only see you.  I need to let you go.  I can't keep living in your pain.  That pain is decades old and it doesn't serve me.  It only keeps me locked in the past.  It keeps me from seeing who I am now, who I've become.  Those parts of the story need to stop having the power they have.  It's not that I don't want to own the story.  I just don't want to get stuck in it.  I want to move beyond my story and I can't do that if I'm carrying you around.  As long as I'm doing that I can't be who I am.

I'm sorry.  I'm sorry you're filled with so much hurt.  I don't know if I can change that.  But I am trying.  I'm trying to learn, to grow, to see you differently.  I'm trying to learn how to see the beauty.  I'm trying to learn to love you.  I'm making you this promise--I'll get there.  I will.  I'll learn to be tender.  I'll learn to be compassionate.  I'll learn to love fully and completely.  I promise I will. 

I'm holding on to things I don't even remember clearly.  I'm holding on to things that are so old they don't even make sense anymore.  But I'm afraid to leave you back there in the past.  I want to carry you with me because I don't want to leave you in that painful place.  I haven't found a safe, loving place to put you and I just can't leave you where you hurt so badly.  I want to keep you here where I can protect you, where maybe you can start to feel safe and acceptable.  I guess I hope that if I keep you here you'll change, you'll be different.  I'm sorry.  I know that's not fair.  It's not fair to want you to be anything other than what you are.

Keeping you here won't change what you looked like, what you experienced, how you felt about yourself.  Maybe letting go of you will change who I am now.  But first I need a safe place to put you.  I need to know I'm leaving you in the hands of someone/something that will take care of you.  Am I supposed to be the one to take care of you?  I don't know.  I don't think I can because when I look at you I can't see what I need to see.  Until I see the beauty, the worth, the acceptability I will just keep hurting you.

If I could I would find you that safe place.  I would leave you in the hands of someone who knew how to care for you.  I would ask her to keep you safe.  I'd ask her to love you.  I wouldn't even have to say, "love her the way she deserves to be loved" because this someone wouldn't know how to love any other way than fully and completely.  And sometimes I'm not certain I can be trusted to judge what you deserve.  My idea of what you deserve is twisted and messed up.  I would leave you in the care of someone much wiser than me.

Right now I can't see how I've grown up and changed and become someone different.  I can only see myself through you and you don't exist anymore.  Not really.  You're 6.  You're 10.  You're 12.  You're every age I used to be.  And I'm not those ages.  Not anymore.  You can still be my 10 year old self but my 35 year old self can't live from my 10 year old self anymore.  I have to be able to live from who I am now.  You are a part of that but only a small part.  I need to let you be who you are...a girl I used to know in a story I knew once...not who I am now in the story I'm living now.

Comments

[Christina]

completely understand. completely.

[Jeanne]

Wonderful! Your truthfulness and your transparency are so refreshing. I remember doing this for myself. I, like you, actually saw and believed the words about myself - the little girl. A great breakthrough came when I just held her; and then let her go. You're on the right track to freedom and growth. Bless you.

[Jeanne]

Wonderful! Your truthfulness and your transparency are so refreshing. I remember doing this for myself. I, like you, actually saw and believed the words about myself - the little girl. A great breakthrough came when I just held her; and then let her go. You're on the right track to freedom and growth. Bless you.

[chulita4]

What a beautiful letter. I have been feeling the pain, saddness and hurt of the little girl I used to be due to some family issues I have been experiencing and I am so grateful to have been led to your blog. Every word of you letter resonated within my Being. Thank you so much for your wisedom. I plan to be back often.

[Deb]

What powerful words... a journey that many of us, at all ages, are traveling along with you. My Mom passed away recently and all of the baggage I have carried now sits right there in front of me, insisting on being dealt with. You seem to be on a healthy path of self awareness - something I continue to strive for... you have a lovely blog and I will be back to visit! Deb

[Megan Potter]

What a beautiful and moving letter. Thank you for sharing.

[linda]

Amazing, profound, freeing. Beautifully written.

[Brenda Kula]

I first of all want to thank you for being yourself and being truthful. I am 51, and I have trouble saying what I want and need to say because of my fear of what others will think. And I applaud you, hon, for stepping up to the plate, and doing just that. It takes great and infinite courage. It takes strength. You are all of those things. Don't stop sharing, for all of us who are afraid.
Brenda

[Missy]

Yet again, you have completely moved me. I am on a very similar journey so I have no words of advice but I offer this reminder that you are not alone. XXOO

[Delia]

You are getting ever closer to the heart of all of this, aren't you? I am inspired by your words today.
Love,
D.

[Bethany]

I feel like you just put into beautiful words what a lot of us struggle through in our own hearts. It's never easy letting go of our younger selves' pain, much less accepting that we're someone different. But I think that is how we best honor the memory of our old selves--by making something better of us now. ::Hugs::