To the Girl Who Had to Grow Up Too Fast

An honest letter to the younger me who carried too much, stayed too quiet, and kept going anyway

Dear Little Sara,

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for the way I made you earn rest. For all the times I silenced you before anyone else could. For every moment you needed care and I pushed you to be strong instead.

I wish I had known that strength doesn’t mean never breaking. That bravery isn’t about pretending nothing hurts. That love is not something you should have to hustle for.

You were just a little girl trying to keep it all together.

Trying to be what the world needed. What our family needed. What teachers wanted. What culture expected. You kept giving and adjusting. You made yourself so small to stay safe. I see it now.

You should have had the space to just be a child.

You should have had joy without guilt. Mess without shame. Attention that didn’t require perfection.

But you didn’t. And that wasn’t your fault.

Back then I didn’t know what I know now. I didn’t know how to say no or how to let others carry the weight with me. I thought survival meant success. That if I could hold it all, I was winning.

I see you now. And I want you to know that the woman you became is learning to do better.

These days I check in. I ask myself what I need instead of what I should be doing. I protect my energy instead of proving my worth. I give myself room to feel and space to fall apart without shame.

You show up every time I get scared to take up space. Every time I wonder if I’m too much or not enough. But I remind us both that we are already worthy. We always have been.

I want you to know this: You deserved better. And now we are giving ourselves better.

More rest. More softness. More laughter. More truth. More joy. And absolutely no more apologizing for who we are.

I love you.

And I’ve got you now.

Always,

Sara

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Before you go, let’s talk about you for a second.

You may not have gotten what you needed back then. You may still be carrying the weight of what you never received. But that part of you — the younger version who just wanted to be seen, to be safe, to be loved as they were — they’re still here.

And they are still listening.

This week, give them a moment. A real one.

Here’s how you can start:

• Write them a letter. Be honest. No fluff.

• Ask them what they wish they heard more often. Then say those things out loud to yourself.

• Choose one small act that honors their needs today. Even if it’s just slowing down long enough to breathe.

You are not too far gone to come back home to yourself.

You are not too late to give your inner child what they’ve been waiting for.

You are not alone in this work.

The healing begins with truth. And truth starts here.

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Sculpted Thoughts ✨ | Mental Health • Career Growth • Personal Development

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