A Letter to Kid Me

Dear Kid Me,

You’ve gone through quite a lot. You were once free to be as a child should be; so innocent. Problems started to form—it was clear you were struggling in this world.

Then we grew up to this man I am today, but still you remained as my inner child. I’ve never really acknowledged your existence. Adult though I may now be, you still reside somewhere within.

I’ve spent years trying to run from you, but one cannot simply flee from one’s own self. I’ve lived as though I’ve no innocence; that was swiftly taken from us. Now I’m just bitter; angry with us and others.

You don’t understand why you struggle so much, and that’s okay—you’re still very young. Nobody should be expected to understand such things at your age. You are developing obsessive-compulsive disorder and severe anxiety issues; you are not a damned soul, you simply have mental health problems.

Our mother made many mistakes; said things she shouldn’t have. Our minds became polluted with fear; always expecting the worst of ourselves and scrutinizing every action or inaction as per how we expect she would think. Our mother is also unwell and clearly struggles with her own issues; hers need not be ours.

You develop a lot of hate for yourself. Deep resentment and hatred will serve only to hurt people and push them away. That same self-loathing will haunt and damage you and your future.

Enough with the diaries and momentos of times long gone. You torment yourself for years by dwelling so much on the past and never really moving on. You’ll merely develop an obsession with things that were; forever struggling to adjust to what is.

Our dad will make mistakes, just like you. He doesn’t yet understand what you’re going through, but he is trying. There will be a day when you’ll both sit down and have open conversations about these things.

You’ve no doubt heard this before, but kid, you’re not perfect; nobody is. It is often said because it’s true. Perfection is a matter of perspective; subjective. What is perfect to you, might disgust another. It’s time you stopped chasing that illusion, for us both.

Sincerely,
Adult You

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