I’m sorry
for every time I chose silence
when my heart begged me to speak.
For shrinking in corners
just to make others comfortable,
while my own soul stood trembling,
unseen.

I’m sorry
for feeding myself crumbs of love
when I deserved a feast.
For mistaking survival for living,
and calling the ache in my chest
“strength.”

I’m sorry
for looking in mirrors
and searching only for flaws,
as if beauty was something borrowed
and not my birthright.

I’m sorry
for begging every room to stamp me worthy,
for checking every face for permission to exist.
I made applause my oxygen,
let numbers teach me how to breathe,
believed the world instead of the God-voice in my ribs.
I put my knowing on trial,
let strangers cross-examine my heart,
twisted myself into “palatable” and called it humble
when it was hunger.
I betrayed your voice for the world’s noise,
and every time they clapped,
I disappeared a little more,
forgetting you were the only one
whose “yes” could set me free.

I’m sorry
for the times I was blindsided,
trusting too quickly,
believing promises that crumbled
like paper in the rain.
I should have seen the cracks,
but love made me close my eyes,
and I left you stumbling
through the dark.

I’m sorry
for the nights you felt abandoned,
when everyone left
and you wondered if you were the problem.
When loneliness sat heavy on your chest,
and you cried into silence,
asking God why He forgot you.

I’m sorry
for every night I turned away from you,
for not holding your tears,
for abandoning your child-heart
when she only needed
arms wide enough to say,
“You’re safe here.”

I’m sorry
for what I allowed,
the disrespect, the careless hands,
the words that cut too deep.
For swallowing pain
and calling it patience,
for staying when your spirit
was begging to run.

I’m sorry
you feel left behind,
like life runs ahead
and forgets to wait for you.
I see you fight reality every day,
clenching your fists against truths
you wish weren’t yours.
I see the sadness in your eyes
with each failed attempt to outrun the pain,
and I should have held you closer
instead of pretending you were fine.

I’m sorry
you still people-please,
still bow at the altar of approval
that never fed you.
You don’t leave early enough
when your spirit is screaming to go.
You over-explain yourself
as if your existence needs footnotes.
You still cry when people leave,
and maybe that’s not weakness,
maybe that’s proof
your heart is still alive.
Should I be sorry
for being human too?

I’m sorry
for measuring myself against timelines,
against people who never carried
the storms I weathered.
For forgetting that slow blooming
is still blooming.

I’m sorry
for every “yes” I gave
when my whole body
was screaming “no.”
For betraying your boundaries,
for choosing peace outside of me
while breaking the peace inside of me.

I’m sorry
for the way I questioned your worth,
as if God made a mistake
in shaping you.
As if the ache in your chest
wasn’t holy ground
teaching you how to rise.

I’m sorry
for all the times I blamed,
everyone but myself for my actions.
For every time I looked outwards
to justify my actions
instead of facing the mirror
and owning the truth.
I want to be accountable,
a responsible human,
just like I’ll want my daughter to be,
brave enough to say,
“This was me,
and I will do better.”

But hear me now,
I promise I’ll stay this time.
I will feed you gentleness,
I will walk with you through the dark,
and when the world forgets your light,
I’ll be the one
to keep the flame alive.

I will not leave you again.
I will not blindfold your truth
just to hold on to someone else’s comfort.
I will not silence your “no”
to make space for another’s “yes.”

I will walk beside you
with eyes wide open.
I will carry your questions to God
without shame.
I will protect you,
love you,
forgive you.

Because you’ve always been enough.
Even in your breaking,
you were never less.
And I’m sorry it took me so long
to see it,
to love you
as you always deserved.

So here I stand,
not against you,
but with you.
Hands unclenched,
heart uncovered.
I forgive myself,
I choose myself,
I return to myself.
And from this day on,
I will no longer beg for love,
I will be it.
I will no longer chase for worth,
I will live it.
This is my vow,
my prayer,
my beginning again.

And maybe the only question left is this:
will you forgive me too?

letters#healing#poet#letterseries#letterstomyself

Credits to https://www.facebook.com/61575422405438/posts/122136934754847413/?mibextid=rS40aB7S9Ucbxw6v