Still the same child...

 

Dear past self,

It’s me, replying to the letter you wrote to me 5 years ago. If you are curious about that letter, go here: Letter to future me I am exactly at the age which you described in the letter.

You know what? 30 is not the age of maturity at all; instead, I feel detached, bewildered, and unsettled. These years have taught me a lot. Sometimes I gave up, sometimes I pushed forward without knowing what consequences it would bring.

I tried to be strong and resilient. I learned to laugh it off. I learned to hide everything behind my smile. But I couldn't teach my eyes to hide anything.

Five years ago, you were scared to ask about love. Yes, I have failed, as you expected.

I stopped caring about others. However, I couldn’t stop judging myself.

I am not fragile anymore. Thanks to the countless disappointments and failings I've experienced, I gained immunity. I am still short-tempered and prone to tears.

I still haven’t found where I belong. The confusing labyrinth becomes larger as I get older. I've lost hope of finding the exit.

I want to confess: It has been, and still is, so hard to pick up all my broken pieces. Maybe that’s why I chose psychology - to heal myself first before healing others.

Dear younger me,

I forgive you. The mistakes you made, the heartbreaks you had were fine. I am proud of you. I hope that you are also proud of me.

Happy birthday!

From Humay

With love,

7^th February 2024