Dear younger me, I see you. I see the little girl with tears in her eyes, using a smile to cover up so no one notices. I see how your small hands trembled when you had to lift what was too heavy for you.I see how you tried to grow up too quickly, because life didn’t give you the luxury of innocence. You wanted love, but you learned pain. You wanted protection, but you found betrayal. You wanted to be heard, but silence became your closest pal. And yet, somehow, you kept living, even when you didn’t know why. If I could be with you now, I’d hold your hands and whisper the words you needed to hear: “It’s not your fault.” None of it was ever your fault. You didn’t deserve the wounds, you didn't deserve all that happened. You were just a child, and children deserve love, not pain. I want you to know that the girl who broke became the girl who writes these words. That your loneliness taught me how to stand, even when the world turned away. That the pain you endured shaped me into someone who refuses to give up, no matter the situation. Younger me, you always feared being forgotten, being unloved. But hear me: you are not forgotten. You are the reason I am here today. You are the heartbeat behind every dream I chase, you're behind every word I write. I wish I could tell you the road gets easy, but it doesn’t. There are still times where I cry, where I doubt myself. But here’s the truth, you sailed through what should have drowned you. And because of that, I know I will survive whatever comes next. If you can hear me, little one, please don’t lose hope. Don’t stop believing that life can still hold beauty. Don’t stop writing no matter what happens. Don’t stop dreaming, even when the world calls you foolish.