We’ve been talking about this a lot over the course of this blog. I dipped into the idea HERE and HERE and have been learning – or trying to – more about the concept of self compassion.
In my recent sessions with Jay we started talking about the tiny versions of ourselves: how there are often things we as children learned or internalized, even in loving and caring families. And even though mine was definitely one, there are still things learned from our environments as little people that we carry on into adulthood.
And it’s so funny. As soon as we started talking about this, I started to see this theme in other media: podcasts and the writings of others. Kind of like when you buy a brand new blue Honda Civic, and then suddenly you see blue Honda Civics all over the road.
One in particular has really stuck with me. Elizabeth Gilbert started a substack called Letters From Love, and I’ll start by emphasizing this is not typically my thing. My typical response to writing a letter to yourself from Love, and listening to what Love would say to you, well that would get something in the way of an eyeroll. Or the look I gave Jay when they suggested we try a guided meditation exercise. Afterwards I said to them: Ok, that wasn’t horrible.
Progress.
So here is my letter to my tiny self. It’s a very interesting exercise that I found easier to picture saying to my daughter. In a way, I wrote it thinking about what I would say to her, and then read it back as if someone had said it to me. Well, I was not prepared for that wallop. It is, as this blog as been, surprisingly hard and vulnerable. And in keeping with this theme, I share it with you, in hopes you may look more kindly at your little self. And give yourself some grace too.
My darling girl. You’ve been so very brave. I’m so proud of the kindness of your strength. And I have to tell you now, that you don’t always have to be strong. You’ve learned to be from so very young and it has served you well, until it didn’t. You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t always have to carry the burden with a badge of honour for having survived it. Your strength is also your greatest source of struggle. Please let me carry some of it for you. I’ve got more years that you do, and more wisdom if you will listen. You have so many people who have reached out with offers of help. Accept them. You have already begun creating a community on which you can lean. Lean on them. Accountability for you is not just owning up to the list of wrongs and burdens, it is saying aloud: I don’t have this. I need help. Ask for it. You already know it is there. Don’t be afraid of making those calls. Stop trying to do it all by yourself. I love you. And they love you. And they want to make this lighter for you, as I do. Let us carry this with you. Let us in. Let us show you how much we got this, with you. Because that is real strength. That is strong. And your big, beautiful, joyful, thoughtful, empathetic self will have more strength again too.