To My twelve-year-old self
You Were Not Difficult
You were not difficult.
You were overwhelmed, observant, and trying to survive rooms where adults expected you to understand things they refused to explain.
They called you dramatic because you reacted to what everyone else pretended not to notice.
I wish I could sit beside you on the bathroom floor and tell you that sensitivity is not a flaw. I wish I could explain that being easy to manage is not the same as being loved.
You will spend years apologizing for needing reassurance. One day, you will stop.
You will find people who do not make you earn gentleness.
Until then, keep the journal hidden under the mattress. Keep writing. Those pages are how we found each other.
You were overwhelmed, observant, and trying to survive rooms where adults expected you to understand things they refused to explain.
They called you dramatic because you reacted to what everyone else pretended not to notice.
I wish I could sit beside you on the bathroom floor and tell you that sensitivity is not a flaw. I wish I could explain that being easy to manage is not the same as being loved.
You will spend years apologizing for needing reassurance. One day, you will stop.
You will find people who do not make you earn gentleness.
Until then, keep the journal hidden under the mattress. Keep writing. Those pages are how we found each other.
