
Every scar has a story. “Letter to My Younger Self” invites you into the reflective hearts of people who've walked winding roads—offering gentle truths, bold lessons, and encouragement for anyone still figuring it out. These weekly letters are full of grace and grit, showing how setbacks shape wisdom and how the past still holds power to teach. From nurturing curiosity to embracing mentorship, each piece is a tribute to growth through lived experience.
Cathy Imani pens this week’s heartfelt Letter to My Younger Self.
Dear younger self,
I can hardly express how proud I am of you! All the things you've gone through… looking at you now, I marvel. You survived! You're still standing! I salute you. I know it wasn't easy, even though I see it was worth it.
But younger self, while I honour your journey, in retrospect, there are a few things I wish you had done differently. I'm telling you now because I didn't know them then, but if I did, this is what I would say:
Experience is the best teacher, so learn from others' too.
You don't need to live out every situation to know how it plays out. You don't need to stand in a queue for a bullet to know you'll end up dead. Some of those paths you took that meandered through messy places were not necessary. Poor decisions, wrong associations and staying too long in places you should have left caused you harm.
That wrong job; that toxic relationship; that superficial friendship; that which held you back? They all kept you from grasping what was really meant for you. In many ways, it was like picking up injuries in the neighbourhood match, just days away from playing in the big league. You lost sight of what was really important.
Cheap thrills should never replace lasting glory. At least you know that now and thankfully, a lot of your experiences have made you who you are today: a better person. You also learned a powerful lesson: you don't have to go through all the murky places to know how deep they run. Stop, watch those ahead of you and then make your move.
Here's what that would look like; holding out before moving in with that person. Or growing a little before bringing another life to earth. It's that pause before sipping from that bottle. Or thinking it over, again, before sinking your money into that venture. It could be reading a book before teaching that class. Or taking a course before quitting that job to do your own thing. Not to mention, listening deeply before giving that unprocessed reply.
Just pause. Because a little time spent reviewing can spare you from a lot of time spent repairing. By taking a breath, you'll have acquired greater wisdom and clarity to navigate what lies ahead without picking up a scratch.
Also, younger self, be curious. Your curiosity was not a bad thing. It kept you sharp, interesting and led to great learnings. You should never have listened to those who equated your curiosity to being stubborn, or obsessive, for keeping at something because you wanted to see its completion. Or those who thought you were too inquisitive because you sought for clarity and asked plenty of questions. There were also those who just didn't like that you asked, because they were satisfied with the simple.
As you have come to realise, your curiosity irritated those who didn't have answers to give you; irked those who benefited from your lack of knowledge and threatened those whose intent was to maintain the status quo. But younger self, forgive them all. They may have slowed you down, but they couldn't stop you.
That enhanced creativity is a result of your curiosity, always leading you to seek better outcomes for situations, because you were never satisfied with keeping broken systems. Your curiosity made you resilient, enabling you to innovate and adapt, so that you wiggled out of some desperate situations. It made you identify potential problems, but also made you open to explore solutions and discover new ideas. Your curiosity made you more empathetic, but drove away those who wanted superficial engagement, to make way for those that appreciated your deep thinking and intense passion. It led to stronger relationships.
The questions you asked were necessary, but the space too confining to provide the answers you needed or the tools to seek them. You also needed mentorship to point you to places that could support your learning in ways your immediate circles couldn't have. Maybe you needed to get out more, make new connections and learn from those with the knowledge you sought in the fields you were interested in.
I'm sorry that was not available, but impressed with what you have done with the little that you had. Going forward, I pray that every new season gives you exactly what you need so that you will never have to scale down to fit the spaces in which you find yourself. That you will have the strength to leave the room if you're the smartest person in it. That your new connections will introduce you to new experiences that are necessary for your next level. That you will thrive, not just survive.
Another thing I wish you knew was the value of your voice.
Why did you think your voice didn't matter? Was it because you were silenced? Because you were afraid to look or sound foolish? To keep the peace? To fit in with others?
Conversely, was it because you realised the weight of your words caused others to crumble? That you were considered harsh or critical? Had your voice become negative and condescending? Did your words rub some the wrong way or cause conviction?
Maybe it was the things you said. Maybe it was the way you said them.
You can't change that now, so I'm making restitution for you. I owned your mistakes knowing now that youth has its folly.
What if I told you that you shouldn't have lost your voice? Would it have made a difference to know that you would have found your tribe – the ones that cared for and sought your opinion? Sounds far-fetched, but it's true – your voice could have been used better.
Someone needed to hear your story. Because of your voice, more would have found their way, changed course or escaped a snare. Your voice had impact and was meant to speak the truth in love. You didn't need to be loud or vulgar. You were meant to speak words that edify, words that are sensitive, words that bring healing and correction. But if you can't say it well, hold it a little longer. If your voice amplifies hate, wrong, untruths or unkindness, put down the mic.
Younger self, who lied to you that being soft makes you weak?
That to get through life, to get ahead, you had to toughen up? Your softness was your authenticity. You were born to be gentle. To bring healing to hearts and souls crushed under the weight of heavy words.
Not everyone who came your way was out to hurt you. In case you ever wondered, it was your softness that drew them. They couldn't have turned to those who broke them, so they came to you. That's why you were surrounded by so many broken and hurting people.
Being you – the real you – was what they needed to help with their healing. They knew they were safe with you. Your softness was your superpower – it held the capacity to hold hearts without breaking them. It takes a strong person not to break others. Don't let the things that broke you harden you. It may sound like an oxymoron, but this is no less true: you're strong when you're soft.
Then there's grace, something you should have given yourself more of.
You were kind to others, but rarely tender-hearted with yourself. Maybe you thought it was selfish. Maybe you never saw it modelled so you had no blueprint to follow. But even when we don't deserve it, we all need grace.
Grace makes it possible to forgive others as well as ourselves. Grace helps us to get up and move forward after wrong turns lead to unsavoury situations that knock the wind out of our lungs.
Without grace, we remain stuck in a past we cannot change. Moving past obstacles looks impossible, consigning us to dwelling in defeat, guilt and failure. Without grace, we are trapped in wrong thinking patterns and a cycle of un-forgiveness, which hinders the healing of the soul.
So forgive and forgive quickly. Not for them, but for you - knowing you too need forgiveness and others have been gracious to extend it to you. Forgiveness brings freedom and healing. Un-forgiveness festers and harms your body and soul. Let it go.
One last thing, but this is probably the most important: love God, then love others - hard.
Having a relationship with God makes it easier to access all the things pointed out earlier. Because with Him, you can be real. You can be vulnerable. You can be free to love well and forgive well. Loving well does not equate access without boundaries; and forgiving well does not mean letting the offender off the hook. It means you treat people with concern, knowing whom to grant deeper access and allowing space for the Maker to deal with the things you can't. So don't treat people the way they treated you.
Let God execute justice the way He knows how. And without your help.
Knowing that God loves you the way you are would have kept you from folding into the wrong arms. Knowing He cares about what confronts you would have helped you to lean into Him to fill that void you tried to drown with things that left you none the better the next day. And knowing you are loved and accepted but never left as you were – being made better day by day – would have allowed you to let your guard down. Because walls keep out both bad things and good people.
Everyone has a story worth sharing. If you’ve ever wished you could talk to your younger self—with wisdom, forgiveness, or clarity—we invite you to write to us. Your real, heartfelt letter might just be the encouragement someone else needs today. You may remain anonymous if preferred, but your truth matters. We don’t pay contributors, but we believe in the power of shared experience. Join us in building a collection of life’s hard-earned lessons and gentle reminders. Be part of this movement.
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