There are parts of my past I used to avoid completely.
Some memories felt like wounds that never quite healed. Not because they were dramatic or loud—but because I carried them quietly for so long.
At one point, I thought the best way to move on was to bury it all. To keep going. Stay busy. Distract myself.
But deep down, it was always there. A low hum I couldn’t turn off.
It Started with One Honest Moment
One day, I caught myself feeling angry at the version of me from years ago. The choices I made, the people I trusted, the things I said yes to when I should’ve said no.
That question softened something in me.
I Realized I Was Trying to Survive, Not Fail
Back then, I didn’t have the clarity I have now. I wasn’t being careless—I was just trying to figure things out with what little I knew.
That shift—from judgment to understanding—was everything.
I didn’t excuse my mistakes. But I also didn’t beat myself up for being human.
Small Practices That Helped
No big routines. No “healing breakthroughs.” Just small, gentle things that gave me space to breathe:
- Writing a few sentences each night—even if they didn’t make sense.
- Taking walks without headphones, just to let my thoughts settle.
- Being more honest with close friends when old emotions came up.
- Reminding myself daily: “Growth doesn’t erase the past. It just shows I’m not stuck there anymore.”
Peace Didn’t Mean Forgetting
I used to think that healing meant erasing what happened. But peace, I’ve found, is more about how I relate to those memories now.
They’re still there. But they don’t own me. I don’t feel the need to run from them anymore.
Final Thoughts
Just try not to turn away from it.
Maybe sit with the version of you who didn’t know what you know now. See them with softness—not blame.
You don’t have to be proud of your past. But you can learn to carry it with less pain. And that, for me, was the beginning of peace.
