I apologise to you, for everything you’ve been through because of me. I’m sorry you got mistreated in primary school and how it threw you off after being so welcomed in kindergarten. I’m sorry it poisoned your self-esteem and the way you would see your worth. I’m sorry for the confusion you experienced because I kept telling you that you were the problem, the one in the wrong.
I’m sorry you felt the need to adapt to everyone around you starting in high school, in case they would abandon you, and make up ridiculous lies to make them notice and like you and welcome you into their group when you genuinely didn’t have to do that and it backfired on you. I’m sorry I made you believe that you had to go that route. I’m sorry you were so desperate that, at one point, you found yourself trying to please people who didn’t even deserve your friendship.
You didn’t go to parties or clubs, not because you weren’t allowed, but because you believed it wouldn’t have made a difference.
You never wanted to be invisible, because that’s all you’d feel in the middle of the night, or locked up in school bathrooms, or on the way home in your father’s car. But you were. Invisible, only with a voice to be autotuned so your surrounding would notice you sometimes.
It still nags at you, doesn’t it? Is this why you grew to being so quiet? Is this what makes you shrink when you’re out in a group where there’s louder, more extroverted girls? Because you believe everyone will like them more anyway?
I’m sorry I grew poison in your young self-esteem that’s still being fought to this day.
I’m apologising to you, my dear, my self.0