This year, I’m starting things off a little differently:

I’m (gasp!) writing an apology letter to myself.

After seeing in recent months how my critical, self-destructive attitude is about as helpful as a weak-ass cup of coffee on a busy Monday morning, I have vowed to get serious about making amends with my sweet self sooner rather than later.

So, here goes nothing…

Dear Self,

I’m ecstatic that you are finally in my life. I’m beginning to appreciate your undeniable brilliance and graceful power. You are my gentle heart, my luscious love, my succulent soul. You are the air I breathe. Your sparkle is more vibrant than a gleeful, beaming ruby.

I want nothing more than to take your soft hand in mine and whisper matter-of-factly that I will love you madly.

But, before I wax (too) romantic, I need to say something:

I’m so sorry.

I’m sorry that I left you cold, alone, and shivering in the dark when you were hurting and needed help.

I’m sorry that I abused you in so, so, so many different ways.

I’m sorry that I told you to “Shut the f*ck up” when you were trying so hard to help me get my life on track.

I’m sorry that I said yes when you desperately pleaded me to say “no.”

I’m sorry for criticizing you to the point of exhaustion, and for refusing to give you tenderness, even then.

I’m sorry for calling you lazy and stupid.

I’m sorry for not listening to your needs, instantly discarding them like trash instead.

I’m sorry that I didn’t trust your innate wisdom to always, always, always have my best interest in mind.

I‘m so sorry for all this and more.

But, I ask now that we leave all this shit in the past.

Because I promise to cherish the f*ck out of you until the end of time.

Please accept my sincerest apologies and know that you will be deeply cared for and supremely nurtured from this moment on.

Yours,

Sarah

PS: I’m buying you a big bar of sea-salt dark chocolate (your favorite) just so you know I really mean it.

 

 

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Author: Sarah Harvey

Editor: Renée Picard

Photo: Wikimedia Commons