The Old Me Was Doing His Best

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I used to look back at past versions of myself and cringe.

The way I chased people. The way I ignored red flags. The way I lost myself trying to keep the peace or hold something together that was already falling apart.

I’d judge that version. Try to distance myself from him. Pretend I’d always been more self-aware than I was.

But the truth is… he was doing his best.

With what he had. With what he knew. With what his nervous system could handle at the time.

He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t pathetic. He wasn’t broken.

He was just trying.

And I’ve realised: I don’t need to hate the old me to love who I’ve become.

In fact, part of healing is looking back with compassion—not shame. Saying,

“You didn’t know then what you know now.
But look how far you’ve come.”

That version of me deserves love, too.

Because he’s the reason I’m here now.