Hey kiddo,

If I can take my life back and feel how warmth your little fingers feel, there is so much joy I will etch on the surface of the starry sky. Knowing best that you never changed, future Elon Musk, family engineer. See how you’ve opened up daddy’s electrical appliances and trying your best to fix them all by yourself. I can almost hear mummy's piercing voice calling out your name from a distance, and I imagine the chills running down your spine as you anticipate her words, knowing exactly what she'll say; “Ei Kwadwo, so this is what you’ve done to your father’s gadgets.. well done”

How I miss sharing those thrilling nights when the rain pounded against our windows, thunder boomed, and lightning flashed. Our only sanctuary to hide was the shade of the pillow house which we built with every pillow our hands could reach only to be destroyed again when our hands and eyes gets choked with happiness upon the thunder’s roars. Those were the nights when fear and delight entwined, creating memories I treasure forever. Yet, even in those joyful moments, I know that pain and fear were lurking, waiting to pounce.

But today, I see you once again trapped in the never-ending vertigo of traumatic memories, like a maze with no escape. Sigh! I wish I could sit with you right now, surrounded by the warmth of a gentle breeze, and look into your eyes—the eyes that sparkled like stars on a clear night sky on the outside, yet hid a deep ocean of painful pain within, like a stormy sea.

I see the hurt you've carried, like a heavy backpack weighing you down, from being broken by those you trusted, feeling like a delicate flower crushed by the weight of their indifference, and believing love wasn't meant for you, likened to a locked door with no key.

I know how much it took for you to keep smiling, like a sunrise peeking through the clouds, to keep pretending everything was fine when, deep down, all the candles you lit flickered out, leaving only darkness and shadows. It's a heavy load to carry, like a mountain on your shoulders, and I want you to know that I'm here to lift it off, even if just a little, like a gentle rain soothing the thirsty and parched earth.

My heart bleeds, like a river overflowing its banks, to know how much you struggled to open up about your feelings, thinking that if people knew the real you, they'd only confirm your deepest fear: that you weren't enough, like a puzzle piece that didn't fit.

They told you that you were lacking, like a bird with clipped wings, because they measured you by a standard that never fit who you were, like a square peg in a round hole. They looked at what you could produce and read, never recognizing the brilliance of your creativity, your unique ability to invent and imagine a world far beyond the ordinary, like a masterpiece hidden behind a veil.

You didn't have to fit into their mold to be valuable. And that's why I want you to remember, kiddo, that your worth was never tied to their approval or their limited understanding of what made someone “smart” or “successful.” Your worth was in your capacity to feel deeply, to love fiercely, and to see beauty where others saw nothing. It was in your ability to keep going, even when the world tried to tell you that you didn’t belong.

Remember, their inability to see your worth reveals their limitations, not yours. You've always been enough, with gifts that this world needs. Don't let narrow-minded judgments define you or make you question your potential. Keep believing in your unique talents and abilities. They'll carry you forward, opening doors you never knew existed.

Don't be afraid to share your feelings and story. There are people who will understand, appreciate, and celebrate your scars and all. So, hold onto that truth, dear one, and let it guide you through the darkest times. You are enough, and your story is worth telling.

Keep moving forward, trusting your path, and know that I'm always here, believing in you

With all my love,

Your Older Self