My New Year Message to My Younger Self By Rolyn

Dear younger me,

You have been through more than most people could ever imagine. You were not the only child born into hardship, but you were one of the many who learned far too early what survival meant. From the moment you opened your eyes to this world, life did not offer you softness, it offered you responsibility.

At just seven years old, while other children were still learning how to play, you were already learning how to cook rice and do household chores. You went to school without slippers, your feet toughened by dusty roads and early mornings. And yet, there is one memory that still fills my heart with pride, the school bag made from a cement sack, lovingly stitched by your grandmother. You carried it with joy, not shame. You walked into your classroom smiling, proud of what you had, grateful for the love behind it.

By the age of nine, you were already a second mother. You became a babysitter to your little sister, holding her, feeding her, protecting her. Sometimes she even called you “Mama,” a word far too heavy for such young shoulders. But you carried it anyway, because love was something you had in abundance, even when everything else was lacking.

Poverty and your deep desire to help your parents pushed you to make one of the bravest decisions of your life. At just twelve years old, right after your elementary graduation, you flew to Manila to work as a nanny and housekeeper. You were still a child, but you chose to grow up overnight. You left behind familiarity, comfort, and innocence, replacing them with long hours of labor and silent tears.

You worked from sunrise until sunset, and often until midnight. Your small body endured exhaustion that even adults would struggle to bear. Even now, I cannot fully imagine how you did it. There were days you became sick from overwork, days your body begged for rest but you kept going. Not because it was easy, but because you believed in tomorrow. You held onto the words, “Tomorrow is another day,” and “Nothing lasts forever,” as if they were promises whispered directly to your heart.

Life was never gentle with you. But despite the pain, you never stopped dreaming. You believed, fiercely, that one day your life would change. You trusted that there would always be sunshine after the darkest, stormiest days. That hope became your strength when everything else felt fragile.

So here I am now, writing to you in this new year, with tears in my eyes and pride in my heart. I am so proud of you, of how far you’ve come and of the woman you are becoming. You are still fighting for what your heart truly desires, not only for yourself, but for the people you love. And that alone speaks volumes about your courage and your kindness.

Hang in there a little longer.

You are almost there. You are the master of your own game and the queen of your own creation. Fly high. Do not stop dreaming. Live your life fully, boldly, and unapologetically.

Most of all, love yourself the way you always loved others. Take care of yourself, you deserve it.

With love,

Your present self

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