I wasnโ€™t planning on writing another Dear Younger Self letter.ย This one came from a conversation I had with ChatGPT. Cause when you live alone and have always kept to yourself, who do you talk to about random things and realizations that suddenly popped into your head? A therapist would have cost thousands, so ChatGPT it is.ย I was reflecting on something Iโ€™ve heard for as long as I can remember.

โ€œMayabang ka.โ€

It wasnโ€™t strangers who said it first.ย It was my dad.ย Heโ€™d often tell me I was just like my mom, mayabang.ย As a child, you donโ€™t know what to do with words like that.ย You donโ€™t argue.ย You donโ€™t analyze them.ย You carry them.ย For years, I wondered if he was right.ย Even now, there are moments when Iโ€™m in the middle of telling a story about something Iโ€™ve accomplished, and Iโ€™ll catch myself thinking,

โ€œOh noโ€ฆ Iโ€™m talking about myself again. Theyโ€™re going to think Iโ€™m bragging.โ€

Because sometimes I talk about myself too much, just to be seen. That realization led me to ask a question Iโ€™d never seriously considered before. What if what people saw as arrogance wasnโ€™t arrogance at all? What if it was something I learned? Growing up, I donโ€™t remember my achievements being celebrated the way I longed for them to be. Success often felt expected. Ordinary. Something that didnโ€™t deserve much attention because they say, โ€œMatalino ka naman.โ€

So somewhere along the way, I learned to celebrate myself. Sometimes a little too loudly. Not because I believed I was better than everyone else. But because, deep down, I was afraid that if I didnโ€™t acknowledge my own achievements, no one else would. Even now, I still meet people who try to make me feel small, and my immediate instinct is always to fight back and prove them wrong.

That conversation became this letter.ย Not to defend myself.ย Not to convince anyone that theyโ€™ve misunderstood me.ย But to explore a possibility. Sometimes the traits weโ€™re judged for arenโ€™t the traits we consciously chose.ย Sometimes theyโ€™re the ways we learned to survive.

Dear Younger Me,

People will call you mayabang. Some will say youโ€™re too full of yourself. Others will think youโ€™re trying too hard to prove youโ€™re better than everyone else. It will bother you for years because, deep down, youโ€™ll know thatโ€™s only half the story.

The truth is, no one taught you how to be proud of yourself. Growing up, your achievements werenโ€™t celebrated the way you secretly hoped they would be. They were expected. โ€œMatalino ka naman.โ€ As if doing well wasnโ€™t something worth celebrating because it was simply what you were supposed to do.

You learned early that people are quick to point out your mistakes but slow to acknowledge your victories. So without realizing it, you became your own cheerleader. You learned to clap for yourself because you were afraid no one else would. Somewhere along the way, confidence became a shield.

Before anyone could make you feel small, youโ€™d remind yourself, and sometimes everyone else, of what you had accomplished. Not because you believed you were better. Because you were terrified of believing you werenโ€™t enough. Youโ€™ll notice it years later. Youโ€™ll be in the middle of telling a story when a little voice in your head whispers, โ€œOh noโ€ฆ Iโ€™m doing it again.โ€

Youโ€™ll suddenly wonder if people think youโ€™re bragging. Sometimes, you are. Sometimes, youโ€™re simply excited to share something youโ€™re proud of. And sometimesโ€ฆ Youโ€™re still that little girl trying to convince herself that sheโ€™s worth noticing.

The hardest part? Compliments will make you uncomfortable too. Youโ€™ll either brush them off because they donโ€™t feel realโ€ฆ Or youโ€™ll hold onto them a little too tightly because you spent so much of your life starving for them.

Youโ€™ll also carry this habit into your relationships. Youโ€™ll fight to be understood. Youโ€™ll fight to be right. Not because winning matters. But because, for so long, your voice felt like it carried less weight than everyone elseโ€™s.

One day, though, youโ€™ll realize something that changes everything. Confidence doesnโ€™t have to be loud. It doesnโ€™t have to announce itself. And it certainly doesnโ€™t have to convince anyone. Real confidence quietly says, โ€œI know who I am, whether you see it or not.โ€ย You wonโ€™t need to list your accomplishments to prove your worth. You wonโ€™t need to defend your intelligence. You wonโ€™t need to explain your heart to people determined to misunderstand it.

Because the people who matter wonโ€™t love you more because you impressed them. Theyโ€™ll love you because they see you. So hereโ€™s what I want you to remember. Celebrate yourself. Be proud of what youโ€™ve built. Share your wins. Just donโ€™t confuse proving your worth with recognizing it. One seeks validation. The other comes from peace. And peace is a much quieter place to live.

Love,

The older version of you who finally realized that confidence isnโ€™t about making sure everyone sees your light. Itโ€™s about no longer fearing that it will disappear if they donโ€™t.


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