A letter to your younger self is a note from who you are now to who you were at an earlier turning point, like age 8, 16 or 25. People often use it to offer the kindness, perspective and reassurance they needed back then. Below you'll find what to include, 25 prompts, and a short example letter.
To see how far they've come. Writing to the past makes progress visible.
To be kinder to themselves. Greater Good in Action, from UC Berkeley's Greater Good Science Center, points out in its Self-Compassionate Letter practice that we often judge ourselves more harshly than we judge others.
To make sense of their story. The same practice suggests considering how the events in your life and the family you grew up in shaped the things you struggle with.
To say thank you. To the younger you who kept going, and to the people who helped.
Psychologist Kristin Neff describes self-compassion as having three parts: mindfulness, a sense of common humanity, and kindness. A letter to your younger self can touch all three. You notice what that younger person felt, you remind them they weren't the only one, and you speak to them warmly.
A specific moment makes a stronger letter than "Dear younger me." Some ideas:
The kid on the first day at a new school.
The teenager who felt like they didn't fit in.
You at 18 or 21, about to leave home.
You the night before a big decision: a move, a breakup, a new job.
You at a low point, when you didn't know things would get better.
A greeting with the age or moment. "Dear 16-year-old me" sets the scene.
What they're going through. Show that you remember: the worry, the room, the song on repeat.
What you know now. One or two truths that would have helped.
What turned out okay. Reassurance is often the heart of the letter.
Forgiveness. For mistakes made with the knowledge they had at the time.
What to keep. The traits that carried you here, like stubbornness, humor or curiosity.
Thanks. For getting you to today.
A sign-off. From "the you who made it," or whatever feels right.
What were you most afraid of, and what actually happened?
What do you wish someone had said to you at that age?
What were you blaming yourself for that wasn't your fault?
What did you need more of: rest, fun, protection or attention?
What would you say if you could sit beside them for five minutes?
What seemed huge then that hardly matters now?
What seemed small then that turned out to matter a lot?
What did you get right without realizing it?
Which "failure" led somewhere good?
What took longer than you expected, and why was that okay?
What would you tell them to stop doing sooner?
Who could they trust, and who should they be careful with?
What should they try even though it's scary?
What should they ask for help with?
What do you wish they'd known about money, friends or work?
What did your younger self do that you're thankful for now?
Who showed up for them, and what did that person do?
What small habit or interest grew into something important?
What hard thing did they get through that still shapes you?
What part of them do you still carry?
What would they be surprised to learn about your life today?
What would they be proud of?
What promise did you keep to them, or still want to keep?
Which dream of theirs is still worth chasing?
What do you want them to know about who they became?
The Self-Compassion Institute's writing exercise offers a useful way in, even though it is designed for present-day struggles. Adapted for this letter:
Feel it first. Spend a few minutes writing about what your younger self felt at that moment, exactly as it was, no more and no less.
Take a loving friend's view. The exercise asks you to write from the perspective of an imaginary friend who is unconditionally loving and understands your whole life history. Write to your younger self in that voice.
Remember what was outside their control. The exercise points to things like genes, family history and life circumstances. Name the ones that apply.
Set it aside, then reread. Greater Good suggests putting a self-compassionate letter out of sight for a while, then coming back to read it again, especially when you are feeling bad about yourself.
This is an example letter, written for a made-up person. Yours should sound like you.
Dear 15-year-old me,
I know you're sitting on the bus pretending not to care that nobody saved you a seat. I remember how heavy that felt. Here's what I wish someone had told you: being quiet isn't a flaw. The things you keep to yourself, the drawings in the back of your notebook and the way you notice everything, become the reasons people trust you later.
You will make mistakes. You'll quit some things too fast and hold on to some people too long. That's okay. You were doing your best with what you knew.
The girl who sits next to you in art class in March? Keep her as a friend. And keep drawing.
Thank you for getting us here.
Love, the you who made it
Keep it somewhere private and reread it on hard days.
Write another one in a few years, to a different age.
Pair it with a letter to your future self, so one looks back and one looks ahead.
Turn a line from it into a personal affirmation. Here is how to write your own affirmations.
If writing brings up painful memories that feel overwhelming, it's okay to stop. Consider talking with a doctor or mental health professional. In a crisis in the US, you can call or text 988 to reach the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline, which is free, confidential and available 24/7.
Describe what they were going through, share what you know now, offer forgiveness and reassurance, and thank them for getting you here.
There is no right length. One page is plenty, and a few honest lines are better than a long letter you never finish.
Choose an age tied to a specific moment you still think about, such as a move, a loss or a time you felt alone.
No. A letter to your younger self offers comfort and perspective looking back. A letter to your future self records where you are now and what you hope for. Writing both makes a nice pair.
Dear You: Daily Letters is built around letters to your future self, which pair naturally with a letter to your younger self: one looks back, one looks ahead. You can seal a future letter for a week up to five years, keep a searchable private library of past writing, and lock the app with Face ID, Touch ID or a passcode. It is free with optional Dear You Plus purchases, has no account or ads, and your letters stay on your iPhone.
Get Dear You free on the App Store
Self-Compassionate Letter (Greater Good in Action, UC Berkeley)
Exercise 3: Exploring self-compassion through writing (Self-Compassion Institute)