Dear Young Chris – A memoir on the power of reflection and appreciating your own growth

“The main thing I want to tell you is this – I’m so proud of you kiddo.”

This piece came about for a few different reasons – the first is the very unadulterated value of reflection. As part of my own therapeutic journey I’ve been on in 2024/2025, I wrote a letter to my future self, and I wrote to a few friends of mine I wanted to provide thanks and reassurance to.

The second reason is also through my mentorship (through the wonderful Limit Break) with Safe’s own Jess Rutland in 2024.  Across what was (remarkably!) only a six-month period – I went through a lot and Jess was incredibly supportive and encouraging. They were nice enough to listen to me when times were hard, chaotic, and then a bit more jubilant. As a biproduct of that, we quickly struck up a friendship and here we are with me writing something for – you – the reader.

Before we get onto the letter to my past self, childhood me I should provide some context because context is key.

📢 Content Warning: This article contains discussion of alcoholism, depression and PTSD. There are resources at the bottom of the article for support if you feel any of the author’s words resonate with your own experiences 📢

2024 was not the year I thought it would be

Left a job in an ableist environment, dealt with the unemployment merry-go-round (did then find a job), my long-term, long-distance relationship/engagement ended and I fell into a depressive episode in what I can only describe as the anthesis of Brat Summer. Having said that, summer has never been my season (that’s an Albino joke for those at the back of the class). At this point, acknowledging I was in (lower-case-C) crisis – I reached out to the counselling service through my PhD based university. This was literally incredible, and I am still thankful to Heather for her amazing work with me. Therapy helped me in a number of ways – including navigating the upcoming chaos.

Therapy was progressing nicely, and I felt I was at a point where I felt steady again. I was working, continuing my PhD, recovering. I was able to acknowledge some childhood trauma relating to being an “ACOA” or “Adult Child of an Alcoholic” and begin to work on this part of myself. Then life said “hold my beverage”. Because as any elder emo can tell you after summer comes – Grand Theft Autumn (Where is your boy tonight?).

In October 2024 – I was unexpectedly offered a new job (one I had previously interviewed for in the summer, but was unsuccessful) as Lecturer of Psychology at the University of Brighton.  Suddenly, I found myself needing to move from my beloved Liverpool and start this really rather brand new and exciting chapter of my life. Moving, and considering my broader career were all things I had on the “2025” list of things to do and suddenly – having only to think of myself (and my dog Mario) I had this huge new chance. An opportunity, that ultimately, I knew I’d regret if I didn’t take it.

The last bit of backstory to all this is the combination of all of the above. Huge changes, in a year that drastically looked different to how I had planned and now 2025 was shaping up to be very different also. I, in part for the memes and partly for the therapeutic value decided to go on my “farewell tour”. I’d revisit some of the significant sites of my life, my PhD university campus, this included a visit to the places I grew up and seeing some family at rest in a cemetery.

When walking by my childhood home though – something tremendous happened. It was as if, staring at my childhood bedroom window I could see my child-self looking out. Thinking about how – all he could see was all there was in the world. The desperate desire to escape, the inability to do so and the fear of what would happen even if I did. In that moment, I felt overcome with emotion. I began to cry. Because in that moment, looking back at myself I felt enormous pride. I was so proud of “Young Chris” for surviving the things that he did. For never giving up and always believing better would come.

That’s why not only have I written to “September 2025 Chris” but I also wanted to write to “Young Chris” to thank him, congratulate him and tell him just how proud of him I am now. This is the letter I wrote. I hope you can take something from it.

Dear Young Chris

Hello from future you! Don’t panic – I’ve taken great care to ensure this reaches you without any inference on time paradoxes, unintentionally giving you prescience and more importantly spoilers. This letter is from a much older, much more grown up you. The you that goes to bed when they want to (but you’d think is early), still occasionally plays video games until the small hours of the morning, and has a job and all that jazz. But this isn’t why I’m writing to you. The main thing I want to tell you is this – I’m so proud of you kiddo.

Obviously, I’ve been where you are now. An you’ll eventually, be where I am. I know things are pretty rough right now. I’m only just beginning to realise how rough they are myself. But you make it through. I’ve thought about you often. I want you to know just how grateful I am for you. You persevered through so much. You inspire me to keep going, and to never give up. You never gave up – and I won’t give up either.

I remember really clearly how scary things are for you. The constant fear, the threat, the pain. The way that anxiety would fill you up from your toes right up to your mouth. Trying to drown out the noise. That deep rooted desire to somehow escape, run away somewhere – anywhere. You’ll even plan to do it – with grand dreams of film school. But, deep down you know you couldn’t leave, because you fear what you’d be leaving behind. All of these things will stay with you. But you won’t stay with them.

I’m here to tell you, however bad it feels right now – things get better. Oh boy, let me tell you mate things get better than you can even believe right now. You continue to never give up. Life will throw some curveballs at you, and it will feel really wild at times. But trust me – you grow up into such an amazing person. The core of who you are now – continues to grow. You’re going to meet so many amazing people, an you’re going to love them! The best part is, they’re going to love you for nothing more than just being who you are and it’s one of the most fantastic feelings in the world. For all the times you feel so un-loveable and broken – you’ll be blessed with 10x the times when you feel so much love and appreciation. I can’t wait for you to feel it because it will literally change your life.

You’ll still feel scared from time to time. But you’ll still be brave. You’re going to go on and do things that you can’t even imagine and it’s so, so freaking cool. You’ll speak and people will listen – they’ll be on the edge of their seat for you! Believe it or not, you will find not just one but several places where everybody knows your name.

I promise you all this, because I have lived it. I can promise you this, because of everything you’ve been through and just went through and never stopped. I hope when you’re at this point in time, and look back at how far you’ve come you feel as proud as I do. Because it is a transformation and a half. You think Super Saiyan 3 is cool? Wait until you see what form you actually go on to achieve. I hope you can feel the equivalent of a big hug from me to you. The world feels so big and scary now. But you’ll eventually feel bigger than anything you come up against. You’ll not only feel top of the world, but you’ll feel like you can move it. An you will.

I want you to know I’ve cried several times during the writing of this letter. But these tears aren’t because I’m sad. They’re because I’m so happy for you. I’m really so proud. All of these feelings, like it being okay to cry – are still new to me too but you’ll get there.

The last thing I want to say to you, is something I already know you do. But, I want you to keep pushing as you are. Chase your dreams, even when they tell you to crawl. Continue to love with all your heart. It may not always work out the way you want, but you’ll be able to say you were true to yourself. An let me tell you – despite what all the adults say keep playing those video games. Play ALL the video games. Trust me, it’ll do you good later down the line. You’ll have many more times when you find yourself unhappy. But know, you will get to a point where you begin to forgive yourself. You’ll start to realise you deserve to be, and more importantly CAN be happy. You’ll start to learn that you don’t have to make yourself miserable. You just have to keep on going, which I know you will – because you always have.

Young Chris, you have one heck of a wild ride coming your way. But enjoy every single one of those highs and know every single low passes. I’m not giving up on either of us, because neither did you. We’re in this together, and together we are unstoppable. I love you kiddo. Keep going.

With love, from your future self.
Older Chris (2024)

Written by Chris Leech

About The Author

Christopher Leech is a Lecturer of Psychology at the University of Brighton. Chris is finishing a PhD in psychology looking at video games and student mental health. Chris is a person with Albinism which means he’s visually impaired/legally blind. Chris is a content creator, podcast host, author, presenter, and accessibility consultant. Chris combines elements of mental health awareness, research, and accessibility throughout all his content. Chris is also avidly involved with various organisations including Take This, Safe in Our World, Impact & Many Cats Studios and Limit Break (as part of the Accessibility Committee).

Resources

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