What We Can Learn from Our Younger Selves
Ah, youth.
Think back to when you were a teen or twenty-something, in love with the idea of growing up. With near desperation we longed for the days when we would become adults, before even really knowing what that meant. We fantasized about the freedoms it would afford, the confidence we'd feel, and the possibilities that would magically open up.
I think back to my younger self. More than anything, she was filled with such a sense of urgency. For what? To get where? Who knows! But she marvelled at the world. She worried that no matter how hard she tried, she'd never get to see or do it all. She feared never meeting the perceived expectations of her husband, sons, family, and community. In fact, the burden of being everything to everyone was all-consuming. It occupied so much of her mental space it's a wonder she got anything else done!
This year, that woman turns 59. At this stage in my life, I find the desperation of my youth has transformed into a calm, serene state of being. For the first time, I feel like I am not only embracing, but leaning into aging. Optimistically!
But how did I get here?
What happened between then and now?
I'd be lying if I said it didn't take years of hard inner work and intense, ongoing self-discovery. I've learned that the relationship we have with ourselves is really the most important one. If we can't care for ourselves in patient, compassionate, and loving ways, then how could we possibly do the same for our loved ones?
I've learned that the inner drive to reach for my highest good is something that requires practice. I wake up every morning and speak into existence the mantra of the day. Todays is "I Love Who I Have Become."
I've learned that once we become older, we aren't miraculously blessed with the self-esteem of our idols. The ideas of freedom and possibility also look little like we'd imagined they would. I've come to understand that growth—real, inner growth—takes work. Time can heal, but strength requires cultivation.
I've learned that choosing what's best for me means saying NO, or retreating from spaces ill-suited to my current mental and energetic state. I give myself permission to do what I need to do, knowing that every day will be a different day. If today ain't working, I've always got tomorrow to try again.
And lastly, I've learned to honor younger me as she was—that 29 year old, on the cusp of motherhood, who wanted to be the world for her growing family. The younger me who couldn't bear to let anyone down, no matter what. I've learned that it's important for me to honor her anxiety, rather than shelve it simply because it's uncomfortable. That anxiety served a purpose. It led me to where I am today. That younger me is still part of who I am, and is someone worth learning from.
Think of your younger self. Who was that person? Do you still identify with parts of them? What is the single greatest thing that your younger self taught you? Comment below!
Lauri Pavelka Wright is a life coach, artist, and writer at The Butterfly Connection. She sees clients in individual and group settings at her space in south Texas, as well as online. To book a session, click here.
Photo by Huyen Nguyen on Unsplash
