In October, I booked a trip to Disney World for 12 hours. I flew there alone, spent the day alone, and flew black alone that night. It was wild and fun and so true to who I am. The night before I got on the plane I thought to myself:
“My younger self would think this is amazing. Someone who does something like this, like you are doing right now, would be her hero.”
I have never been very good at positive self-talk, affirmations, or much else under the self-love umbrella. I also have never really thought about my younger self before. But thinking of myself at ten years old–this girl who would plan trips in the back of her notebook in class, who was filled with such a desire to travel and adventure and have fun–it was pretty clear that she would love who I am today. The idea that who I currently am is someone that a version of me years ago would adore is kind of complex, and has opened a whole new perspective on self-love for me.
The train of thought about my younger self and what she’d think of me now has continued these last few months. True, she’d probably be angry that we’re planning on law school and not Broadway, but she’d be thrilled at the experiences I’ve had, the friends I found, even the way I decorate my dorm.
I shifted from thinking about what my younger self would think of my present self, and started reflecting about my younger self in general. I ended up feeling a lot of pride thinking about that kid. She didn’t have a ton of friends, but she stayed absolutely true to herself regardless. She got a job, even if just a volunteer position, at 12 years old. She worked hard and loved deeply. I think the thing that stuck with me most was remembering things I did at that age with no agenda except to make other people happy. I remember the kindness journal I bought when I was 12 because I was deeply afraid I wasn’t a good person. At the time years ago, all I saw were the things wrong with me: my insecurities, my anxieties. But looking back on it, I love the kid I used to be.
And now, I look at my current self, and I still struggle with self-image. While I hold love for my younger self, I don’t translate it to my current self. There’s an irony here: I didn’t like myself five years ago, but as a young woman, I love who that girl was. I don’t always particularly like myself at my current stage of life, but I know myself from five years ago would love me. I imagine myself five years from now and how by then, if this pattern continues, I’ll look back on who I am now and be proud of this version of me, who happens to be the same version I currently struggle to love. By then, I’ll be disliking myself in that stage of life. I see in retrospect that my younger self deserved more love and validation than I gave her in the moment, and I don’t want to make that mistake twice.
After thinking about all this, here’s what I’ve come up with:
All of the versions of yourself, past, present, and future, are different cuts of the same cloth. I’ve spent a lot of time focusing on the cut, or the version of myself at a certain time. I’ve wished I was still something that I used to be, and I’ve wished that I would already be something that was coming in the future. I’ve since realized that it’s not about loving whatever current cut you are: it’s about loving the cloth, the core of who you are. The cloth never changes or goes away, it just takes new shape through time.
Self-love is tricky. But one of the most valuable things anyone has even said to me came from someone I truly respect and cherish:
“I want you to think about your younger self. Remember, the you that was listening to Taylor Swift songs for the first time and falling asleep on the couch watching Disney movies? She was precious. You are her. You are still
precious”.
It makes no sense to love my past self and not my present self, or long for the woman I want to become and not cherish the woman I already am—we’re all variations of the same girl. The clearest understanding is hindsight, and looking back on your younger self and how proud she might be of me has been a unique way to challenge my perspective and give myself the love I deserved in the past, will deserve in the future, and most importantly, deserve today.