
I recently went through some old paperwork from my early teen years. Lists, poems, research, school—little snippets of routines that no longer exist, jobs I no longer have, and dreams I once held close. Hopes and plans and prayers scribbled on post-it notes and multi-colored notepads.
As I sifted through my cramped, scattered handwriting, I couldn’t help but think about how much of what I wrote about came true. Not in the way I expected, and certainly not in the timeline I speculated on, but the things I wrote about and studied eventually came into reality in one way or another.
It’s important to look back sometimes, to see how far you’ve come. It’s easy to focus on the things that haven’t happened yet, but there is an equal amount of things that have.
That fifteen-year-old making plans in a basement didn’t know how much of what she was doing would matter in a year, five years, let alone ten. But it did. She built the skeleton of the life I’m living now, with all its muscles and organs and rushing blood.
Of course, looking back comes with recognizing the things that have been on the list for too long, things I’ve been putting off for as far back as I have a paper trail. Looking back offers a chance to reaffirm plans that maybe fell by the wayside.
What we choose to focus on and dream about really does matter. The information we consume and the words we write have real power—they direct our thoughts, what we feel capable of, and the likelihood of following through with what we set out to do.
It may seem pointless sometimes to make plans when they so often do not go as intended, but it does matter. It matters the same way trying new things even when you can’t see the outcome matters. It gives you something to grab hold of when life feels misty and unformed.
The goal is not to enact an exact execution of a precise and perfect plan—it’s to get started, to give yourself the foundation to build as you go.
Yes. My young teen self built the skeleton. She drew the blueprints and put hours of blood, sweat, and tears into the foundation I stand on today.
But it took growth and re-configuring and re-prioritizing (ahem, ahem—aka “growing up”) to see it through as a fully functioning life force, and that was only possible because of who I am now. Who I aim to be every day. I sewed in the heart and the brains and the nerves to get this operation in working order, and sometimes, it takes everything I have to keep it going.
I know there are still new additions on the way, always. Improvements, innovations, discoveries. I might make some software upgrades…God knows I could use a new processor sometimes.
But I digress. Right now, I just feel like taking my teen self by the shoulders, kissing her forehead, and saying, “Thank you, I’ve got it from here. You did well. I know you don’t feel like you’re worth anything, but you gave us the best you had, and I’m so grateful. You can rest.”
Thank you for reading, and I hope you give your teen self a pat on the back. It wasn’t war, but it sure wasn’t fun being 15, was it?