Tag: #LifeLessons

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I Miss Her Sometimes (But I Don’t Want Her Back)

There’s a version of me I miss.
Not in a soft, sentimental way. I’m not scrolling through old photos, sighing over who I used to be. It’s more like an ache that creeps in when the house is too quiet, or the bills are piling up, or I’m halfway through my third mental spiral of the morning.

I miss the girl who didn’t know how tired she would eventually become.
I miss the version of me who woke up without dread. Who thought she had all the time in the world. Who thought things were hard, but had no idea what was coming. I miss her unshakable belief that things were going to work out just because she wanted them to.

She wasn’t naïve. Not entirely. She was smart. Capable. Driven when she needed to be. But she lived like the world still revolved around her, and in some ways, that was beautiful. There was power in it. Her sense of self wasn’t perfect, but it was intact. She had style, momentum, and that kind of direction that doesn’t always come from logic. It came from gut instinct and blind optimism. She didn’t have it all figured out, but she believed she would eventually.

Now, I don’t believe in eventuals. I believe in scraping things together. I believe in bracing for impact. I believe in trying to build something better without any real guarantee that it’ll ever become what I need it to be. And that’s not defeatist. That’s just what happens when you’ve been burned enough to know better.

What she didn’t know, and what I do now, is how quickly time turns into a resource you’re constantly chasing. She had energy to burn and didn’t even notice she was spending it. She made money during a golden hour of opportunity and didn’t understand the privilege in that. She poured herself into relationships, convinced that being everything for everyone would mean she was needed, wanted, safe. She thought if she handled enough, carried enough, gave enough, she would eventually be taken care of too.

I’d give anything to sit that girl down and tell her to stop.
To stop breaking herself into pieces for people who would never offer her the same.
To stop assuming love has to be earned through self-abandonment.
To stop confusing productivity with worth.

I’d tell her to put herself first. Not because it’s empowering or trendy, but because she’s the only constant she’s ever going to have.

She spent so much time chasing someone else’s definition of adulthood. Marriage. Kids. A house. The image of having it all together. She never stopped to question if she actually wanted that life. She thought being responsible meant chasing stability, even if the stability wasn’t hers. Even if it came at the cost of her peace. And once she realized that all those things she was killing herself to create weren’t going to happen, or weren’t going to be enough when they did, there wasn’t some big reckoning or transformation. There was just exhaustion.

The girl I was didn’t have it all. But she had something I don’t. Energy. Belief. Forward motion. She didn’t doubt herself at every turn. She didn’t feel guilty for existing. She didn’t constantly question whether she was doing enough, being enough, or falling behind. She got overwhelmed, sure, but she still thought she could climb out of it.

That’s the part I miss the most.

But here’s the thing. I don’t want her back.

I’ve lost things I can’t get back, but I’ve also walked away from things that were never mine to begin with. Jobs that drained me. Friendships that only survived on my effort. Relationships that blurred the line between love and obligation. I’ve learned that just because something is familiar doesn’t mean it’s worth clinging to. Just because someone wants you doesn’t mean they see you. Just because something looks good on paper doesn’t mean it won’t kill your joy.

I can’t say I feel proud of everything I’ve done since letting her go.
I’m still clawing my way toward a version of life that feels like it fits.
But I do know more now.
I know that the only person responsible for holding me together is me.
I know that stability isn’t something you find. It’s something you build slowly, quietly, without applause.
I know that peace matters more than appearances.

I still miss the mornings when I woke up excited for the day, when my world felt small enough to manage and wide enough to dream. I miss the freedom that came with working from home, having a little land, some chickens, a routine that didn’t leave me feeling depleted. I miss the fire I used to have. I want some of that back, but I want it on my terms this time.

Because I’m not trying to be her again.
I’m trying to take what she had that was good and build something stronger out of it.
Something quieter. Something mine.

This time, I won’t waste it trying to prove my worth.
This time, I’ll invest in myself the way no one else ever did.

She didn’t know yet.
But I do now.
And I’m not going to forget it.

If there’s a version of you that you miss too, one that felt braver, louder, softer, freer, I hope you know she’s not gone. Not really. You don’t have to go back to her. But maybe you can borrow a little of her fire while you build something she never even dreamed of.

You don’t owe anyone a full-circle story. Just keep going.
You’re allowed to miss her and still outgrow her.

xoxo
-S

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Dear 20-Something Me: A Letter from the Cusp of 40

Hey there,

I hope this letter finds you well, wherever you may be on your journey. As I sit down to write to you, my younger self, I’m filled with a sense of nostalgia and reflection. You’re at such an exciting time in your life – full of hopes, dreams, and endless possibilities. But there are a few things I wish I could share with you, a few lessons I’ve learned along the way that might make the road ahead a little smoother.

First and foremost, I want you to know that it’s okay to feel a little lost sometimes. Life is messy, and it doesn’t come with a roadmap. You’re going to encounter moments of doubt, moments of uncertainty, moments when you wonder if you’re on the right path. And that’s okay. Embrace the journey, my dear. Trust that every twist and turn, every bump in the road, is leading you exactly where you need to be.

I know you’ve been told countless times that you’re “mature for your age,” and while that may be true, don’t let it weigh you down. Being responsible is important, but so is embracing the joy of being young. Don’t rush through life trying to check off all the boxes of adulthood. Take your time. Enjoy the ride. And above all else, don’t forget to laugh – at yourself, at the world, at the absurdity of it all.

Oh, the adventures you’re going to have! From spontaneous road trips to late-night conversations that stretch until dawn, your 20s are going to be a whirlwind of excitement and discovery. Embrace every moment, my dear. Say yes to new experiences, even when they scare you. Take risks. Be bold. And never, ever lose sight of the fire that burns within you – the passion, the drive, the unshakeable belief that you can change the world.

But amidst the chaos of youth, don’t forget to take care of yourself. It’s easy to get swept up in the thrill of the moment, to push yourself to the limit in pursuit of your dreams. But remember: self-care isn’t selfish. It’s essential. Listen to your body. Rest when you need to. And don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it. You don’t have to do it all alone.

As you navigate the ups and downs of your 20s, you’re going to encounter some rough patches. There will be moments of heartache, moments of disappointment, moments when you feel like you’re drowning in a sea of uncertainty. But here’s the thing: you’re stronger than you realize. You have a resilience within you that’s truly remarkable. So when life knocks you down – and it will – dust yourself off, my dear, and keep moving forward. You’ve got this.

And please, please don’t be in such a rush to grow up. I know it’s tempting to want to have it all figured out – your career, your relationships, your future. But trust me when I say that life is so much more than a checklist. It’s about the journey, the moments, the memories. So take your time. Enjoy being young. And know that it’s okay to not have it all figured out. You’re exactly where you need to be.

As I stand on the cusp of 40, I look back on my 20-something self with a mix of fondness and nostalgia. You were so full of hope, so full of dreams, so full of life. And while the years may have brought their fair share of challenges, they’ve also brought moments of incredible joy and growth. So as you continue on your journey, my dear, remember to cherish every moment – the good, the bad, and everything in between. For it’s in those moments that you’ll discover the true magic of being alive.

xoxo
-S