I was scrolling on Facebook the other day and came across a quote that said: “The little girl you used to be is SO proud of you.” And I just sat there and stared at it because that didn’t feel right to me.
I thought life would look so different by now. I always assumed I’d be married, maybe have a kid or one on the way. I thought I’d have my dream job as a teacher. I thought life would be… on track.
But that couldn’t be further from the truth of the life I’m living. I’ve been single for as long as I can remember. Having kids feels like a lifetime away. And that teacher job? How do I tell the sweet girl who wanted nothing more than her own classroom that she hasn’t even gotten an interview?
Relationships and friendships have come to a halt. There are people in my life that I don’t associate with anymore, and the younger version of me would be devastated. Life has changed so incredibly much, and I don’t know how to explain that to the child I was.
How do you explain to the kid version of you that life has been filled with heartbreak, grief, and things so unimaginable that the poor child would probably break down in tears if she heard?
I stared at the post again, telling myself that someone in the comments had to feel the same way. This couldn’t just be me.
That’s when I saw the caption:
She thought your life would look so different. She imagined a different story. An easier one. A softer one. But if she could see you now, she wouldn’t be disappointed. She’d be in awe. In awe of the way you’ve carried what was meant to break you. Of how you’ve learned to make peace with loss without letting it harden you. Of how you keep creating, even when life has left you with empty spaces. You’ve turned your pain into something that reaches other people. You’ve met your own darkness by becoming a reminder of light. You’ve answered your own emptiness by helping others feel seen, loved, and less alone. She wouldn’t recognize the life. But she’d recognize the heart.
That wrecked me in the best way. Because it wasn’t romanticizing anything; it wasn’t saying the little girl in me would get everything she wanted. It was saying that life happened, and it decided to rock my world, but I didn’t let the shitty things that happened to me harden me.
I became someone who makes people feel good just by showing up.
I can make a child feel heard in a way that builds a bond unlike anything they’ve had with anyone else. I can take someone’s terrible day and completely turn it around just by knowing how to talk to them. Grumpy old dogs that don’t like anybody? They pitter-patter to the door to say hello to me. Kids who are impossible to work with? They light up when they see me walk into a room. People tell me that seeing me is the best part of their day.
And all this, and I’m also kind. So kind that I don’t need other people to notice. It’s something I cherish about myself. The type of kindness that leaves people with a smile on their face for the rest of the day, fostering feelings of hope and connection in others.
I am sunshine in human form.
Because here’s the thing nobody tells you — sometimes the life that didn’t go according to plan is the one that builds resilience and strength in you. The detours, the losses, the doors that kept closing? They didn’t break me. They built me. And what got built is someone who shows up for people in ways that actually matter. Someone people genuinely look forward to seeing.
That’s not nothing. That’s actually everything.
And I don’t think the younger version of me would just be proud of that. I think she would be absolutely ecstatic, especially about the dog thing.
So no, my life doesn’t look the way she thought it would. There’s no boyfriend in sight. There’s no classroom with my name on the door. Not yet. But I believe that the future holds possibilities I can’t see now, and that keeps me hopeful and motivated.
But I can say this: I make people smile. I am a light for the people around me. I am genuinely, authentically a good person. And I am so proud to be this version of myself.
I can’t wait for younger me to meet the future me. Because if future me is anything like I am right now? She is going to think I am so cool.
Featured image via Hannah Skelly on Unsplash
