People always ask: what would you tell your younger self, and for a long time, I didn’t have an answer. I couldn’t find one that felt right.
Now I see why.
I couldn’t give my past self the words because the part of me that would have said them wasn’t built yet. I didn’t have the answer because I hadn’t done the time. I hadn’t spent decades trying to make it all better—only to find out how slowly progress actually happened.
That’s what I’d tell him now. That most of the time healing doesn’t mean your life gets better, only that you do—inside your head.
That you begin finding a voice in there that’s kinder. That’s more supportive when the one that’s anxious and full of shame begins to talk.
That healing doesn’t mean you don’t sometimes spiral still, just that you bring yourself out of the tailspin more quickly.
But it all happens slow.
Sometimes maddeningly slow.
Like nothing is working for what feels like forever—until one day you realize that the last spiral wasn’t much of a spiral at all, more like a dip.
That it took years to learn all the things you believe about yourself, so it makes sense it would take some significant measure of time to unlearn them too.
I’d tell him that the only way I know to get there more quickly is to begin building a connection to his inner child, to his higher self, to the great voice of wisdom within him, as early as he possibly can.
I’d tell him that some days he’ll have to force that voice into himself with great effort, on others he’ll only need to make the space for it to come. But that over time, that voice will grow more self-assured. More willing to offer guidance in times of need. More optimistic that it won’t just be heard, but listened to.
Until one day, I would tell him, it will be there when you need it most.
Triggering calm instead of chaos.
Backing you up when the voice of the ego gets too harsh.
Helping you feel love and stillness, no matter what’s happening outside.
That’s what I’d want him to know: that he has everything he needs inside him, and that discovering what that actually is…
…is meant to go slow.
And I guess, I realize in writing this now, that my present-day self needed the reminder too.
Hopefully, so did you.
- Will
Subscriber Feature: Making Peace with the Voice That Keeps You Up at Night
When your inner roommate turns against you, it doesn’t always sound harsh. It sounds familiar. It sounds like you. That’s what makes it so hard to catch.