Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like if time allowed us to have conversations across the years. Imagine if I could sit across from my younger self wide-eyed, uncertain, yet full of dreams and pass her a note filled with wisdom I’ve gathered along the way.
What would I say? What words would help her carry less weight on her shoulders and more hope in her heart?
The very first line of my message would be simple but powerful, “You don’t have to figure everything out right now.”
Back then, I thought life was supposed to follow a perfect sequence, go to school, graduate, get a good job, achieve certain milestones, and tick off boxes society created.
But life doesn’t always move in a straight line. Sometimes it takes unexpected turns, delays, or even pauses. And that’s not failure. That’s simply life unfolding at its own pace.
I would remind her to be kinder to herself. Mistakes are not the end of the world, they are just lessons wrapped in different disguises. She didn’t have to cry so hard over every stumble or carry shame for every misstep.
Each challenge she faced was only preparing her for the wisdom she would later share. I’d tell her, “Don’t be so quick to judge yourself harshly. Growth takes time, and even setbacks carry meaning.”
Another thing I would whisper is, “Protect your peace at all costs.” Not everyone deserves space in your mind or heart.
Some people will walk into your life and bring joy, while others will bring lessons, and that’s perfectly fine. Friendships, relationships, and even opportunities come in seasons.
The end of one doesn’t mean you are less worthy. Learn to let go without bitterness and embrace the freedom that comes with release.
I’d also tell her not to be afraid to shine. Back then, she often hid her talents, her voice, and her ideas for fear of being judged or misunderstood. I’d reassure her, “The world needs your uniqueness. Don’t dim your light just to make others comfortable."
Fear of judgment is a prison, but the moment she chooses courage, she will see how much power and freedom come from being her authentic self.
And of course, I’d add this line with emphasis, “Gratitude is your anchor.” Even in moments when life feels heavy, there is always something to be thankful for. A small win, a kind word, a new lesson, or simply the gift of waking up each morning. Gratitude doesn’t erase problems, but it shifts the perspective and brings peace to the heart.
Toward the end of my message, I’d write a note of hope to her saying:
“Dear younger me, you will laugh again after the tears. You will stand tall after moments of doubt. You will survive the things you once thought would break you. One day, you will look back and realize that every struggle was shaping you into someone wiser, stronger, and more compassionate.
Trust the process, even when it feels slow. Believe in yourself, even when others doubt. And above all, never stop moving forward, because your future is brighter than you can see right now.”
If my younger self could read these words, I think she would breathe easier, walk lighter, and worry less about tomorrow. But since life doesn’t allow messages to travel backward, I choose to carry these words now, not just as advice to my past, but as a compass for my present and future.
After all, maybe the best message to my younger self is the same message I need to remember today, life is a journey, not a race, and every step has meaning.
Shalom