Chapter 1: The Complexity of Reflection

Have you ever taken a moment to think back on who you were a decade ago and felt a mix of emotions? Do you find yourself laughing, cringing, or even feeling regret? It's common to look back and shake your head at past decisions, but it’s important to remember that each version of ourselves was shaped by our experiences and knowledge at the time.

When I was 16, I began to navigate life with a clearer understanding. Friends often praised my kindness, which made me embrace that identity. At that age, I recognized the importance of self-respect and made the tough decision to end a relationship that wasn't healthy for me. Looking back, while I may have been somewhat naïve, I admire the strength I had to choose my worth over comfort.

As I turned 18, my aspirations grew bolder. I dreamed of writing and exploring the world. My second boyfriend, who had an adventurous spirit, inspired me to think beyond my small town. We planned a trip to Spain after my graduation, but ten days before our departure, he betrayed my trust. Heartbroken, I faced a crossroads: to wallow in sadness or to seize the moment. I chose the latter and embarked on a solo journey to Spain, which turned out to be one of the most enriching experiences of my life.

By the time I reached 20, I immersed myself in the world of sustainable living while homesteading in Finland. I embraced organic practices, shunned beauty products, and found joy in nature. My days were filled with gardening and reading about environmentalism, and I felt a strong connection to my values.

Fast forward five years: I often find myself reflecting on past choices and feeling bewildered by how I have changed. I settled into relationships that didn’t serve me, putting aside my passions for others. The adventurous spirit of my 16-year-old self would have never allowed that.

I remember my first job as a server, where I felt pressured to conform to societal standards of beauty, leading me to buy cosmetics I never truly needed. The carefree essence of my 20-year-old self would have scoffed at such changes.

Sometimes, I worry about what my younger selves would think of me now. My 20-year-old self, who lived without a phone or social media, might be disappointed by my reliance on technology. The adventurous 18-year-old would be shocked to learn I hadn't traveled internationally in nearly seven years. The artistic 16-year-old would likely be saddened by my diminished creative pursuits.

Life has thrown me curveballs: the pandemic, heartbreak, and personal injuries reshaped my path. I transitioned through various degrees and interests, from acupressure to fashion. My values have evolved significantly over time.

Seven years ago, my core values revolved around spontaneity and adventure. Today, my focus has shifted towards feeling alive in my body, connection, and love. While I once envisioned myself as an action figure, I’ve learned the importance of gentleness and balance in my life.

Yes, I may romanticize my past self, yet I also embrace who I am today. The struggles I faced shaped me into a more self-aware individual. As I strive to understand myself better, I find solace in knowing that perhaps at 40, I will look back at my 25-year-old self with the same fondness.

Thank you for taking the time to reflect with me. If you're interested in more stories like this, feel free to follow me and subscribe to my email list!

Chapter 2: Embracing the Romanticized Past

In this chapter, let's explore how we can realistically romanticize our lives while acknowledging our growth.

The first video, "How to ROMANTICIZE YOUR LIFE realistically," offers insights on embracing the beauty of your past while staying grounded in the present.

As we delve deeper, it's essential to understand why we tend to romanticize aspects of our lives, even those that weren't entirely positive.

The second video, "Why Do I Romanticize Parts of My Life That Weren't Even Good," discusses the reasons behind our tendency to idealize certain moments, shedding light on our growth and understanding.