What I Would Tell My Younger Self
If only I would listen...
I have a part-time retail job on the weekends, and when leaving work the other day, I realized I’m one of the older employees. Though I consider myself young(ish) in spirit, I thought about how bright-eyed and idealistic younger employees are, how smooth and unweathered their skin looked, and how spry their bodies were, able to move heavy boxes that I can’t. I pondered this while walking my dog later that afternoon. What would I tell my younger self? What would I do differently?
Take care of my body. It’s the only one I’ve got.
When I was in my teens, I was about 110 pounds soaking wet and five feet tall. One day when I was 18, I looked down and I was finally developing a curvier body, and I’d made it all the way to five foot three. Then came childbirth followed by middle age. My body was no longer recognizable. I got heavier when I wasn’t paying attention, and I lost strength and flexibility. Ugh.
I would eat better and pay attention to how I felt after eating certain foods. While it may not have been possible then, I would have identified food sensitivities like dairy and gluten that are now a conscious thought before I put anything in my mouth. Rather than dousing myself with baby oil to get as good a tan as a white girl with European heritage can get, I would wear sunscreen and reapply it frequently. Perhaps that would have staved off the freckles that dot my arms and the sunspots on my face. I would exercise every day to prepare myself for the physical and mental challenges of adulting.
I would be kinder to myself.
In my childhood, I was always guarded, waiting for the next outburst, the next punishment and the next empty bottle in the bin. As a defense mechanism, I grew up faster than I would have liked, and I was very hard on myself. Always on edge, I tried to anticipate the day’s expectations to be sure I did my chores and went above and beyond. When I didn’t make the grade and could see a punishment coming my way, I criticized myself for not “being good enough” and not doing enough to dodge my single mom’s wrath. I was so busy playing defense that I didn’t have the bandwidth to play offense.
What I really needed were a few daily affirmations, Stuart Smalley-style*.
“I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.”
“I deserve good things.”
“I refuse to beat myself up.
[If you don’t know who Stuart Smalley is, Google him. He was a hoot!]
I would have spent more time with my family.
In my primary household, I got out of the house and as far away as I could, whether it was playing tag with neighborhood kids, wiffle ball with my brother in the backyard, or riding my bike to the Grabowski’s for horror flicks and sleepovers. For others, that was just a day in the life of being a kid. For me, it was survival, and I don’t regret spending time with friends, some of whom became family.
What I would have done differently is spend more time with the relatives who loved me and supported me unconditionally. They knew what my home life was like, and they did what they were “allowed” to do to make things easier. One summer, my grandmother and aunt took me to Hawaii which was pure heaven. I wish I’d spent more time with them growing up, and I wish I had taken time to get to know my dad better. I saw him every week for dinner, and we visited his parents once or twice a year, but we didn’t see each other much outside of those regular visits.
In my 20s and 30s, I thought I was too busy raising a family, working full-time and going to school to spend more time with them. I regret that now, because you don’t get that time back. My dad was such a quiet man that he was hard to get to know, but I never doubted his love for me. I wish I had made more of an effort to show him how much he meant to me. It’s too late for that now, but I hope he knew how much I loved him.
What I can do now
While I can’t change the past and am not going to spend a lot of energy wishing I could, I can apply those lessons to my life now. There are ways I can make my life better now, so when I’m in my 70s, I can be proud of the progress I’ve made and grateful that I took care of my mind and body before it was too late. I can make more time for my daughter and step-kids, my aunt, my brother and his family, and lifelong friends. Now that I know what works for my body, I can eat better to fuel my body and do exercises that give me strength and flexibility.
Being kinder to myself is still a struggle for me, but I no longer blame myself for not doing enough chores or meeting unrealistic expectations. I can write daily affirmations that would make Stuart Smalley proud. Cheers to another 30 years!
It all sounds so familiar ❤️ You’re making me feel like I need to write some notes to my younger self.