I’m currently deep in the archives of my blog, rereading posts from 2009, 2010, and 2011 as I prepare to completely revamp my category and tag system. It’s been quite the adventure and gives me a really good look at the girl I was in my early twenties as I navigated college, work, and internships. This was also the era where I was becoming estranged from my father, so I’m having a lot of emotions as I read back through those posts and recognize the pain in that decision.
Reading through those posts, I’m startled by the amount of personal growth I’ve been through in the past decade. Logically, I know I have been through a gauntlet of growth, between coming to terms with my sexuality, deconstructing my faith, embracing and loving my fat body, becoming more independent, and celebrating career milestones. But I can really see the difference when I compare how I talked about myself then to how I talk about myself now.
The girl I was then was so very hard on herself. Perfection was the goal, and I would beat myself up over and over again when I didn’t live up to these unrealistic standards. I just want to give my younger self a great big hug and tell her to loosen up. It’s all going to be okay. Life is going to work out in ways she never expected.
At that time in my life, I was obsessed with my weight. I was only 20ish lbs overweight (although looking through the pictures of that time in my life, I think I was actually just fine), but all I wanted was to be skinny. I was a yo-yo dieter who wrote weekly weigh-in posts and trashed myself when I didn’t lose weight or have a perfect week of eating and exercise. I was consumed with wanting to become a runner, signing up for half-marathons multiple times, only to revert my registration to the 5k distance once the training became too much for me. To be fair to myself, fat positivity wasn’t really a part of our lexicon at that time. This was the era of The Office, where fatphobic language was rampant, and The Biggest Loser, where fat people were screamed at in the hopes of “inspiring” them to lose weight. It makes sense that I was obsessed with dieting, that I thought that by getting my weight under control (whatever that means), I would evolve into a happier, more fulfilled person.
At this time, I was working 20 hours a week at a preschool, taking 4 college classes, and working at an internship a few hours a week. My mom and I were struggling financially, barely making ends meet. There was a lot going on, and I really wish I could have given myself a break. I was under enough stress without adding dieting to the mix!
The girl I was then was consumed with being the perfect Christian girl and finding the perfect Christian husband. I had always struggled with my faith—not my belief in God, but in carving out quiet time to pray and read the Bible. I struggled against my “sinful nature” (i.e., reading books that didn’t exactly align with my beliefs like romance novels, my regular masturbation habit, my propensity towards cursing and getting angry when things didn’t go my way). It wasn’t until I began the process of deconstructing my faith and learning about other former Christians who struggled like I did that I realized what I was going through was normal and it didn’t make me a bad Christian. It made me human.
These days, faith really isn’t a part of my life anymore. I don’t go to church, I don’t pray, I don’t even have a Bible at home to read. I still believe in God and I still love listening to Christian music when the moment hits me. I love listening to podcasts that study the Bible through a faith-based lens (The Bible Binge) and podcasts that deconstruct Christianity and Christian pop culture (Good Christian Fun). I’m happy with where I am right now, even though 23-year-old me would probably be appalled at it.
Another thing I’ve been struck by when rereading my older posts is my idealism. There was so much I wanted from my life, and I would get so upset with myself when I didn’t live up to the arbitrary standards I set. In 2011, my word of the year was “risk,” which I chose because I felt like I was living a small life and didn’t seek out challenges that would force me out of my comfort zone. On the one hand, I think that’s a pretty normal experience for someone in their early twenties to have. We are pretty idealistic at that age and have so much hope for what our lives will look like! On the other hand, I just wish I could have sat my younger self down and pointed to all the different ways she had taken major, life-altering risks already:
- Sending a letter to effectively sever the relationship with my father, something that took a level of courage I didn’t know I possessed and was the catalyst for improving my self-worth and life as a whole
- Switching my major from education to communications a semester before I was scheduled to graduate, which prolonged my college career but allowed me to graduate with a major much more relevant to my skills and have a career I love
- Seeking out challenges like half-marathon training (even if I failed at it) and a marketing internship because they sounded like fun
Hindsight, of course, is 20/20 and I know we are much more capable of giving our younger selves grace than our present selves. It makes me wonder what things I’m giving myself a hard time about now that, in 10 years, I’ll wish I had given myself a break about.
Reading through my older blog posts is not always cringe-inducing, of course. I used to run a series called Vlog Fridays where I answered questions from blog readers. Watching those videos makes me smile at the girl I used to be. I was such a cutie pie, you guys! Ooh, I just want to smoosh my younger self because she was adorable and I love seeing a time capsule of my personality at this time in my life.
This was the time when personal blogging was really big and so were blogging awards. These were just really silly awards in which one blogger would fill out a short survey or write 10 things about themselves, and then tag in a few other people to do the same. There was always a badly designed image to go along with the award, and it was so much fun to get tagged in and to tag other bloggers. Reading through the list of bloggers I used to tag, I realize just about all of them aren’t blogging anymore. But that’s just the way things go. People evolve, get married and have children, find other hobbies. For me, blogging has always been a constant in my life, something I turned to when I was lonely and in need of friends and an outlet.
I’m not always proud of the person I was on my blog back in the years of 2009-2011. But I am happy she had this space to be herself. Back then, I didn’t have a core group of girlfriends. I tried to join a young adults group at my church, but I felt very invisible and ignored whenever I went. I tried to join a Tampa-area bloggers group, but again, I felt invisible and ignored. I could never seem to grow any of the friendships I made in my college classes into anything deeper.
In my real life, it felt like my personality was just not enough for other people. I was too shy, too quiet, too Christian. What I did have, though, was my blog. This space became a haven for me. I was able to be my true, full self and people responded to it. I developed deep, meaningful friendships with people through my blog—friendships that hold true to this day. I had email chains and Skype video calls and text chains with blog friends who had different beliefs than me, different lives, but still loved me for who I was. It was only because of this blog and the people I met through it that I was able to finally go to a book club meeting in 2013 and meet the women who would become my best friends. It was only because of this blog and the people I met through it that I was able to open up my worldview, analyze my faith, take a good look at my sexuality, learn more about fatphobia, and hone my writing skills.
The girl I was then is so very different than the girl I am today. And the girl I am today will be so very different than the girl I am in 10 years. That’s a good thing, that’s what we want from our lives. To be continually growing and opening our minds and discovering who we are in deeper ways. It’s hard to recognize the girl who was writing blog posts in that time period, but she is a part of my history and for that, I want nothing but the best for her.
How would your 10-year-younger self react to the person you are today?