This New Year, I spent a lot of time lamenting the “me” I might have been. The New Year always reveals the “You Are Here” tear drop on the life map. Having gone 39 rounds in the ring with life thus far, I wondered how life might have gone differently, if I could go back in time and coach my former self on how to be a better me.
I would help the younger me from the sidelines, advising her on how much more she could do with her life, than she yet imagined or dreamed possible for herself. If I could only give that young, naïve, struggling girl a solid pair of boots to know herself with life might easily have gone much better for her.
On the Eve of 2018, I thought about paying myself back for the years I spent lacking belief in myself, lacking belief in the possibility of a better future. I didn’t know it was okay to take risks, trust myself and dream big to get to where I wanted to be in life. Instead, I was frightened. I hid in my world, surrounded by the impossible, and tapped out in the most important round of my own life, without a fight.
Thoughtless decisions I made in my 20’s, cost me many hard days in my adult life—fighting for financial survival; fighting for emotional survival; fighting for a better life for my children, knowing they deserved it; always fighting an uphill battle against the me I was. I can’t help but wonder what I might have been, if I would’ve had faith in myself, even an itty-bitty faith, the size of a mustard seed. I catch myself sighing and it brings me back to the now.
Could this be the year, I wonder, that all my hopes and dreams become real? I want to apply lessons of faith I missed out on in my 20’s to my life now. “Keep going,” I would say to that young girl, “You’re closer than you think you are,” I would cheer. “Don’t let discouragement keep you from achieving,” I caution. “It’s okay to fail, it’s never okay to quit on everything so you don’t have to,” I press. Always remember, I tell her, “You’re a champion and I believe in you!”
I want to take that expedient faith I have in the me I left behind, and pour it into the me I am in 2018. Though we are different, we are still very much the same. I don’t want to just look at the land of promise, I want to live there. This is the year I go 12 rounds with the mountain, and make it—MOVE! 2018 is the year I blow up my Facebook page with happily-ever-after photos of life in the dream-house! 2018 is the year I break up with my abusive domestic partners: Fear and Doubt. 2018 is the year I get to stop talking to my former self about what I might have been. Instead, I stay the course with hope, faith and love as my companions, and transform into the person I might still become. This is the year I take a dunk in the river flowing with milk and honey and drink the cows under the table! My new friends, Hope, Faith and Love, come running to greet me, “we’ve been waiting for you to join us for a very long time,” they tell me.
I’m giddy with child-like excitement to experiment with the unleashed power of faith in my life, and make all my young-girl dreams come true. My younger me didn’t have faith enough in herself to walk towards her dreams, yet here they are—REAL. I dive into this new chapter of my life, taking a page from my younger me’s book, and rewrite my new chapter armed with lessons of faith, I didn’t have back then.
“Thank you.” I tell her, “You’re more valuable to me, than you could ever know.”
I could never cross over into the promise land without her, and she had the tough job of making circles in the desert for almost 40 years. I don’t know who I would be without her, and I don’t want to pretend to be somebody she’s not, and I could never leave her behind. Life’s happenings—motherhood, career—may have hidden her vigor, but here she is. I see her clearly now and the faith she lacked, I now have to pull her through.
Here’s to you, woman of the now, may all your dreams come true! We don’t have to run this race alone with ourselves, we are stronger together, knowing that we can pick each other up along the way, pulling that young girl we left behind right along with us, knowing how badly she wants to make it too! I finish off the night with a toast to myself, my former self, “Cheers,” I say, “Here’s to finishing bigger than we can dream, being better than we ever have!” I tell her. May your cup runneth over this year, my dear me, you really deserve it—Happy New Year!
