I just read through some things I wrote in college and I kind of liked them. And I kind of like the person who wrote them.
I mean, I realize that person was me but she feels very different from the me I know now. She seems more confident that people will find her thoughts interesting. Or maybe it’s just that she finds her own thoughts pretty interesting. She’s a little more artless, a little more naive and yet a little more reflective.
She seems younger. And that makes sense because, well, she was. And she seems like she had more time to think. Or gave herself more time to think. Or thought more.
And questioned herself less.
I can tell that the me who wrote those things was in the midst of a lot of learning. She was learning who she is, defining herself and the world around her. She was absorbing so much, with heart and eyes wide open.
I hope that I am a person my former self would like to know if she read the things I have written, but I’m not feeling so sure about that.
And something tells me that means it’s time for a change.