How does this happen?

Once, people told me I was a good writer. That I should be a writer. At a wedding a few years ago, acquaintances from high school told me that they thought I would be a ... writer, or something. And now... I can hardly form a coherent sentence. So now there is a conflict between this person my adolescent self believed to be true and the adult who sits at the keyboard, stuck in an eternal writer's block.  If this thing I believed to be true about myself is in fact, not true, how many other things conflict with my perception of them?

 

I know I'm not nearly as smart as I used to be. Motherhood has dropped my IQ considerably. I'll blame it on the lack of sleep. But I'm not as belligerent as I used to be, either. (My sweetie would find that hard to believe, I'll admit.) I'm not as confrontational, I'm not as shy. I'm more patient. I am, in short, a different person. That's part of growing up.

But those elements of our former selves that we want to reclaim... can we get that back? I'd like to believe that yes, we can make those sorts of changes with conscious effort. We can regain those things of our youth that we wish we'd never lost, like confidence and optimism. We can shed those habits that no longer serve us, like negativity and criticism. Life is, after all, what we make of it. Right?

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