Meeting Myself at 15
As you walk into the untidy bedroom of the sleeping teenager, you notice the novels strewn around her. She obviously fell asleep reading. There is a copy of Richard Bach’s One on the other pillow, next to her sleeping head. And there is a copy of A Bridge Across Forever, newly started, tenting on her chest. At almost 16 her childlike appearance surprises you. Didn’t you look older, back then?
Johnathon Livingston Seagull, with a well-worn cover almost separated from its spine, sits on her cluttered nightstand. Your heart soars at the memory. How long has it been since you last read that? Personal reflection and the freedom of self-actualization have been at the heart of it all, all along.
The little girl stirs. Her sadness is easy to recognize. Even in her sleep, the stains of crusty tears are obvious.
You know about the suicide attempt, about six months ago. You know how her family thought it was a joke. That she was “just looking for attention, and not doing a good job of it” someone had said.
“You can’t even kill yourself that way.” echoes through her mind still. She wonders if they were more disappointed that she wanted to die, or more disappointed she didn’t know how to succeed.
She turns on her side, the book falls to the floor and a long clump of practically brown hair falls across her face. Without thinking, you reach out to slide it behind her ear but accidentally scratch her cheek, just a little.
Her eyes pop open. She’s looking right at you! She looks really scared.
Time to go.
You bolt, as quickly as possible, not thinking about her bedroom door. The little girl watches you and jumps up to follow. Oooops, you should have opened her door, so she wouldn’t have slammed into it trying to follow you.
You really wish you had handled this better. You are already gone. Gone back to wherever you came from, hoping and praying the attempt you believe is coming won’t be the attempt that proves her family how wrong they are about her.
That proof is meant for another day, in another place, in an entirely different way.
How I met Myself
We all have different versions of ourselves. Knowing this, and experiencing it, happens differently for each of us. Some describe their connection with their future-self like a connection with an elder they trust and respect. Others describe their connection with their future-self as the relationship they always wished they’d had with their mother (if they are a woman) or their father (if they are a man.) The guidance we receive from the most-wise and knowing version of ourselves, the one who is the most invested in our success, will feel different for everyone.
Which is why explaining the connection I have with my future-self can be as difficult for me to explain as it is to those without their own connection.
What I am providing you today is the story of how I officially met my future-self. How my first remembered meeting left me scared and confused while our most profound introduction allowed me to connect with her, the one I am becoming. Our connection is now strong enough I feel her guidance as I live my life - daily.
Faking Authenticity
“Just fake it ‘til you make it!” was what I was told most of my life.
In my twenties, this translated to hide your insecurities, or nobody will like you.
As I grew, so did the inspiration from this phrase.
In my thirties, it translated into my first attempts at becoming my most authentic self, by ‘acting as if’. I created every chance I could to pretend to be the version of me that I most wanted to become, someday. As a traveling salesperson, I used my ‘time on the road’ to step into different versions of who I hoped I was becoming.
At the time, it still felt like I was just, ‘faking it to make it’, though. It didn’t matter that I had shifted my perspective to illuminating the qualities I was looking to claim as my own instead of hiding my insecurities about the qualities I was looking to disown. Simply by not covering up what I thought was ‘unacceptable’ and choosing to mimic what I thought was ‘acceptable,’ I was still just, faking it to make it.
After more than two decades of trying unsuccessfully I learned neither edge of this similar imbalance was ever any more authentic than the other. Neither ever got me to the balance point I was trying to obtain. Nothing was working to connect me with the me I was ‘surviving life’ to someday become. No matter what I tried!
~~~
Watching the old woman disappear through my bedroom door was terrifying.
I’m in the bathroom splashing water on my face asking the reflection in the mirror, “was that a ghost?” Noticing the scratch on my face I look down at my chewed-to-the-nub fingernails and know, for a fact, I didn’t just scratch myself.
“That was a fucking ghost!”
Too scared to go back to my room I crawl into bed with my mom. So carefully, not wanting to wake her. Not wanting to explain why I am as scared as I am. Not wanting her to recognize my need. I pray she won’t tell me to go back to my own bed.
~~~
The fear of that encounter remains deeply within me, embedded way beneath every scary thing that happens later on in my life.
Because, I know with certainty there are ghosts, for an absolute fact.
~~~
Fast forwarding through time and space from 1988 Santa Barbara, California to 2019 Bellingham, Washington. I’m deeply hypnotized. I’m practicing self-hypnosis during my certification training. I am in a room full of other trainees, practicing their self-hypnosis too.
And, she comes to me, again.
“I’m sorry I scared you.” I hear.
Hmmm? Confusion clearly emerges from my somewhat meditative state.
“I am sorry I forgot how far we were from knowing each other, back then.”
Wait. What???
Then, I feel her sit down beside me. She is introducing herself to me in a way that I can understand and accept. She is me, my future-self. I am her, the little-one she is still nurturing and guiding, in spite of my advancing years. Just like I was learning to guide clients through what was called ‘informing child technique’, to give their inner child the clarity they need from the grown up they come to session as, for that change to ripple through their entire timeline.
Suddenly, everything begins to make so much more sense!
As soon as I get home, I am gushing to my husband about what has happened. How I didn’t see a ghost at 15, as I had always told him. “I was visited by the me I am going to become.”
“How?” he looks so confused. “How do you learn to do that?” he genuinely seems curious.
“I don’t know, today.” I smile so big my cheeks hurt. He isn’t calling me crazy. “I just know that I will know how, someday.”
~~~
My future-self and I grow a deeper and stronger connection each and every day. Now, I see her feet standing in my shoes when I look down. I feel her guiding the steps I take along my path. When I feel alone, she reminds me of her presence. I am calmer and more confident in my now, because of her gifted clarity.
The miracle of possibility is profound, in the past, in the now, and in the future.
#Future-Self
My future-self and I. The miracle of possibility
Do we have different versions of ourselves?
The journey to personal reflection and the freedom of self-actualization will be YOUniquely yours.
Your future-self connection is waiting.
Stop Faking Authenticity. There is no reason to “Just fake it ‘til you make it!” by ‘acting as if'.
I shifted my perspective, so can you. There is a 3-Step Roadmap available ready for your customization.