Inspiration for these reflections can sometimes come from the strangest places.
I have been getting gel manicures on and off for probably about the last 15 years. It is a strategy to curb a very long-standing nail-biting habit and a reminder of how far I have come. I love looking at my healthy, strong nails and being able to make a tapping sound, generating Dolly Parton’s song 9 to 5 inside my head. And as long as I get them redone before the gel starts peeling, and I manage to resist the urge to rip it off and, in the process, damage my nails, they stay looking pretty.
At my most recent appointment, I decided, after a run of bright colours, that I felt like getting a neutral colour and chose a beige, ballet-pink shade.
When finished, I looked down at my nails and a thought struck me. What would my childhood self think of this colour? Would she be proud that I have curbed that habit people were constantly nagging me about, or would she be critical of the boring colour?
That led me to wonder: would my childhood self be proud of the adult I have become?
I think the answer would be a mix of yes and no.
When I was five, I said I wanted to be a dairy owner because I believed that would mean I got to eat lollies whenever I wanted.
A few years later, I said I wanted to be a fashion designer. This was because I loved watching the fashion design awards and wanted to see something I had created on TV. I loved drawing designs but was scared of the sewing machine.
As time went on, my career ambitions changed. I did well academically but constantly felt I was failing because I struggled with things others found easy. So I leaned more into the things I was praised for and avoided the things that were hard for me to master. I started believing that being an adult required that I make sacrifices, become the fixer of problems, be understanding and put the needs of others before my own.
In my last year of high school, I explored the possibility of art school and then determined it was ‘too risky’ and I wasn’t ‘good enough’. So I chose to pursue a career path that would be more stable, more practical, and sadly less creative. Originally working towards a career in public service.
So back to what little me would think of this. I think she would be proud of my career path and the things I have achieved. That I’m still trying to make the world a better place.
I think she would be pleased that creativity hasn’t stopped being a part of my life, but I think she would be slightly disappointed that I made it a hobby and not a career. And yet it has never fully left me, and now I’m finding ways to incorporate it into my work life, through doing exactly this: writing. And then her view of the world was limited, her goals linked to things she wanted more of, lollies and recognition.
That leads me to my next question:
Have I grown into the type of adult I needed when I was a child?
I think this one is easier to answer. I think this is a yes, with, of course, room for improvement and ongoing learning.
I think the adult I needed was someone who understood that:
- I wasn’t failing.
- I didn’t have to be useful to be worthy.
- I could care without taking on all the responsibility to fix things.
- Other people’s needs matter, but so do mine.
- I didn’t have to sacrifice or prove myself to be a good person.
