All the things I loved
Back at my mother’s house, I found a box with old notebooks and a binder I used as a scrapbook. In it I found sheets of stickers that stayed untouched, I remember being afraid of wasting them. There were drawings of the house I once wanted to live in. A page further, a written story, a manifestation of sorts, about the man I would marry and our children. And there was so much writing. Almost every journal page started by addressing an imaginary audience: “Hi everyone, you will never guess what happened.”
Everything changed and it’s all the same
I couldn’t stop giggling at myself as I was flipping through these pages. I cringed a lot, most stories were written in teenage-slang, but found it endearing to be reminded of my younger self. Besides not to much has changed has it? This blog is just a luxurious version of my babyjournals. Same girl, same imaginary audience. Only now, the teenage-slang is replaced ‘you spend too much time online-slang’. And now people do actually read along, but I haven’t changed a bit in essence.
Sparkly leotards and cartwheels
At seven, I did gymnastics, and I was good at it. Skinny, but strong. My favorites were the uneven bars and the beam. I loved hanging from my arms and the ritual of putting chalk on my hands. I remember always having an elaborate wishlist of fancy leotards with sparkles on them. I was a Spice Girls fan, a Britney-loving gymnastics girlie who journaled a lot and I wrote several book proposals as a teen that never made it past chapter three. ‘I couldn’t help but wonder’ (as I quote another one of my idols Carrie Bradshaw) did I ever even grow up?
When I turned 35 I felt a methamorphosis coming, I couldn’t tell how it would go or in what way or form. Nearly three years later I ‘see’ my big pivotal moment was actually me getting back to the core likes, interests of myself. Somehow turning 35 put me at a crossroads where parts of myself aligned in homeostasis. I felt naturally drawn to the things I used to love as a kid: journaling, taking photographs, scrapbooking, doing gymnastics, cooking for my family, and curating my wardrobe to dress up as stereotypes or vibes I relate to. But it wasn’t only knowing what I liked that I needed. It also took some time to develop the confidence and the freedom, both financially and emotionally, to make space for those hobbies in my life.
Isn’t it poetic how i returned to self
In 2019 I published Dialogue with Self. I wrote a chapter: your return to self.
‘We are everything and nothing all at once. We choose to identify ourselves with some aspects of the human experience more than we do with others. But there are things that come natural to you, passions or charactheristics you naturally or instinctively feel drawn to. It’s as if you are a magnet to them.
(…. )It’s what you’re left with when you are stripped down to your core.’
Even when we get older, our subconscious keeps trying to show us a fitting version of what we used to love. For me, the age-appropriate version of gymnastics first looked like yoga, which I also love. But the floor element was never my absolute favorite. The bars were. So don’t you find it funny that I’m now hanging on a vertical pole two or three times a week to get out of my head and find childlike joy?
How do you remember what you once loved?
Look for the clues
Write down the things you did when you were a kid, that made you forget time and space while you were doing it.
The sudden nudges.
The things you feel pulled to try that maybe don’t even make sense, not even to yourself.
The things you never stopped doing.
For me, that’s writing and journaling.
Think poetically about your life.
How would you love to be remembered? Part of your answer might be ego, but it’s still telling. If people reminisce about you one day, what would you love to be the first thing on their mind?
So, what did you love when you were little, and what are you doing now that looks suspiciously like it?
Love always,