Sometimes I catch myself wondering if my past self could somehow catch a glimpse of who I am today, would they be proud?

It’s just a random thought, but it tends to visit me in quiet moments the kind of thought that doesn’t just pass through, but lingers. And when it does, something inside me shifts. It makes me want to become a better version of myself not just for the future, but for the younger me who once dreamed, hoped, and tried.

Would they be disappointed? Or would they smile a little, recognizing how far we’ve come?

Truthfully, I think they’d be surprised in a good way. No, I’m not perfect. But I’m no longer who I was. I’ve changed. I’ve grown. I’ve stumbled, gotten up, and achieved a few meaningful things along the way. That’s something. That’s growth.

And just like I imagine my past self looking at me now with hope, I imagine my future self doing the same watching me with pride for continuing to move forward, despite the doubts, despite the hard days.

So I keep going.

I keep learning.

I keep growing.

I keep choosing progress over perfection.