Give Your Younger You a High Five

This is a follow up to my previous post about giving your younger you a hug. I didn't intend to write a follow up post about that, but here we are. I mostly want to write it down for my grandchildren to read when they're old enough to appreciate it, but also for anyone who can relate. So here goes!

There are times in your life when you need to make big decisions. Against logic and everyone else's advice, you do what your inner voice tells you. Sometimes you just feel what you need to do. And when things turn out well because of those decisions, it's high-five time!

If you read my previous post about hugging your younger you, then you know that in my early adulthood, things were really bad financially, and I was trying to work my way out of poverty.

During the time that I lived in subsidized housing, I was working for a prominent high-tech company in Utah. They were paying me $4.75/hour. I couldn't make it on that amount of money, but I had no other options at the time. Finally, I found a new job working for the prominent church in the state. That was a little bit better, but it was still only about $12,000/year. I remember thinking that if I could only make $14,000/year, I could breathe. Or if I could even make $20,000/year, I'd have it made.

A friend and neighbor then told me about a different high-tech company in town, and it seemed too good to be true. I would start out at $24,000/year? And a chance for regular raises? It was unreal! Do I leave a solid job working at the church, or do I take this chance and go into the unknown realm of computer software support? Well, I took the chance, and I never looked back. High five for my younger self! :-)

After a few years of bliss working for that company and finding a low-cost rental home next to some of the best people that I've ever known, the company was acquired by....you guessed it...the other high-tech company that I used to work for, the one that paid me so little. The job was still okay, but I started realizing how much patriarchy and unfairness ruled that company. There were definitely good people that worked there, and I am still friends with some of them to this day. But I could see the unfairness where women were treated different from men, to the point that a small group of women met in my home one day to discuss our options. In our inexperience and lack of legal representation, we hit a dead end. It was then that I realized that I had to make some changes. So I did just that.

I was about 29-30 years old at the time. I looked in to a new program at Utah State University, which offered a bachelors degree in Technical and Professional Writing. So during the next year or so, I took classes at the local college to fulfill some general education requirements for the state of Utah. I researched where to live and where to sign up my daughter for elementary school when the time came to move.

I asked friends for advice, and I specifically remember my local ecclesiastical leader (a good friend, a good man), and he strongly counseled me not to leave my job to go back to school. But my inner voice told me something different. And I followed my own inner voice. High five to my inexperienced, younger self that trusted herself!

All of this was done before the internet that we know today, so the research took a long time. Applying for financial aid, housing, etc. was stressful. And back then (1996), it was almost unheard of to see a 31-year-old single mom in a university setting as a full-time student. And it was unheard of for someone to cash out their entire 401(k) and use it to live on while going back to school. But that's what I did. And to this day, it was one of the best decisions of my life because it opened the gateway to where I am now. Seriously, I look back now and think wow. High five to that 30-something mom AND her daughter for going for it.

I'm not sharing all of this because I think I'm wiser than anyone else. And I don't think that the way that I did things is best for everyone. I feel very fortunate that it worked out in my favor. I feel fortunate that I felt a deep, inner guidance on the path that I should take. Throughout my life, I've rarely, if ever, received answers to decisions while praying. I've always had this inner compass, this inner voice that guided me. I still have it.

I have made some stupid decisions as well, but looking back, some of those decisions and their consequences were necessary for my own growth. Some bad decisions were due to lack of experience or knowledge. Some bad decisions were due to impatience. But when things really counted, I managed to listen to that inner voice that told me when to take a risk, even when it put me far outside my comfort zone and away from friends and family. So high five to that young mom back then in the 1990s.

My cute daughter and I packed up and moved to northern Utah, to Cache Valley, to a wonderful place. We cried as we left our home and friends in Utah County, but a great adventure was ahead of us! She had just completed third grade. We would spend the next two years living in on-campus family housing at the university. And we would have an amazing time. It may seem silly now, but we were so excited to live in that family housing on campus. It was a two-story townhome, and there were 1 1/2 bathrooms! Oh, joy!!! It was the nicest place that we had ever lived in.

We were cash poor, but our lives were so rich. Doing the university thing full time gave me time to be a more "present" mom. We went camping (it was cheap!), canned some peaches, sewed, did some family history and scrapbooking, and lots of things that were just perfect (and cheap!). I volunteered at her school, which was also on the university campus. I taught an internet safety class to the kids (all of this was still new-ish to everyone). My daughter started playing the violin. She got blue ribbons at the fair for things that she made. We have continued some friendships from that time. Cache Valley was good for both of us.

Fast-forward two years. Time for graduation. I got my degree! High five to one of the only nontraditional students at the university! High five to my younger, 20-something friends that welcomed me and were absolutely awesome!

Decision time. Where to live and who to work for. Stay in Utah closer to family? Stay in Utah where I knew pretty much how life would be? Or do something different?

I interviewed with my previous company that was in Utah Valley. I could have slipped back into that company so easily, so effortlessly...and then I realized that I would still also be stuck in a patriarchal work culture. I wasn't a feminist back then, but things just felt wrong there. With my degree, there were more opportunities, and I didn't have to go back to that company. I also interviewed with the church that I had previously worked for. Oh, the salaries were insulting. Really. It was awful.

I was also yearning to learn more about other people. Utah isn't known for its diversity when compared with other areas, and I wanted to learn for myself, and I wanted my daughter to learn about other people who were different from us, whether it be religious, race, cultures, etc. We weren't getting that experience in Utah, and I really wanted it for both of us.

So I interviewed out of state. The company flew me there for an interview, and it was an all-day interview with multiple people in the department that was hiring. I was treated like an equal, I was treated like I knew something and that I could contribute something valuable to this company. It really was a new feeling for me. But I was unsure. We had no family there, no friends, no nothing. But that evening, I drove out of town to explore, and I ended up east of the city and saw fields of corn with the sun setting off to the west. It all suddenly felt right. So I accepted the job offer. High five to the young woman, unsophisticated, inexperienced, but brave enough to strike out on this new adventure with only her young daughter with her.

I want to say that "the rest is history" and that everything was peachy after that. It was and it wasn't. It took more than a year to adjust to this new life. It was hard. Really, really hard. I wanted to move back to Utah so badly for the first year. We weren't really welcomed into our new congregation at church, the school system was completely different, we had no family support, and I was gone at work, leaving my daughter to be one of those latch-key kids. The commute was longer than I had ever had, and I was learning how to be a homeowner (that's a whole other story of buying our first house!). So many changes all at once, so many expensive things happening that year, getting my wits about me at my new job. It was a lot. So here's a high five AND a hug to my 33-year-old self AND to my young daughter for persevering, enduring, and not giving up! I even learned how to use a drill, and my daughter started mowing the lawn! High five to us! :-)

In subsequent years, there were ups and downs, and there still are. But life is good. It's so, so good. I look back and think of that small town girl from Wyoming, the one that learned how to type on a manual typewriter, the one that walked pigeon-toed, the shy one. And look at her now. High five. Still not very sophisticated, but who cares. Still an introvert, but who cares. Still can't cook, but who cares. This small-town girl is brave, takes chances when they need to be taken, and is trying to learn.

My daughter is now a grown woman with children of her own, a confident and beautiful person. And she has taught ME much and has been my friend and confidant along the way. High five to her for never using her upbringing as an excuse for anything. High five to her for pushing through her own difficult stuff and doing what was necessary to improve her life. High five to her for following her own path and her own inner voice.

So take a look back on your own life. Were there times that you were brave, even when it was really, really hard? Have you overcome some hard things? I'll bet you have. Have you made decisions that went against anything logical or "safe" and it all turned out okay? Give your younger you a high five. Be kind to your younger you, even with the mistakes or poor decisions. Forgive yourself for things that turned out less than you expected. Keep at it. Keep going. Give your current self some grace, some allowances, some high fives. In a few years from now, you'll look back and be amazed at how brave you have been, and what things you have endured and overcome. So here's a hug and a high five. Pass it on.

Give Your Younger You a Hug

Do you ever reflect back on your life and want to give your "younger you" a big hug? Once in a while, I do.

When you look back at everything that you've overcome, everything that you've endured, everything that was once a confusing mess, everything that you felt guilt or shame about when you didn't need to, every time when you thought that you were alone, do you just want to reach out and embrace the person that you once were? Do you ever have compassion for your younger self? When you were in certain moments and thought that you were a loser, can you see now that you were doing the best that you could with what you knew? That when you knew better, you did better? Can you give yourself the grace that you deserve? Can you conjure up some self love? I sure hope so. And I've been working on it for myself.

There are a lot of things that I wish that I had figured out 30 years ago. But I can't go backward; I can only go forward and be grateful that I still have a lot of life ahead of me (hopefully!), and be grateful that I figured out some things now instead of ten years from now. Part of me wishes that I could have a do-over with certain decisions or behaviors. But I just need to use that to propel me forward instead of beating myself up with regret.

We've all gone through our share of trauma and bad experiences. It can take a lifetime for some of us to heal; others of us may never heal. And for the fortunate ones, some of us will heal sooner than later and then reach out and encourage others who are still trying to heal.

I am grateful to have healed from my dad's emotional (and occasional physical) abuse. I do still process things, but the anger and the hurt went away years ago. Once in a while, there will be a memory that might catch my heart. Perhaps it's easier to heal from that because toward the end, I saw my dad for the individual that he was. And I had compassion for him. I don't excuse how he treated his family, but I have a very small understanding of who he was. And I'm truly grateful for the healing that has taken place.

If I think back to the young girl that I was back then, and then a teenager, who feared my dad a lot of times, I want to give that girl a hug. I want to tell her that she is beautiful in spite of the words he said to her. I want to tell her that she is not the problem, that she is okay just like she is, that her dad loves her but has many issues of his own that have nothing to do with her, even though he takes it out on her. I want to tell her that she will have an absolutely wonderful life, and that she will be happy, and that she will be a trusted friend to many, that she will help others feel like they are not alone.

I'm grateful to have healed from certain mean teachers from my high school, who seemed to take pleasure in embarrassing me and others, in belittling me and others, and in ensuring that some of us remembered "our place" in the pecking order of a small town and small school. I'm grateful to have healed from any mean schoolmates, who I can't even remember anymore. I hope that the few that I wasn't kind to during my school years have healed from the unkindness that I was a part of.

If I think back to that teen-aged girl, the one who never got asked to prom or homecoming even though she was the prom queen and the homecoming queen, I would tell her to be confident, to let her inner light shine, to be kind to everyone even if it's not the popular thing to do. I would tell her that she would make a lot more money than any of those mean teachers from high school. Hee hee. :-)  I would tell her that she would have many adventures that would take her away from that small town, but that she would eventually return to visit and enjoy those visits. I would tell her not to fret about certain things, about whether certain boys liked her because the world was big and the selection in her hometown was small. I would tell her that she was smart enough to do anything that she wanted to. I would tell her that an education was important, and it is okay to be one of the smart kids. But most of all I would tell her that it's most important to be a good friend to everyone but also to protect her boundaries.

If I could tell my college self anything, it would be....just be careful. Have fun, but watch your surroundings. Enjoy your friends, and thank heaven I did enjoy them. I would tell her don't get engaged yet...you have so much more of the world to explore first. I would tell her...you are so brave to break off the engagement even though it hurts. You did the right thing. I would tell her to continue college instead of taking that dead-end job after only two years of college. I would tell her not to settle. Don't settle. You are smart. You can do this. Be brave.

Those two years of college were some of the best times of my life. I made some mistakes (such as not continuing college and thinking that I had reached success because I was an assistant manager at a pizza place), but thank heaven you can recover from your mistakes. It might take a while, but you can do it. Here's a big hug because you're doing great.

Thinking back to my pregnant, single self. Here are a few, great big hugs! Seriously, here's a high five, too! This was the 80s. Just think about it. You held down a full-time job while being sick as a dog, preparing for a baby on your own, and dealing with a roommate who had just suffered a huge loss in her life, who you would rescue from late-night drinking binges that she used to escape her reality of losing her fiance so suddenly and tragically. The fear and stress in both of your lives were very real, but you handled it. You were poor, but you handled it. If I could say anything to my pregnant, younger self, it would be...you are amazing for choosing to raise your baby on your own. In spite of pressures from society and religion, in spite of judgment from others, in spite of the difficulties that you weren't prepared for, you are brave. You are doing this. Here's a hug, not because I feel sorry for you, but looking back, I admire you so much. Really, I do.

Looking back to my young mom years...oh, how that young mom needs a hug! Working full time and leaving her beautiful girl in day care every single day. Somehow making it work; sometimes not. Getting food from the food bank. It's okay. You'll be okay. Living in subsidized housing with neighbors having big problems next door, and their baby dying while they were having a party. It's okay. Just keep doing your best, and you will be okay. Trying to get food stamps but failing. Thanking heaven that an anonymous person left several bags of groceries on your doorstep. Taking the baby to the laundromat at night by yourself. Warming up the baby bottles on the stove. Wondering how it will all work out. Feeling so terribly alone. No family nearby. Just us two. Breathe. Enjoy your baby girl because she will grow up so fast you won't know what happened.

Telling my young mom self that she's doing great. You are digging yourself out of this thing called poverty. You got a different job. You have a few close friends. You finally moved out of that housing project and in to a real apartment. You can see beautiful sunsets out your back door, and you will enjoy those sunsets for the rest of your life. You will have a few dates here and there, but your priority is always your daughter. It's okay that way. It works for you that way. Some of your friends marry, and you feel left behind, but here is a big hug because you are beautiful and you are doing what you can to improve your situation and give a good life to your girl. Here's an extra big hug because I know how very hard it can be to be doing all of this on your own. You are still doing great.

You finally have a chance to rent a small house just two doors down from the family that has become so important in your life. The family that cares for your daughter, and the family that you will love for the rest of your life. You finally can buy a different car that is actually reliable and not embarrassing to drive. You are so fortunate to have wonderful landlords that live next door and who are kind to you. You have wonderful neighbors. Look at you, doing even better in your job. I would tell that young mom again to remember how wonderful she is, look at her volunteering to coach her daughter's T-ball and coach pitch teams, taking her daughter to various dance and gymnastic classes and doing fun things like camping with our friends. Inside, though, I know what she is feeling. She is still feeling inadequate. She still feels the guilt and shame for having a baby out of wedlock. She still feels as if no man will ever want to marry her, and that is such a helpless feeling. She feels extreme stress, knowing that she is having to do all of this alone for the foreseeable future. So here's another big hug because you know what? Eventually, you will not have these feelings of inadequacy. Eventually, you will finally know that you are enough just the way you are. Eventually, you'll know that you do not need to feel any guilt or any shame for anything. Not anything, do you hear me? You hold your head up and keep doing the very best that you can.

It takes until I'm almost 51 years old before I heal from religious trauma. I'm grateful for that healing. The only place in my adult life where I felt inadequate, never enough, less-than, second-class, shame, and guilt was in my religion. The only place where I felt unworthy was in my religion. So here's a huge hug for my former Mormon self, for the person that tried her hardest for 50 years to be worthy, to be good enough, to get to an afterlife where all my dreams would come true, where God would sort everything out. And I say to my former Mormon self that you did the best that you could with what you knew. And now that you know better, you are doing better. You are enough. You always have been. You have nothing to be ashamed about. Your spiritual self is amazing. You have helped others know that they are not alone. Here's a big hug because you endured it and you came out the other side, and you have managed to keep your friendships and nurture other friendships that you never had time for previously. You have discovered a big, wonderful, colorful world that you didn't know existed. And you are living your life the best way that you know how. Good for you, and here's a hug.


So here I am: 51-year-old me. Yes, 51! I've learned so much and still have much more to learn. I've learned a lot more about setting boundaries and protecting them. I've learned more about empathy and trying to understand where other people are coming from. I've learned that other people's perspectives are valid, even if I don't understand completely.

But I want to tell my current self this: Take care of your health, take care of your soul, do what makes you happy, help others, do what brings you peace, enjoy the journey, enjoy those grandchildren, enjoy your daughter and son-in-law, don't stress out, don't fret, breathe, breathe, breathe. I can't believe you got that black belt at your age! You did great! Spend time with your friends. Nurture your relationships. Just "be." Keep learning. Keep sharing. Reach out and let others know that they're not alone. Go on hikes. Start checking off that bucket list. Do it now while you still can. Live your life. And here's a hug because the next half of your life is going to be difficult at times but also the best part of your life. Here's a hug just because.

Sometimes my heart breaks for my younger me. But honestly, I'm so damn proud of my younger me for all that my younger self went through to get me to this place

Now go give your younger you a hug. Give yourself some credit. Give yourself some compassion and grace. You are enough. You always have been.