Lately, I’ve been feeling a deep nostalgia for my younger self.
Since I lost my mum, I seem to have also lost my baby pictures. I think I know where they are, somewhere in my her room, in one of the bookshelves, but whenever my brothers have checked, they can’t find them. I haven’t been home in a while, so I can’t check myself. So I only have a few pictures of myself from my childhood. My favorite is one when I was graduating from primary school at 9 years old, and I look at it a lot now. I do this because I want to remember exactly how I looked, what I wore, and how I was. I want to remember who I was so I can remember who I am. So that I can be a better ‘adult’.
You see, when you think about a memory, you’re often recreating it from your point of view, from your vantage point looking into the scene. You remember how the people around you looked, their facial expressions, what they said, and what you were doing.
For example, your memory of your annual school play, you can still picture the day, even though some of it might be fading. You remember the stage, remember what your mum wore, you remember the part you played, and your costume. You remember running around or posing for pictures with your friends. But do you remember just how small, innocent, and wide-eyed you were?
From your vantage point of driving down memory lane, you remember having a very full internal life. You had thoughts and motivations for how you acted and interpretations of other people’s actions. But do you remember just how tiny and how short you were?
We used to be such babies!
Do you realize you used to look like the toddlers you see running around right now? The ones in the park that trip over themselves and wobble like drunk adults, that used to be you.
I realized that when I go down memory lane, I don’t often stop to think about myself as I existed in that memory. But the fact is, I am in the memory too, not standing apart like a spectator.
So lately, when I replay my favorite memories, I make a point to try to remember myself in the scene, remembering not just how other people looked but how I looked.
For example, I have a core memory of the first time I went on a school tour of my boarding school at just 8 years old. I felt like such a big girl about to venture off into boarding school. But my goodness, I was so small!
I did a body scan of 8-year-old Jiji (like they tell you to do in mediation or yoga), I tried to remember my hands — they were so tiny, like sticks, my face — so young and friendly with a permanent smirky trouble maker smile, my height — I was as tall as the dining table. That Jiji was such a firecracker, a fake crier when she didn’t get her way, and the baby of the house (I am the last girl with 4 older brothers). She was so full of hope and possibilities, she had an abundance mindset, she loved a challenge, she loved Cartoon Network, and she was always jumping up and down like a cricket with something to say. Her KG-3 report card said, “She talks too much”.
After I did the scan, my heart broke. My heart melted. Melted for little Jiji. I immediately felt protective of her, I felt compassion, I felt proud, and I wanted to be her again. Most importantly, I felt a sense of duty to protect her from the world and from my adult self. My self-critical, overly cynical, over-thinking, over-logical adult self.
If you are struggling to be kind to yourself, then try being kind to your younger self
Because the younger you had all she/he needed to conquer the world. You still do, but now you also have fear, and logic, other people’s opinions, and criticism from loved-ones and hated-ones, and maybe some student loans. And those things have gotten in the way and blurred your vision, swapped out your rose-colored glasses for shit-colored ones.
But little you is still there; they never left, and this whole time you’ve been quite unkind to them.
How dare you be mean to an 8-year-old? Are you a monster? No? Then be kind to your inner child because they deserve all your love and compassion. The 8-year-old you would never say such terrible things to an adult you. They would think you are so cool. Don’t sell yourself short.
Inner Child Exercise
Your exercise for today is to go look at your baby pictures. Preferably one when you were between the ages of 8 and 12. Look closely at the picture, study your face, look at your limbs, zoom into your eyes, escape back in time for a moment, and remember yourself as a child. I guarantee you, you will find it very, very difficult not to be unkind to them. They are you, and you are them, and you have come so far. Give yourself a hug.
I dare you not to have compassion for yourself after watching the video below:
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When I started writing this newsletter this morning, I didn’t plan for it to have a Mother’s Day angle. As I finished the first draft, I realized it was fitting for Mother’s Day, no small part of the fact that I started it by talking about my mum. Today is always a hard day for me, so I try to avoid Mother’s Day triggers (I delete all social media for the weekend, etc.). But our subconscious wins every time, doesn’t it? Happy Mother’s Day to all who celebrate. 💗
See you next week!
With Love,
Jiji Love
This article was originally published on my Substack— Wandering, Not Lost.
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