Photo courtesy of Law & Co
When I was younger I was pretty cocky. I was quiet and sensitive as a child but as a teenager I had mastered the art of conversation and a defiant determination. Nothing seemed too out of reach and I spent many, many hours confidently chasing my dreams and living in a constant state of expectation. Something good was going to happen; any minute! The answer to my – career, wardrobe or husband – dreams was just around the corner! Like so many of us, I got more jaded as I got older and realised the trajectory of life was not necessarily the smooth path I imagined. I got tired of setbacks and thus entered in feelings of despondency in the waiting.
This is why, when people do those letters to their younger selves, I talk about doing the opposite. It’s great to tell teen you something you learned in hindsight, but how helpful is that really? The teenage version of you isn’t facing these new trials and difficulties; you are. I wrote in my book that in my humble opinion it is much more helpful, if we’re going to do a Back to the Future style letter writing exercise, to do it the other way around. Remember those dreams and plans you had when you were younger? What would that version of you say about where you are now? What encouragement could you remind yourself with and can you use those memories to harness that enthusiasm of youth?
This is something I’ve been pondering on recently as I’ve found myself almost frozen when I’ve taken myself back to some of those hopes and dreams, now, as an adult. In the last few weeks I’ve been listening to some inspiring podcasts and met some incredible people doing incredible things. People with resources wildly out of my imagination and business growth that belies the industry comparisons. Basically; pretty f***ing impressive people. And where once this might have made me feel excited about what’s possible because surely if they can do it, I can do it too! Right? (says mini me) Wrong (says adult me).
There’s a well-known trick for people engaged in public speaking to push away nerves and that is to imagine the audience is completely naked. I’ve done a bit of public speaking and I can’t say I’ve ever remembered to try that but I do concur with the sentiment. It’s very easy to be intimated by pomp and prosperity but dare I suggest that wealth and power don’t matter as much as we think they do. Sometimes when I read news stories about the horrendous things human beings are capable of, I try and imagine them as babies. Once fully innocent and free of guilt. We’re all the same then; it’s the trappings – things or experiences - of life that teach us that some of us are more important (or murderous) than others.
I realise I’ve seamlessly compared criminals with wealth so I just want to add I’m not saying they’re (always) the same. But consider this: there’s a way we treat people who are on a higher pay grade than us, in a higher position, drive more expensive cars or have more followers on social media. And maybe that’s not justified. We all eat and poop after all, and, if anything, the latter is such a base bodily function it should be the fastest leveller if you need to regain confidence in an emergency situation. I grew up in a Nigerian household so this isn’t about having a lack of respect, but seeing people as just people is something we’re (often, usually) much better equipped to do when we’re younger. And taking the perspective of your younger self could just be the thing that propels you past intimidation into the life you might still long for.
Tola x
Like you, I prefer imaging people as babies to take away the imitation I may feel. Never tried the ‘imagine them naked’ thing as me throwing up on stage is not a good look ;)