I keep thinking that I'm going to grow up and get a new brain.
When I was younger, I'd look to the future and see myself doing cool things like publishing books and maybe going to space. I still do that, actually. But in all those visions, I didn't have the same brain. Like, where did it go?
Don't get me wrong; I like my brain. It's a good lil brain. I guess it's this weird thing where I can't imagine myself in the future exactly? It always feels like I'm a different person. But when I got to college, I was still the same person.
I still thought the same way.
And that's kind of a weird thing to me, but I guess it makes sense. Same brain. Same thoughts. In some ways, it's disappointing. Like whaaaaa I don't get a new brain every time I reach a new life milestone?
On a more serious note, if my brain has a habit of getting sad or scared sometimes, that's not just gonna go away all of a sudden, once I get to college. Or graduate college. But even if this is slightly disappointing, there are a few comforting things about it.
1. You're still you.
Your brain is one thing that always sticks with you. At your core, you will always be the same person. And that's good to remember, especially if you're going through a rough patch. Or when you're taking a hard exam and at least you can write down your name because you do know that.
It's helpful when you find yourself sitting there asking "who am I?" again and again.
To quote a beautiful Josh Groban song, you're still you, and nothing can ever change that. Even if you don't quite remember who you are anymore, your name hasn't changed. Deep down, you are the same beautiful you that you've always been, and life can't change that.
2. You're still growing.
Maybe you're stuck with the same brain, but that doesn't mean you can't progress.
I wrote my first story when I was starting preschool. I was probably four years old? Five? A wee little penguin. Here it is, in its full, unedited glory. Please don't ask about the random spaces. I think I was pressing the tab key instead of the space bar, and it was all very confusing for me.
In case you don't understand my genius use of phonetics, here's a translation:
"The Big Scary Bear: I was walking in the woods and I saw a big big bar, and it really really scared me. Well, what would you do if you
Umm, so what gets me every time about this one: I still remember exactly what I was thinking when I wrote this. I remember sitting down at the computer and my mom turning me loose to type. I remember being frustrated at how long it took, how I couldn't get the spaces to line up like I wanted them to. Apparently I sensed the need to emphasize things (like the size of the bear) by repeating them.
And (perhaps the most frightening thing) I remember thinking just how amazing this story was. It was so clever. It was the longest thing I'd ever written. I was extremely proud of myself.
I'm a lot older now. I've written things that are longer than this big big bear story. I don't use all CAPS for everything now. But more or less, I still think the same way. I have the same brain? Hopefully this is making sense. Also, even if I know how to actually spell words now, I can still be proud of myself back then. I don't have feel ashamed about my progress back then. And mostly:
You can improve. You have already.
You have climbed endless mountains and crossed countless rivers. Take a moment and look back, see how much you've done. Celebrate that! Because it's awesome. You and your lil brain have gone through a lot together and you're still going. Maybe this moment feels like it's moving too slowly and you'll never get past it.
But you will.
You will. And you'll still be the same, beautiful person you've always been.
Do you ever think about the fact that you still have your brain after all these years, or is it just me? Do you remember your exact thought processes from years ago? If you want to write a post about your first story ever and SHARE IT, link me to it in the comments!