Every now and then, when the house is quiet and the chaos has settled for the night, I catch myself wondering about her, the 25-year-old version of me.
I picture her clearly: young, ambitious, energized.
She had plans. She had this list of goals, dreams, big ideas about what life would look like.
She imagined love, maybe marriage, definitely kids at some point.
She wanted to build something of her own, a business, a legacy.
She had all these versions of herself mapped out, certain she could balance it all and still somehow stay… herself.
And now, here I am.
Married.
A mom.
Running my own business.
From the outside, it looks like I checked every box she dreamed about.
So why does it feel like somewhere along the way, I left her behind?
The Life She Wanted—And More
Don’t get me wrong.
I think 25-year-old me would be proud of some of it.
She’d love seeing the family, the partner, the baby giggles in the morning, the hustle that actually turned into something real.
She wanted stability, and she got it.
She wanted love, and it’s here.
She wanted to create something meaningful, and I’ve done that.
But I also think…
She’d pause.
She’d squint a little at the tired eyes in the mirror.
She’d wonder when life became all about keeping up instead of chasing joy.
Did I Forget Myself Somewhere?
Because while I gained the things she dreamed about.
I also somehow traded pieces of myself to keep it all afloat.
The carefree spontaneity.
The hobbies that weren’t “productive.”
The version of me that wasn’t always running lists in her head, worrying about who needs what next.
She’d probably ask, “Why did you stop doing things just for you?”
She’d want to know why date nights turned into budget meetings, why weekends feel like catch-up days instead of adventures.
And honestly?
I don’t know what I’d tell her.
Can I Get Her Back?
Maybe the truth is, life moves fast.
Faster than I expected at 25.
You blink, and suddenly, you’re responsible for so much more than yourself.
But that doesn’t mean she has to be gone forever.
Maybe I can’t rewind to who I was back then.
But maybe I can carve out space for her.
Make room for the things she loved, the energy she carried, the pieces of her I miss.
Maybe it’s not too late to bring her back.
I Wonder…
If you stopped and thought about it.
What would your younger self say if she saw you now?
Would she be proud of how far you’ve come?
Would she recognize you?
Or would she gently remind you of the things you used to dream about before life got so heavy?
Because tonight, I’m thinking… maybe it’s time I let her have a say again.