Have you ever looked over pictures of years gone by, played back a video or audio file you produced, read through some musing you wrote, and wondered, What happened to that version of me? That’s what I ventured to do, and boy, oh boy, did I find myself learning something interesting. Time has a special way of telling a story.
The younger me had something about him—something raw, unfiltered, and profoundly powerful. He made the impossible feel like a figment of imagination because he believed. I believed. I believed I could. I believed that whatever I tried, I could make something of it. But what happened? Where did that relentless spirit go?
I have no excuses except to say that life’s experiences have a way of damaging the possibilities that lie in inexperience. Some would call that naïveté immaturity, but I must say, the rawness of those moments past should be a mindset we all carry into each day. The belief that you can, even if the world has told you otherwise. The belief that the possibilities of a brighter outcome rest in how you handle the present moment. The belief that this moment should be a moment you will thank yourself for having taken on.
But how do you reclaim that version of you? The you that you loved and the world needs? It’s a journey. One that begins with four steps:
1. Get Up and Try
The younger me didn’t overthink the risks. I leaped before I looked, driven by the audacity of belief. Somewhere along the way, I started calculating too much—every setback, every possible failure. I traded the exhilaration of trying for the comfort of caution. But life isn’t meant to be lived cautiously.
So, I've decided to start again. I got up, dust off my fears, and try.
It begins with small things. Reaching out to an old friend I haven’t spoken to in years. Playing back podcast episodes I hosted and produced that had such rich conversations than my memories allow me to remember. Writing down ideas for a project I have long ago abandoned. It won’t be easy; the voice of doubt is loud.
But here’s the thing: you don’t need the voice of certainty to take action. You just need the courage to take the first step. This is me taking it.
2. Keep a Recording of Your Attempt
One of the most profound things I’ve rediscovered is the power of memory—not just as something to look back on but as a tool for progress. The younger me used to document everything: journals filled with wild dreams, poorly shot videos of impossible feats attempted, and doodles of worlds I wanted to create.
Now, I will bring that practice back.
Every morning, I will journal my intentions. Every evening, I will write what went well and what didn’t. I will record my small victories and the lessons from my failures. Not only will that give me a tangible reminder of my progress, but it will also remind me that I’m showing up for myself.
It’s amazing to look back and see how far you’ve come, even in a short time. When doubt creeps in, those recordings, like those I have recorded in the past, will remind me of the power of persistence.
3. Stay Confident in the Possibilities of “This Will Work”
When I was younger, I had an almost foolish confidence in the possibility of success. Every project, every attempt, was backed by the mantra: This will work. Sure, I didn’t always succeed, but the belief carried me forward, and forward was always better than standing still.
Somewhere along the way, that belief dimmed. I started assuming the worst, preparing for failure before I even tried. And guess what? That mindset became a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Reclaiming that confidence isn’t about ignoring reality. It is about shifting my perspective. Instead of asking, What if it doesn’t work? I have started asking, What if it does?
I am approaching each day with the mindset that something wonderful could happen. And you know what? Often, it is.
4. Remain Responsible Enough to Care for Those Around You
In the pursuit of reclaiming myself, I realized an essential truth: the younger me wasn’t just fearless. He was also deeply compassionate. He wanted to change the world, not just for himself but for others. Somewhere along the way, I got so caught up in surviving that I forgot how to nurture the connections that matter most.
So, I made a conscious effort to care.
I am listening more to the people around me. I am showing up for friends when they need me, even when it isn’t convenient. I remind myself that success isn’t a solitary journey. The world needs the best version of me—not just for me but for the people I love and the people I’ve yet to meet.
Reclaiming the You That You Love
As I’m walking this journey, I’m learning that reclaiming yourself isn’t about returning to who you were. It’s about integrating the best parts of your past self with the wisdom of your present self. It’s about rediscovering belief, recording your progress, staying confident, and caring deeply.
Today, I am still a work in progress. But I’m learning to love the process. The version of me that believed he could do anything isn’t gone; he’s just been waiting for me to find him again.
And now, when I look back on pictures of years gone by, replay videos, and read through my old musings, I no longer wonder, What happened to that version of me?
Instead, I smile, knowing he’s still here, stronger and wiser, ready to take on the world once more.
So, here’s to you. To reclaiming the version of yourself that you love and the world desperately needs. All it takes is to:
1. Get up and try.
2. Keep a recording of your attempts.
3. Stay confident in the possibilities of this will work.
4. Remain responsible enough to care for those around you.
Because the best version of you isn’t just a memory—it’s a choice you make every single day. And that, my friend, is what happened to me.
Comments