sat with my feelings last night which led me to sleep anxious and wake up anxious so I decided to journal today to let it all out. but my writing was not as fast as my thoughts so i just typed everything out. so this is my first time posting something I journaled so enjoy a very raw and rough blog post
i have been missing who i was, more specifically: the 2023 harsimran from january to may. she was so content with herself, her own company, and did things that i don’t see myself doing anymore. she would drive 30 mins to a lake just to watch the sunset, walk twice a day (even in the pouring rain), go to sleep by 9pm everyday. she lived a very simple and mundane life but she was at peace even though she lived the same day over and over again. she was grounded.
don’t get me wrong – i love who i am right now. this version is spontaneous, happy, magnetic, and light. but this version doesn’t have a routine anymore – every day is different and nothing is still anymore. but that’s evidently okay – life isn’t always going to me stagnant. if anything it makes me appreciate the slow days more.
but how are we suppose to love all versions of ourselves when we miss some versions more than others? i’ve truly never felt more fulfilled than i feel now but i mourn the past versions of myself because we may never meet again, so how do i honor them and keep them close to me
how do i move on to become a ‘better’ version of myself, when i see my old self in the mirror? being 23 is weird. i feel grown but i don’t want to. the closer i look, the closer i see everything more clearly. i see the annoying 14 year old snapchatting every single moment of her life, the 16 year old who tried to hold a cold front but was sensitive to everything, the 20 year old who surprised herself the most, the 22 year old who felt happiest when she was in bed by 8pm, and to the 23 year old writing this.
i miss some versions of myself more than others and always wonder where i’d be in life if i stayed the same. if i didn’t pick up that journal, if i didn’t show up for myself, if i didn’t open up, if i didn’t put in the effort to get to know myself. but we’re suppose to change. we’re suppose to shift, and we’re suppose to trust the path we’re in. i like to think of myself as those russian dolls (the set of wooden dolls that decrease in size and are placed one inside another.) each doll represents a version of myself, and the more i grow, the more i evolve. as if each version of myself is residing within the next.
although i’ve evolved mentally, physically, and spiritually – i still have every version of myself living inside of me. i’m 23 but i’m still that 8 year old who loves playing outside no matter the weather. the 14 year old who loves to document everything, and i’m certainly the 20 year old who started writing newsletters – because here i am. currently writing this outside in the rain (my 8 year old self), documenting my life on my simplicity’s instagram page (my 14 year old self), and writing this piece for my new blog post (my 20 year old self). the versions i become in the future will also represent its own wooden doll, fitting inside the past versions of myself. each doll represents each version of myself.
in a way – there is no final version of ourselves. we continue to evolve, in every lifetime. i used to think that i know exactly who i am and who i want to be – but maybe that isn’t the case. and maybe that’s completely okay. but what i do know is that every living soul in the universe has an aura and that they get to decide how bright they want to glow. our souls are a representation, a constellation of our growth and spirit – each star unique to our journey and energy. my soul is a sanctuary for my mind and spirit – and i sure as hell will make it a safe space to live in <33
MySimplicity 