Who were you when you were young?

If you’ve ever wondered about your life purpose, you’ve probably been advised to think about what came to you naturally as a kid.

When we’re young, if we have an impulse to paint a picture or play an instrument or ride a bike, we don’t run it through a filter of what other people will think or how much money we could make doing it. We just do it.

As we age, we “just do” less and less.

Following intuition feels scary.
Making changes feels rife with trade offs.
Taking risks feels threatening.
Running experiments feels exposed.
Asking questions feels vulnerable.

And so, we fall in line. We stay the course. We plod along.

Until we can’t anymore.

At which point, we go looking for life purpose and get the advice to reflect on our youth.

Who were you before fear and judgement clouded your view?

If you can answer that question, great—I highly recommend spending some time with it.

If you’re like me and unable to access many memories from childhood, here’s another idea:

Connect with someone who knew you when you were young.

It’s okay to phone a friend

I recently spent time with a friend from high school who I hadn’t seen or spoken to in over 20 years. She offhandedly made a comment about how I was “always such a good writer.”

This kind of blew my mind.

Not because it was a generous thing to say—although it was—but because it totally dismantled a limiting story I’ve been carrying around for decades.

For most of my adult life, I’ve supported myself in some capacity through writing. Yet the entire time, I’ve been running a story that I “just fell into writing” at 23, when a temp agency placed me on the editorial team of a magazine.

When my friend shared her observation, it made me wonder, what if there are no coincidences and we don’t “just fall” into anything?

What if, by seeing life as happening for us rather than to us, we could not only regain access to buried memories but also create new possibilities that transcend our early-life experiences?

One way life happens for us is by putting certain people in our path. They are portals to experiences and perspectives we can’t access on our own.

I have no memory of being a good writer as a kid. My friend holding the memory for me is giving me the opportunity to rewrite some scripts that have held me back and disconnected me from my true self.

If mining your youth for signs of your essence hasn’t revealed what you’re looking for, try asking a trusted childhood friend or family member how they remember you. This act of vulnerability might unlock something new.

You don’t have to walk the path of self-discovery alone.