I met my younger self for coffee today.
It was one of those surreal moments when time seemed to collapse into itself, and I found myself face-to-face with the person I used to be. She walked in, right on time. I had arrived five minutes early, having walked to the coffee shop. There was something calming about that extra time—it’s something I’ve learned to appreciate over the years. I used to be in such a rush, always running late, trying to juggle so many things at once. But now, I’ve learned to savor moments of stillness, something I wish I could’ve told her.
As she sat down, I noticed how she looked so much like I once did—stressed, disheveled, and a little unsure of herself. Her hair was tangled, falling into her face, and her clothes seemed uncomfortable. She fidgeted with them, adjusting, almost as if she were trying to feel at ease in her own skin. I couldn’t help but smile. The change I’ve gone through over the years was visible in her discomfort.
How I Met My Younger Self and the Choices We Made
She ordered a sugary, caffeine-loaded drink, while I opted for a decaf latte—something soothing for a quiet moment. She admitted she had stayed up late the night before, while I shared how I had risen early, taking time for myself before the day began. It struck me how small choices—like the drink we ordered or the time we woke up—told such a story of where we were in life. She was running on fumes, barely keeping up, and I had found a rhythm that suited me. The pace had changed, but so had I.
Looking at her, I noticed the discomfort she wore like a cloak. The tight skinny jeans and snug T-shirt were the style of a time when I, too, was still figuring things out. I, on the other hand, wore my go-to oversized sweatshirt and yoga leggings, comfortable and casual. My hair was tied back in a tight ponytail—practical for a day filled with work, parenting, adventure, and moments of quiet. There was no pressure to look a certain way, no pressure to be perfect. But I could see that she still carried that pressure—picking at her nails, tugging at her shirt, always adjusting.
I asked her a few questions, hoping to ease her tension. My questions weren’t aimed at giving advice; they were simply an invitation to slow down and take a breath. I could see how hard it was for her to relax.
Reflecting on the Worries of My Younger Self
The worries she shared with me were the same ones I had carried for years. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said. “I feel like I’m failing. Everything feels wrong, and I’m not sure what to do next.” She paused, looking down. “I’ve lost so much. I don’t know if I’ll ever figure it out.”
I could feel her pain in my chest, a familiar ache. I had carried those worries for so long, but I wanted so badly to tell her that it didn’t have to be this way forever. I wanted to show her that life wasn’t about having all the answers. It wasn’t about being perfect. It was about living, growing, and trusting that things would unfold in time. I had learned that along the way, but I couldn’t exactly give her that wisdom. It would come in her own time.
I told her how things had turned out. “We’re a mom to the most brilliant kid,” I said. “We have a hundred other kids to love on too. We spend our days adventuring—hiking in the woods, taking long walks with the dogs, and exploring new places. We’ve learned that the happiest moments are in the quiet, the simple moments of connection. It’s not perfect, but it’s real, and it’s ours.”
Her eyes widened. She couldn’t imagine it. She couldn’t imagine a life that felt so at peace, so aligned with who I was becoming. She asked about the man I married. “Who did you marry?” she asked, her voice full of disbelief.
I smiled. “I married the best man I know.”
It was a moment of surprise for her, the kind of surprise that comes when life gives you exactly what you need, but you never expect it to happen.
What My Younger Self Didn’t Know About Happiness
I could see that she was still caught up in the idea that happiness came from external things—success, wealth, a busy schedule, and the pursuit of more. She thought that happiness meant a big house, a busy career, and a life that looked perfect on paper. I looked at her gently and said, “Happiness isn’t about what you accumulate. It’s about the moments. It’s about the quiet mornings with a cup of coffee, the snuggles of a four-year-old, and the long afternoons spent walking the dogs. Happiness is found in the simple moments. Quality, not quantity.”
She looked down, still unsure. I could see that she believed happiness meant being perfect—perfect partner, perfect family, perfect career. But I knew that wasn’t the truth. The imperfections, the messiness of life, were what made it beautiful. Life wasn’t meant to be perfect—it was meant to be lived.
How I Realized Life Was About Imperfection
She glanced at her watch. “I should go,” she said, looking frazzled. “I’m so busy. There’s so much to do.”
I smiled softly. “It’s okay to rest. You don’t always need to be busy. It’s okay to take a break. Slow down.”
Her expression softened for a moment, as if the weight of her thoughts had momentarily lifted. She asked me, “Do you think I’ll ever figure it out?”
I smiled, knowing the answer. “Yes, you will. In time, you’ll figure it out. And you’ll learn to trust yourself more than you ever thought possible.”
At that moment, I knew she hadn’t fully believed me—but that was okay. I knew that, someday, she would look back and see how far she’d come. Maybe one day we’d meet again for coffee, and she would realize how much she had grown. Until then, I hoped she would carry the lessons from our conversation with her.
Final Thoughts About Meeting My Younger Self For Coffee
Writing this piece was incredibly therapeutic for me. As I reflected on the conversation I had with my younger self, I was reminded of how far I’ve come, how much I’ve learned, and how much growth is still ahead. It allowed me to reconnect with parts of me that I had long forgotten or pushed aside. Writing about this encounter with my younger self helped me process emotions and experiences, and reminded me to be kinder to myself in this journey of life.
Sometimes, we need to pause and reflect on our past selves to truly appreciate the present moment. It’s amazing how those small moments of reflection can bring clarity and encouragement. If you’re in need of some inspiration, check out this article on motivational quotes for motherhood—it might give you the boost you need to continue your own journey of growth and self-acceptance.
Have you ever met your younger self in your mind? What would you tell her or him today? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.