People often say your brain finishes developing in your mid-twenties.

I don’t know exactly what changes happen biologically, but I do know somewhere along the way, I became a different person.

Not overnight.

Not in some dramatic movie moment.

Just gradually.

One day I looked back at old versions of myself and realised I didn’t think the same way anymore.

The things I once accepted, I now questioned.

Behaviors I once tolerated, I now refused.

Choices I once made, I regretted.

The version of me in my early twenties wanted different things from life.

She cared deeply about being liked.

She worried about fitting in.

She ignored red flags, because she wanted to see the best in people.

She made decisions, I’d never make now.

At the time, I thought I was already mature. Like she had it all figured out. Now I question who I really am.

Now I realise a lot of my choices and decisions were based around fear.

Fear of disappointing others.

Fear of being alone.

Fear of choosing myself.

As I’ve gotten older, my priorities have changed.

I care less about impressing people, and more about protecting my peace.

I care less about having a lot of friends, and more about having genuine ones.

I care less about what people think about me and more about whether I can sleep at night knowing I stayed true to myself.

I’d rather a night in with the people I love the most, than a night out surrounded by people who are only around for a fun time.

Sometimes I look back and cringe at decisions I’ve made.

Not because I’m ashamed of who I was, but because I simply wouldn’t make those choices today.

My morals have evolved.

My boundaries have strengthened.

My confidence has grown.

My understanding of what I deserve has changed.

And that’s a strange feeling.

Because while you’re the same person, you’re also not.

You carry the same memories, but you see them differently.

You tell all the same stories, but with a new understanding.

You look at old versions of yourself with a mixture of gratitude, embarrassment, compassion and disbelief.

The older I get, the more I realise growth isn’t about becoming perfect.

It’s about becoming more aligned with who you really are.

It’s about questioning the beliefs you’ve inherited.

Learning lessons the hard way.

Changing your mind when new experiences teach you something different.

And allowing yourself to evolve without apologising for it.

I don’t always agree with the person I use to be.

But I understand her.

She made decisions based on what she knew at the time.

She was still figuring life out.

And honestly?

So am I.

The difference now is that I’m a little wiser, a little stronger, and a lot less willing to abandon myself just to make others comfortable.

Maybe, that’s what growing up really is.

Not becoming someone new.

But becoming more yourself, than you’ve ever been before.

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