This is a question I stumbled across this week and it has not left my mind.
As an 8-year-old, I was your classic dreamer. I’d spend time in my pink room finding comfort in activities that ignited my heart. These activities spanned from dancing and singing along to Hilary Duff on my karaoke machine (#AlwaysAFan). I’d dream of a huge audience in front of me (that was actually the audience of my dad down the hall listening to me sing Hilary on repeat blasting through the speakers while he worked in his office). I’d draw pictures of whatever was in front of my face on printer paper, coloring with markers and colored pencils. I’d write and I would dream about traveling. As an 8-year-old, I went to church with my family every Sunday and played tag with the neighborhood girls a lot. I dreamed of playing guitar, too. There wasn’t a care in the world but following what was right in front of me, which were things that gave me joy and being with people, desiring to make things happen in my life and taking all the steps I knew how to get there.
What’s true today that would make eight year old Ashley cry on the floor in her room?
I could tell you a few things:
When writing became the craft that was encouraged over all the others, I put drawing-art on the back burner. I stopped. I no longer believed I was good enough at it. No one told me to stop, I just stopped because I put that limit on myself.
I stopped constantly listening to Hilary Duff. I believe it came with growing up, gaining different musical interests (which does play a factor in it)… But the truth? I was afraid to be open about my love for Hilary’s music, because in New Hampshire she didn’t seem like the bee’s knees. Truth today? I STILL love her music and yes, love a lot of other musical artists, but she will still hold number one in my heart because of the joy and positive vibes her music gives me for every day life.
What’s true about these things?
The limits I put upon myself because I was afraid of what people would think. The limits I put on myself because I felt unable to chase after my dreams — or I just had no idea how. At the end of the day, no one told me I wasn’t good enough… I told myself I wasn’t good enough before someone else could.
If I walked into 8-year-old Ashley’s room and told her about all the adventures I have had this year with Jesus and His Church and told her about all the people I’ve met and been impacted by, 8-year-old me would have stars in her eyes!
I can bet anyone a million bucks, though, that if 23-year old Ashley walked into my 8-year-old life and told her I stopped listening to Hilary, stopped drawing, stopped doing the things that are at the core of who I am — because I was afraid of what people thought — 8-year-old me would cry tears and angrily yell at older me to stop limiting myself and learn again. To do the things that give me joy and not give a care about what people think about it, because at the end of the day, the right people will stand by me no matter what I pursue or enjoy doing (if they are positive things, of course… Which all of these things are).
Do the things that give yourself joy and follow after them as if no limits were put on you, Ashley. Relearn the fabric of who you are and just do it.
Over the years, things that give me joy have morphed and changed, but I still listen to music loudly and sing along and dance to it if it’s dance-able music because that gives me joy. Hilary Duff makes my feet tap and that feeling of happy run through my bloodstream. I love drawing-art and recently picked up pastels, but the art that I have made my own today is collaging and I need to do it more often than I do — lack of magazines and glue should not be a problem when I have every capacity to go out and find them.
8-year-old me would be happy to know that two years later at 10, she got a guitar, but she would not be happy to know that I gave up because it was too difficult and I gave the excuse that my hands were too small. She wouldn’t be happy to know that our family sold that first guitar because she didn’t play it. Today? 8-year-old me would be ECSTATIC to know that 23-year-old me took a huge step and bought a beautiful guitar (for super cheap, in Guatemala of all the places!) to try again and that this time, I’m not planning to give up because music is something that gives me joy and learning to play it is something I’ve desired to do since I was that young.
8-year-old me would be angry and sad at the prospect of not being good enough, because 8-year-old me believed that she was more than the limits I eventually began putting on myself over time. If I told 8-year-old me that the dreams and things that gave her life and joy were not enough because I let what society or what I believed other people thought was “weird” or “different,” stop me, she definitely wouldn’t like it.
Being on the World Race, I have been relearning what the fabric of my 8-year-old being is and learning to live with her spirit in an older body without worrying about the looks other people give me because what 8-year-old me loved may be different or seem out of the character they are used to seeing. I still have a while to go, but buying that guitar was a huge step for me.
What’s the point? you might be asking… The point is to not lose that childlike spirit we all have – that the Lord has placed inside each of us. What were the dreams that 8-year-old you wanted? What are the things — if you hadn’t let what others thought of you get under your skin — you would be doing to get there today, even if it’s on a smaller scale? It’s not too late.
It’s never too late to choose joy and relearn what it is that makes your heart come alive.
