Op-ed by Borka Schuster
If I could meet my 20-year-old self, she'd probably talk for hours about how her life was going to turn out. She'd know exactly what work she'd do. What kind of relationship she'd be in. What principles she'd live by. What sort of person she'd be at 40.
And I'm certain that almost none of that story would match the reality I know today.
Once, that thought would have made me sad. Now it mostly makes me feel relieved.
Because the older I get, the more I realize one thing: my 20-year-old self simply didn't have enough information to decide what would truly make me happy.
Back then, I saw it completely differently
In my early twenties, I believed my identity was being carved in stone right then and there. That this was the moment to decide who I was, what career I wanted, what kind of relationship I needed, which values I'd live by. As if every decision were a contract signed for life.
Then life proved, again and again, that thankfully it doesn't work that way.
Don't get me wrong — I do think it matters to hold on to certain things. There's something beautiful about not completely abandoning the child or the young adult we once were. About remembering the kind of person we hoped to become.
It's just that we tend to romanticize that image a little too much.
As if our 20-year-old self had been some unusually wise person who knew exactly which path was the right one.
Because if I'm being honest, at 20 I was wrong about an enormous number of things. If you're navigating that stage now, it's worth reading about how our twenties quietly reshape what we want.
My values were different. I called different things "success." I wanted to resemble different people. I cared far more about what others thought of me. I was far worse at saying no. I poured so much energy into living up to some imagined ideal.
If I insisted on staying loyal to that version of myself at all costs, I'd essentially be denying everything I've learned since.
But that's exactly what growing up is
We don't just get older — we gather new experiences. We get let down. We make mistakes. We lose people and meet new ones. Things that once seemed crucial lose their weight, and values we never even considered at 20 quietly move to the center of our lives.
I don't think it's a failure to step off the path we set out on when we were young. In fact, it's often essential for growth.
Sometimes we talk about our youthful dreams as if they were moral compasses. As if real success meant wanting the exact same things at 40 that we wanted at 20. But I'm honestly not sure that's true.
Because if nothing about a person's worldview, curiosity, or priorities changed over two decades, that would be just as strange as reinventing your entire personality every single year.
Maybe we don't work in the career we once pictured for ourselves. Maybe we don't have the family we dreamed of. Maybe our days unfold in a completely different city, among different people, at a different rhythm.
But if along the way we've become kinder, braver, more honest with ourselves, and we understand who we are a little better — then we probably didn't wander off in the wrong direction after all.
When I look back at my 20-year-old self today, I think of her with tenderness.
She tried so hard.
She just couldn't have known how much would happen to her — or how deeply all of it would rewrite what she believed about happiness.
And honestly? I'm glad not everything turned out the way she imagined.
Is it a failure if my life looks nothing like my younger self planned?
Not at all. As the article suggests, stepping off the path you set out on when you were young is often essential for growth — not a sign that you've gone wrong.
Why would I feel relieved that my old dreams didn't come true?
Because at 20 you simply don't have enough information to know what will truly make you happy. Life gives you experiences that reshape what matters, and that's a good thing.
Does this mean youthful dreams don't matter?
No. There's real beauty in remembering the person you hoped to become. The point is not to romanticize that image so heavily that you deny everything you've learned since.
How can I tell if I've changed in a good direction?
If you've grown kinder, braver, more honest with yourself, and you understand who you are a little better, you've likely moved in the right direction — even if your circumstances look nothing like you planned.
