Giving My Past Self Grace: Why Every Version of Me Was Exactly Who I Needed to Be

There are moments I look back and cringe.
At the awkward phrasing in an old blog.
At the clunky website designs I once proudly sent to clients.
At the way I stayed confronted my best friend when she went back into an abusive relationship.
At how I didn’t know what to say when a friend stopped eating lunch in high school.

For a long time, I carried guilt for those versions of me. The version who meant well but didn’t have the tools. The version who showed up with heart but not yet with clarity. I used to wish I could go back and do it all better—say the right thing, ask the right question, design something more beautiful, be more aware. But I’ve come to realize something that changed everything for me:

Each version of me was exactly who I needed to be at the time.
And honestly? Who others needed me to be, too.

When I first started out as a web designer, I poured hours into layouts that now make me wince. Fonts that don’t match, colors I’d never choose today, outdated styles that feel light-years away from what I could do now. But those were the sites my clients needed. Those designs helped their businesses grow. And they helped me grow, too. They were stepping stones. Lessons. Proof that I was willing to start where I was and move forward.

The same goes for the heavier moments I used to carry shame around.

When I was a teenager, I didn’t know what domestic abuse looked like behind closed doors. I didn’t understand the signs of disordered eating or how deep that pain ran. I was doing my best with what I had. And of course I didn’t know how to respond—I was still just trying to figure out myself.

But those moments stayed with me. They planted seeds. They pushed me to ask bigger questions. They cracked something open in me that, years later, would become a calling to study trauma and mental health. Those experiences shaped my decision to pursue a counseling degree. Not because I handled them perfectly, but because I didn’t. Because I couldn’t. And I want to be someone who can.

That desire didn’t come from flawless wisdom or tidy experiences—it came from the raw and imperfect parts. The younger version of me didn’t know what she was building. But she was building something.

Now, when I feel that old shame creep in—the guilt for not knowing better, the embarrassment over a cringey design or a moment I mishandled—I remind myself: everything happens in time.

Growth isn’t about being perfect from the start. It’s about showing up. Trying. Falling short sometimes. Learning. Evolving. Pivoting. And always, always offering grace to the version of yourself who was doing the best they could.

So today, I honor every past version of me. The designer who made beginner choices. The friend who didn’t have the words. The girl who was still learning how to navigate her own emotions. They were all necessary. They were all part of the path.

And if you’re looking back at your own story and cringing, take a breath. You’ve grown because of those moments, not in spite of them. You get to offer that younger self grace. You get to say, thank you for getting me here.

Reflective Journal Prompt:
Think back to a version of yourself you often judge or cringe at—maybe it’s something you said, didn’t say, designed, avoided, or simply didn’t know how to handle.

• What was that version of you going through at the time?
• What resources, tools, or support did you not yet have?
• Why were you EXACTLY where you were supposed to be at that time?
• What did that version of you teach you that helps you show up differently today?
• If you could write them a short note of compassion, what would you say?
  

Let yourself write freely, without trying to fix or edit – witness that younger self with curiosity and care.

Read more reflections like this one on my blog.