Reflective essay
The Person We Used to Be
As children, we looked ahead to adulthood with a kind of innocent expectation. We imagined it based on what we saw around us: a career, a family, a home; a life with a single direction. But over time we accumulate experiences and, almost without realizing it, we settle into roles sustained by routines and obligations. Along the way, the sharp edges of those early illusions, the very ones that once made us live with such intensity, begin to blur. Eventually, we reach that moment, as uncertain as it is undeniable, when we are able to realize that something inside us has changed.
Growing older is a strange and subtle friction. It has nothing to do with the chronological age we have been told about, but is rather part of a purely intimate sensation. One day, without quite understanding how or why, we begin to notice that physical energy decreases. We no longer feel motivated by the same things as before; now we often act out of our own responsibility. The internal image we had maintained over the years no longer matches reality, and yet, we continue to live under an incredulous sensation of constant continuity. We recognize ourselves in our habits, in our gestures, and in the way we love and relate to each other.
Nostalgia. A bittersweet word that provokes deep and conflicting internal emotions about our past memory, blending affection with longing. Often, as we make this internal change evident, this feeling arises, so strange and yet so habitual, which in some cases lingers for years. A kind of chronic nostalgia is then created, closely linked to grieving for the person we used to be.
Leaving this permanent state of grief is part of a constant learning process to understand and counter the real meaning of the word aging.
Because growing older is not a story of decline or illness, but a neurobiological evolution where we reach the peak of mental clarity, security, and strength. Now we are able to recognize our limits just as clearly as our virtues. We have lost the need for constant approval from others and we accept that not all relationships deserve our space, that not all obligations are good for us, and that the body is not a machine built to answer endless demands. As the days pass, we learn not to reduce the person we once were to mere physical changes. Because, after all, she is part of our history, of our memories, and of the person we have become.
“Maturity is part of an intense inner process that allows you to love the person you will never be again.”