At first, I’d probably want to warn myself about things. Avoid this mistake. Don’t trust that person. Take that opportunity. Save more money. Worry less. Maybe even give myself a few winning lottery numbers.
But the older I get, the more I think I’d say something much simpler: “Relax. You’re going to be okay.”
I’d tell my younger self that not everything needs to be figured out right now. That some of the things keeping me awake at night won’t even matter a few years from now. And some of the things I think are the end of the world will eventually become stories I laugh about.
I’d tell myself to stop worrying so much about what other people think.
There will always be someone who doesn’t like you. Someone who misunderstands you. Someone who thinks you should be doing something different with your life. That’s okay. You don’t have to spend your entire life trying to convince everyone that you’re worth knowing.
I’d tell myself to appreciate the people who are there.
Call your parents. Spend more time with your friends. Take the pictures, even when you don’t feel like being in them. Stay up late talking about absolutely nothing. Take the trip. Sit around the table a little longer. Because one day, you’ll realize those ordinary moments weren’t ordinary at all.
They were the good things.
I’d also tell myself that failure isn’t something to be embarrassed about.
You’re going to screw things up. You’re going to make bad decisions. You’re going to trust people you shouldn’t and sometimes disappoint people who trusted you. You’re going to take a few wrong turns.
Keep going anyway.
Life isn’t a straight line. It’s more like driving down a back road with no GPS. Sometimes you know exactly where you’re going. Sometimes you have absolutely no idea. And every now and then, you end up somewhere you never planned to be—and discover you actually like it there.
And finally, I’d tell myself something I wish we all understood a little earlier: You don’t get to keep time.
Money can be made again. Cars can be replaced. Houses can be remodeled. Careers can change. But yesterday doesn’t have a return policy.
So stop waiting for the perfect moment.
The perfect moment is usually just the moment you’re standing in.
If I really had that time machine, I might be tempted to change some things. But maybe I wouldn’t.
Maybe every mistake, every heartbreak, every bad decision and every unexpected turn helped create the person standing here today.
So instead of trying to rewrite my past, I’d simply send one message back through time:
“Enjoy the ride. You’re going to lose some things. You’re going to find some things. You’re going to laugh, cry, screw up, fall in love, get back up and become someone you never expected to be. Don’t spend so much time worrying about the destination that you forget to enjoy the road.”