Who I Am Hates Who I've Been And My Weekly Existential Crisis
Have you ever been going about your day when suddenly a song that was an important part of your childhood but haven’t heard in years suddenly pops back into your life? And not only does it pop back into your life but the lyrics become even more relatable and suddenly you are thrust into an existential crisis rethinking your whole life choices? Only me? (To be fair, I have an existential crisis at least ONCE a week).
Well, this week I was happily and mindlessly scrolling through tik tok when suddenly one of the accounts I followed was lip singing to the chorus of Relient K’s, “Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been.” I haven’t heard that song in YEARS and yet listening to the song initially transported me back to my 15-year-old self who loved Relient K’s Mmhmm album.
But as I listened to the lyrics, the song impacted me in a different way. Listen, I have no doubt that 15-year-old me, struggling to stay afloat in the midst of hormones, untreated mental illness, and high school pressures, related to the lyrics in her own way. But at 31, listening to the song hits different.
I'm sorry for the person I became
I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change
I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again
'Cause who I am hates who I've been
Who I am hates who I've been
At 15, it still felt like I had my whole future waiting for me. I had major hopes and dreams for my future and well…so did everyone else. Pastors, teachers, family told me I was going to do something great with my life.
I had so much potential-especially academically. And yes, I was a bit of a jerk and could be self-absorbed, but what 15-year-old isn’t? The point is that while I certainly struggled with self-loathing and with regret over how I treated other people, there was still kind of this idea that, “ok, I’m 15 years old. I have time to figure out who I am. I have time to become the successful and great person that my friends, family, and teachers believe I can be.”
But at 31 years old…it’s hard not to look back at my life and see nothing but a bunch of broken promises, costly dead ends, and potential squandered. Yes, yes, I know 31 years old is not really THAT old. Only some teenagers and young adults view 31 as ancient. I know that my life isn’t over at 31 or 41 or 51 etc. My life is only ever over whenever I take my last breath.
And yet, when I talk to people who are in their teens and 20s who are navigating life, I can’t help but feel both a mixture of excitement and regret. I feel excitement for them as they tell me their dreams and their life plans and the steps that they are taking to get there. But I also feel regret on my end. I can’t help but feel as if I wasted my 20s in academia pursuing a career that quite frankly, was in my case, a pipe dream.
I can’t help but think about how untreated mental illness made things so much more difficult for me and those who care about me. I feel like one’s teens and 20s are hard for everyone, but when you have a history of trauma and an untreated mental illness, your 20s becomes just about surviving to see another day. I look back at my 20s and see all the potential wasted and dreams dashed because I didn’t know how to get the help I so desperately needed.
I am grateful that I am doing so much better now and have received the treatment I need to remain healthy. But I can’t help but wonder how different my life would have been if I had access to treatment at 18, 20, 22, or even 25. How much anguish would I have saved myself and others? Would I have been less fearful of leaving academia and left at 22 instead of being forced out at 30? I probably would have been settled into another career by now.
How many friendships and relationships could have been saved had I been able to be the person I am today…but years ago?
It’s hard for 31-year-old me to not look back at 15, 18, 22, 25, year old me and not hate who I was. So hearing Relient K’s, “Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been” feels like a slap in the face. Because I’m not particularly proud of the person I was in my 20s.
And so far, my 30s feels like one long apology directed at myself and my loved ones for the person I was. The person who burned bridges because that’s the only way she knew how to walk away without it hurting to much. The person who was just so hurt and angry that she couldn’t see beyond her own despair. I am no longer that person, but the chaos she sewed in my 20s still has consequences today.
And let me be honest, I still feel the need to apologize for the person I still am. Because I am a work in progress. I am so much healthier now than I was even just a year or two ago. But I am still figuring out who I am. I am still trying to figure out a career path. I still feel like I need to constantly apologize for not living up to my potential. I am still the person that would rather run away and start over in a new place every few years than stay in one place.
And yet, as much as I hate the person I was, and some aspects of the person I currently am, I also know that I was doing the best I could to survive based on the skills, support, and knowledge I had at the time. 18-year-old me, was doing the best she could leaving a not so good childhood behind without the skills and support that others had.
25-year-old me was doing what she thought she needed to do to get through the day. So mixed in with my hatred is some compassion. I was doing the best I could. That doesn’t excuse or minimize the pain I caused others. But it helps me to look back at younger me with some love.
And of course, I believe in a God that continuously brings forth new chances. I believe in a God that constantly encourages all of us to do and be better. This God looks at old me with love, understanding, and compassion. And well, why shouldn’t I?
Maybe, instead of hating 20 something year old me, I can thank her, for doing the best she could at the time. And instead of viewing my 30s as some sort of ending, view it as a beginning. I now have the skills and maturity to embrace my potential. I also now know that things don’t always go as planned and that’s ok. Life, for most people, isn’t a direct path from Line A to Line B. But now instead of just bumbling along on this journey, I now have the presence of mind to at least enjoy the ride.
I believe in a God that can and does take the broken parts of ourselves and helps us heal. I believe that God takes the painful and dark parts of our past, and helps us craft a story that can help others. That isn’t some trite, “God has a plan” or “it all happen for a reason” theology. But it is an acknowledgement that well, sometimes life is hard. Sometimes we mess up. But our messes aren’t the end of our story.
Now if you excuse me, my inner 15-year-old wants to listen to some more Relient K.
