Oh fuck.
I really, really think so. And I’m so happy to be able to say that.
Weird, this thought actually crossed my mind today, but in a slightly different form. To be honest, my 8 year old was an insecure mess who couldn’t stand up for herself for shit and literally had no friends. I like to think she’d be proud of me… someone who’s not afraid to state her beliefs, is comfortable with herself, and has a large of group of close friends. Even a best friend. Of course my math and science grades are shitty so maybe she wouldn’t like me that much.
To be honest, I don’t think 8 year old me would recognize adult me, because that version of me is a completely different human being. 8 years old? That was the calm before the storm. I imagine that 8 year old me wouldn’t know what to do with grown up me, but you know what? All I need to do to make the child in me happy is open up the file of the things I’ve written - novels, short stories, fics - and let her see how far she’s come. And yeah, I think that little brat that put pen to paper and wrote a story about a magic carrot would be pretty damned proud.
Well shit.
I honestly don’t think so.
At all.
Not at all. I never imagined myself to turn out like this—EVER.
I don’t think 8-year-old me would know me now, either. I’m literally three times her age.
That said, I think we’d still get a kick out of each other, whether or not she’d be “proud.” I’d play dress up with her. I’d watch Disney with her and sing the songs, like I did then and do now, albeit to a lesser extent. I can guarantee, though, that if I showed 8-year-old me all the cool Photoshop stuff I do, she’d go nuts. XD
And actually, I might be more proud of her. When I was 8 years old, I was transferring into a new school. I had absolutely no concept of cliques, or the idea that kids would not like me because I was overly enthusiastic about everything. “HI. I’M KATY. WHAT’S YOUR NAME? CAN WE BE FRIENDS?” That would change by the time I was 10. I was not afraid to try anything. I was bright and wanted to learn, and thought the world had endless possibilities. That is awesome, and I wouldn’t tell her to change.
It’d be interesting, to be sure. But I think I’d be gratified if my 8-year-old self LIKED my 24-year-old self. It’d mean I hadn’t lost who I was, or let the pressures of being a “grown-up” override the stuff I love. I think I’ve done a decent job so far, but kids see things differently, so…who’s to say?
If my 13-year-old self met me, though…I think she’d be proud. I’ve turned out okay so far. :)
Not sure about my 8 year old self. But my 11 year old self wanted nothing more than to make enough people laugh that they would stop trying to hurt me, so he’d probably be relieved if nothing else.
Honestly I don’t know. I’m pretty sure at that time I wanted to be really good at sports. So he may be disappointed. But then again I’m not doing so bad. So maybe he’d be a little proud. Still I doubt it. I’m a very different person.
(Source: theythinkimfine)
