I came across this interesting concept in a neuroplasticity course I was in, namely ~
How you were at sixteen determines in many ways how you are throughout adult life.
Obviously, it's not suggesting you'll be into the same sleazy boy band forever and ever (thank goodness), but rather that the way in which you interact with the world and the way the world presents itself to you at this age is critical for how you view your identity and your future interactions with it. Perhaps for many decades to come.
I thought, isn't that interesting? Opinions among my fellow students were mixed, with some desperately bemoaning that, saying how much they longed to escape their younger selves. Others were quite enthused, though.
It makes sense from a psychological standpoint, for sure (as well as a brain plasticity standpoint). The teacher's argument being (to an extent) that the conditions you live in, the interactions you have with your parents, peers, etc, how you do in school, a lot of them consist the groundwork for what it is to be an adult. So naturally, you'll keep referring to them. Of course, things will change, as they're bound to, but perhaps the core self, the one that's first fired into action in a new situation is still, in its way, 16.
Well, what would that look like for you? Would you be content knowing that 16-year-old you has pre-determined how you go?
For me, it was one of those odd life coincidences, as it was precisely the point I'd been debating a few nights before (and mulling over, subsequently). Well, to an extent. I think I had a rather good adolescence. Thinking back to myself at 16-17, that critical period, I rather like myself. Even now. And think I had a good head on my shoulders.
So I was thinking the other night, what would she say, 16-year-old me about where I am right now and who I am, and all I've done since we spoke last? It reminded me of @ericvancewalton's letter to 20-year-old me prompt thingy. Being 18 at the time, I instead wrote to my 50-year-old self.
We often think of these hypotheticals in terms of "oh what advice would you give your past self", but personally, I've found the more I go through life, the more I tend to waver at unfortunate times, so I was making an effort to go and see what advice she (16-year-old me) would give me.
I loved 16-year-old me. She was crazy. Fucking fearless. Very bohemian, and weird, and well, she didn't mind being weird. Sometimes I wonder how she did that. I mean I'm still weird, but I have this sense of my past self as living on a completely other plane and I sometimes envy her that.
Not 16. 18. Technology dying all around me, can't find pictures of 16. But look how happy she is. Writing I love you in the sand. With the sea. Perfectly captures the essence.
All in all, I figure she'd be quite content. Going through the big things that happened to me since we spoke last, I could only really come up with one thing I don't think she'd be too happy with. And that was unfortunately unavoidable. But all in all, she'd be pretty pleased. Because for the most part, the things I look at that seem large to me have all been either about writing and my artistic freedom or inevitably about love. And she'd love that. I had this great big hunger to experience things, big emotions, when I was 16. And I can safely say I've done and am doing that to satisfaction.
But to bring it full circle to my class - what about the world around me when I was that age?
I think I was very fucking fortunate. I was free to learn anything that took my fancy. Don't remember which phase I was in at 16. Might've still been my Shakespeare phase. (And interestingly enough, I still rephrase a lot of the things I experience in those terms. Which one of us is Falstaff and am I right in always casting myself as Hal? It's an interesting balance - the older I get, the more I see Falstaff's side of things, but still, those maps I loved and wrote into myself at 16 still mean and shape so much to and of me)
And I had a family that encouraged me and believed I was rather swell. I had love all around me. I had a sense that my days were both bullet-speed and extremely slow and leisurely around me. I had no real writing practice (that came with Hive) but I knew for sure that was what I wanted to do.
In other words, when I was 16, I lived in a world where I believed I could do anything I wanted to, achieve anything, believed in my own capacity to learn new things and expand my knowledge always. I had a love for adventure that rather than be curtailed was encouraged and so, blossomed.
So now, ten years later, I think I'm leading a life my 16-year-old self would be quite proud of, and though the world I perceive around myself has grown considerably darker, I realize the world I'm fostering within is still that space of boundless potential and adventure and love. And how fucking fortunate.
What do you think? Now, at 16, whenever.
