JoeyJoelle

TW: Mentions of self-harm

Everybody talks about becoming the highest self, becoming the best version of you, becoming her, embodying the divine… whatever you want to call it. Different names. Different target groups. Same direction: personal growth, self-concept work, manifestation, leveling up.

During one of my most recent meditations, I intended to envision my best life. Envisioning my best life usually uplifts my frequency and gives me the boost I need to get up and get going.

This time, however, I saw part of my vision and then… I saw my teenage self.

My teenage self was PEAK teenager.

I’m still apologizing for all the things I did and said to my mom, because whew… I was something. But one thing for sure: I was exactly who I had to be. Determined. Outspoken. Confident in my abilities.

When I was in high school, at the end of every schoolyear they would tell my mom I wouldn’t make it. And every year, I had to reassure her that I’d be fine. And I was always right.

Even graduation year, I had missed my French exam. Thought it was another day. That meant an automatic 1 (that’s like an F for those with another grading system), which dropped my average and technically I wouldn’t have been able to graduate — unless I passed my redo.

My mom was stressed. Again.

Me? Not so much.

It was French. I knew I’d nail it. And she did.

She got to graduate like she said she would.

For my law of assumption people: this is a perfect example of self-concept and belief shaping reality. Teenage me didn’t hope. She expected. She assumed.

Anyway.

Back then, I had a very clear vision of what I wanted to do and who I wanted to become. Until I allowed others to play with my vision. And it saddens me not to fully remember what caused it to get clouded.

I do remember feeling disheartened when people told me I would end up alone because I was “hostile” to men. Read: I set clear boundaries and knew my worth.

I remember being called disrespectful when I questioned authority. When I stood up for myself. When authority figures didn’t have answers to my questions.

And then there was the borderline diagnosis. That one hit deep. It made me believe I was unlovable. Crazy. Too much. And when your self-concept gets clouded like that, you start tolerating things you never would have before. You put up with abuse longer than you should have. Because you no longer trust your own judgment.

But my teenage self?

She didn’t care if people believed in her dreams. She wanted it and went for it. She would find a way to get what she wanted. And honestly, she usually did.

Teenage me was a master manifestor before I even knew what manifestation was.

Going back to that meditation, I might not have seen “the goal.” But what if the goal isn’t the final achievement? What if the goal is who we become in the process of pursuing the final achievement? The skills we develop. The traits we reclaim. The identity we rebuild.

And I can’t help but think that who I am meant to become on this journey to achieving my goals… is my teenage self. Minus the self-harm and the insane PMS.

One of the songs this reminds me of is Find Your Way Back by Beyoncé.

“Find your way back.
Don’t let this world drive you crazy.”

Because honestly? A lot of us lost sight of who we were before the world told us who to be. We had dreams. Aspirations. Grand visions. Creative fire. Boundaries. Audacity.

And then the world said no.

And slowly, we adjusted.

We dimmed.

We questioned ourselves.

And when you lose sight of who you are, you become more susceptible to everyone else’s opinions about who you should be.

But now, we know better.

We can do better.

We can find our way back to our highest self — not by becoming someone new, but by remembering who we were before fear, stigma, and conditioning took over.

It is not too late.

Last time I checked, we plan on growing old.

And growing older with regret because we let the world rewrite us? That’s not the story.

This is about reclaiming your self-concept. Rebuilding your belief in your own vision. Returning to the bold, audacious, boundary-setting version of you that never needed permission.

Sometimes becoming “your highest self” is really about finding your way back.