I turned forty at the end of July, and like most milestone birthdays, it had me thinking less about the number and more about the person behind it. I don’t feel my age, and having a 5 year old and a 1 year old definitely help because life is always moving. But it also made me wonder: what part of me has stayed the same through every season of life? 

We’ve all run into people from childhood and thought, Wow, they never changed. Or maybe, Wow, they’ve changed so much. But are they really different or have they just grown through life’s seasons? Maturity, age, and mindset can all change as we get older but I can’t help wondering if there’s a thread that’s been there all along. 

The year I turned 13, my grandpa threatened to send me home for the summer. I was extremely outspoken and unafraid to say what I thought. And I wouldn’t accept anyone’s advice, answer, or critique about anything. Determined and strong-willed are a polite way of describing who I was at that time. My top phrase to reply was, “I know” because in my little teenage mind, I knew everything. 

Many years later, my grandpa would still talk about that summer and how he nearly sent me home. Through the years, my voice has never left me, but there was a time when I thought I’d nearly lost that part of myself. Not physically, but through toxic relationships and trauma, life has a way of taking it sometimes. 

When I was 18, I had my first baby girl and then the day after I turned 21, I had my second baby girl. The relationship I had with my second daughter’s father was not healthy. At the time, I thought I knew enough about myself that I couldn’t be influenced or changed. But I was still very young. It wasn’t until I left Texas that I realized how much my sense of self had been diminished. 

I was still confident in certain things but my core had been shaken and that’s the first time I felt like my voice no longer mattered. I learned to stay quiet during that time because I never knew the backlash that would happen. When I lost custody of my girls, I stopped talking… I stopped writing… I stopped feeling… because it hurt too much. 

I can’t say there were fireworks when I realized my voice was back. It didn’t happen in a moment. It happened over years and that time was muddy. I remember moments when I felt okay and others when I didn’t. Living through that season was hard, but looking back, I can see it was part of the healing. My husband has been by my side through much of that journey, creating a home where I felt safe enough to use my voice again, and where laughter has returned. 

I began to recognize pieces of myself again. I wasn’t returning to my previous self because I don’t think that is possible. We aren’t meant to become who we once were. But I began to laugh again. My silly 13 year old self was still there. My determination to keep going was still there. And everyone’s favorite, my blunt honesty came back over time. 

These days, I don’t answer nearly as often with, “I know.” Life has a funny way of teaching us just how much we still have to learn. 

I realized I was still me. Not the same thirteen-year-old girl, but someone shaped by every season that followed. I stopped surviving and started living again.

Maybe You’re Wondering Too 

I wonder how many of us believe we’ve lost ourselves somewhere along the way. Maybe it was through heartbreak, grief, motherhood, illness, disappointment, or simply the busyness of life. We look back at the person we used to be and wonder where she went. 

Maybe she never disappeared after all. 

Turning forty didn’t make me realize how much I’d changed. It made me realize how much had quietly stayed the same. Pieces of my thirteen-year-old self are still here. The determination. The laughter. The voice. They didn’t disappear. They were simply waiting to be heard again. So if you’re wondering what part of you has stayed the same through every season of life, maybe don’t look for the loudest answer.

Sometimes it’s the quiet thread that’s been there all along.

From my road to yours, happy wandering.

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