FinegirlDami🧚🏾💜@_FinegirlDami
I was looking for something in my Notes app last night when I came across an old write-up from four years ago.
I honestly don’t even remember writing it.
So I opened it, and before I knew it, I was reading words from a version of me who had so many plans.
I had written about the kind of writer I wanted to be, the opportunities I hoped would come, and the life I was working so hard to build.
Reading it now felt like listening to someone who believed things would work out but had no clue how any of it would actually happen.
The funny thing is, a lot of what I wrote down actually happened.
Not exactly how I imagined it, some things took longer than I expected and some came in ways I never saw coming.
A few things never happened at all. But enough of it became real that I had to stop reading for a second.
Because the things I used to dream about have quietly become part of my everyday life.
There wasn’t one big moment where everything changed. No day when I woke up and thought, this is it. I finally made it.
Life just kept moving.
Work kept piling up. New goals replaced old ones. I stayed busy. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I stopped noticing that I was living parts of the life I used to write about.
That old note reminded me of something I didn’t even know I’d forgotten.
The person who wrote those words had no guarantee that any of it would work. She didn’t know if anyone would read what she wrote. She didn’t know if the late nights, the constant learning, or the effort would ever pay off.
She just kept going anyway.
I sat there for a while after I finished reading because it felt so strange to see how much faith that version of me had when she had almost nothing to hold on to except hope that one day things would make sense.
If you have an old note, journal entry, or even a message you sent yourself a few years ago, go back and read it.
I promise you will see how far you've come.
