I noted elsewhere in this space that I went on weight loss drugs mostly because I wanted to give eighty-year-old me the best shot at life and good health possible. Another decade of obesity was counter that agenda. Eighty-year-old me sometimes chimes in on my financial decisions, too. She will often tell me, “I am glad you put that money in an interest bearing account, kiddo. Inflation is a thing, and I will still need some good chocolate on my grocery list!” She also reminds me, “You can’t take it with you, and that is a worthy cause. Pony up and be grateful you can help.” The old girl speaks her mind.
Six-year-old me has different wisdom to offer. I was still wetting my bed at that age, much to my horror, but six-year-old me soldiered on any way, and learned to run a load of wash in the middle of the night. She knows what it’s like when the body just Does Things–gets morning sick for eight straight months, has migraines, loses hair, gets wrinkly–and she tells me that it’s just part of being human, and not the sum of me as a person. Cope as best you can, and keep 
moving forward. What a comforting view of matters.
Sixteen-year-old me goes more in the bad example column. She made stupid romantic choices, and stuck by them with ferocious stubbornness. Not to be outdone, twenty-eight-year-old me made even dumber wrong turns. I feel compassion for the loneliness and invisibility that drove my decisions at those ages, and I am also still carrying the regrets those choices inspired. Sixteen- and twenty-eight year old me have to occasionally whop me upside the head with a stout, “Don’t be like us. LEARN from your mistakes.” Tough love, I suppose.
Fifty-year-old me is agog at having signed her first publishing contract–at fifty! She wanders around grinning and telling me, “The best is yet to be!” Sometimes, I want to smack her, but her joy is so real and she just might be right. The party is far from over.
I could go on. Fifteen-year-old me was pretty selfish, and thirty-four-year-old me was seriously down. She got the notion to get her backside on a horse, and lo, that medicine still helps me keep life in a gentler perspective.
All of these incarnations of Grace are still very much with me, and I have learned from each of them. Maybe this Ages of Me view of myself is part of why I seldom feel lonely. We are busy, us girls, living life and trying to make sense of it, and that’s a team effort!
Do your previous selves and future selves ever pipe up in your life? Do they inspire, guide, or make you wince?
PS: The print version of A Gentleman of Modest Ambitions is available from Amazon, and the first batch of ebook ARCs has gone out. If you’d like an ARC file, please email me at [email protected].
I do not spend a lot of time thinking about past versions of myself. It would probably be good if I did but there you are. Are there choices I wish I had made differently? Yes, but too late now. I seldom feel lonely but I think that’s because I have my head in a book so often and I share the characters’ lives.
Your essays continually inspire me to think deeper, but, unfortunately, I haven’t done much of that yet. However, I usually feel better for having read them so I appreciate the time and effort you put into them. Thank you.
Thank YOU! What got me going on this topic was hearing the voice in my head that says, “You might regret buying all these flowers, Grace. Somebody has to plant them, and then water them for months on end…” Who is that voice in my head? Why, it’s the ghost of Grace Burrowes past, who has over-bought the posies more years than not… And then I started thinking about all those voices in my head, that are me, but from a different perspective.
I have had time the past few years to reflect on my choices. Sometimes I think prior me was focused on the illusion of the white picket fence. I tried my best to make everyone happy .. and forgot about myself!
I regained my confidence when I started to show the dogs- walking them, training them. & showing them gave me an outlet. Middle aged me missed out on some opportunities and made emotional vs practical choices.
I wasn’t brave enough to make choices in my 30s & 40s that I would wouldn’t hesitate to make now.
I look at life as a lesson- a lesson of learning.
Have anyone noticed that some of the voices that show up in our consciousness are usually the voices of some past decision that today we would do it very differently? At least this is so for me (well, not always but mostly) as in a red flag remembering the effects of some past decision in order for me not to make the same mistake again.
Life lessons, yes.
We’re a regular circus in my head. Old and young me pop up as well as stock sayings from both parents, grandparents, sisters, song lyrics, Bible verses and the odd bit of Shakespeare. What has always surprised me is not everyone has to sort through this mental activity. Wish it took a walk and burned calories.
Hmmm. Twenty-seven-year-old me resides in my head most of the time. That’s how I picture myself so I’m always surprised when I look in the mirror or at a photo. Thirty to thirty-five year-old me was much more adventuresome: bravely travelling by myself, moving to England for a year, taking many graduate-level and Masters classes, throwing myself into hobbies and & activities, and dating a LOT. Almost-eighty me loves to stay at home, read, and putter around the house. I feel that the “shoulds” that come into my head originate outside of me, from society and parents. I’m doing better at ignoring those voices.
I always enjoy your discussion topics, Grace. They’re great at making me ponder.
The book Meet Your Inside Team: How to Turn Internal Conflict into Clarity and Move Forward with Your Life by Cynthia Loy Darst gave me an interesting take on all those voices in my head ….
76 year old me says well hell, you can’t go back and change things but you can do better. You can still travel. You are more understanding. More tolerant. Smarter in some ways. Less afraid of making a fool of yourself.
I’m too busy reinventing myself right now & looking forward to new things to put up with the chorus from the peanut gallery of the past.
Lost 50+ pounds to date ignoring all the “experts” & doing my own research. (Extra clean keto on the verge of carnivore + intermittent fasting.) Who knew it was all those healthy veggies causing my gout??!!! Doctor confounded, but now firmly on board with me, stellar labs in hand to prove results.
Got mobility back after close to 18 years of procedures putting my body back together & have to set the timer on my treadmill (walking) not to ruin the best surgeon’s work. Bless the man, he even threw in some cosmetic work to make my repairs look better before cutting me loose last October. Gotta love that “hold my beer” response to a challenge the lesser mortals in the profession didn’t want to bother with.
Back to the eye surgeon tomorrow, but bless the entire practice, they’ve got me where I can read our Gracie-poo’s ARCs & leave well-deserved reviews. Tweak away, change the meds, but that eye is still seeing & we’re all determined to keep it that way.
Got my head together with a friend looking at a side hustle if we can keep my eye stabilized. Screw the “shoulds” & “ought tos”. I have a lot of new things to learn & do, armed with the hard won lessons of the past, but taking advantage of all the new options open to me.
Flight planning done, I’m headed for the future on full afterburners, leaving past versions staring in amazement mumbling, “We had no idea that was coming!”
After all the ups and downs of all the stages of me, I can now at the 85 year old me look at life smile, laugh at all the blunders and congratulate “me” for not giving up easily or giving in for peace sake, and happily look forward to tomorrow and all the new adventures to come. And breathe easily because life is what we make it!
My generational selves show me a lifetime of aloneness. So many instances so little space. I was quite passive and just took whatever came along. I dreamed a fantasy world and still live in it as far as I can tell. I had joyful moments and moments of pride. I was particularly pleased when I realized it right in the moment. Still my current pleasure is getting pictures of my grandkids on the text app of my phone. Technology isn’t all bad after all.
This is the most touching blog post. Thank you.
I have turned 75 and my only child is recently married and lives out of state. This past month
I’ve been in a funk thinking about what’s next. I understand that I can’t wait for things to come to me, that I have to get out and interact with others. There’s a local knitting group I may get involved with. My church’s Bible study doesn’t meet during the summer and neither does the women’s book study group. Looks like it’s the knitting group.
I have already read the 12th book in the Lord Julian series. Loved it! As I have loved all of them. And while I wait a little impatiently for the next volume (please tell me there is a next volume) I’m rereading the series. I know, No. 12 just was released and it will be a while.
But that doesn’t keep me from being hopeful that Lord Julian and the Duke will find out what truly happened to Lord Harry. I keep hoping that he is somehow still alive.
And will Perry overcome her justified fear of childbirth and she and Lord Julian have a child?
I love these characters. All of your books have great character development and that’s one of the main reasons why I love your books. Also your plots aren’t simplistic. I’m impressed with the plots in Lord Julian’s mysteries! The solutions are not obvious nor simple.
Please keep writing. I love your books and tell my friends and any who will listen that they are not typical romance novels, that they have substance. Actually, I’ve begun rereading all your books and love them just as much the second time around. Thank you for writing.
I’ve just discovered your books with the Gentleman series. Are you using AI to produce so many or do you not sleep? I’m seventy-five and this time is all gravy.