It’s strange, isn’t it? The way people hold on to versions of us that we’ve long since outgrown. They remember our laughter from a certain time, our mistakes from a certain phase, our opinions from a certain mindset—and they keep us frozen there. Like a photograph that never ages, while the real person keeps evolving.
The truth is, so many people from your past only know fragments of you. Maybe the you who was still figuring things out. The you who apologized too much. The you who stayed quiet to keep the peace. Or the you who hadn’t yet learned how to say no. And that’s okay. They only met you where you were back then.
But you’ve changed. You’ve shed layers, learned lessons, unlearned patterns, healed wounds. You’ve made peace with some things and walked away from others. You’ve grown into someone stronger, kinder, more grounded—someone your old self would probably be proud of. Growth is not always glamorous; sometimes it’s messy and confusing and full of self-doubt. But it’s also deeply, quietly beautiful.
Not everyone will understand the person you’ve become, and not everyone is meant to. Some will miss the older version of you because that’s the one who served their story better. That’s the version that fit neatly into their comfort zone. But growth doesn’t ask for permission. It happens silently, in small choices, in moments of courage, in the stillness of reflection.
And maybe that’s what makes it so beautiful—it’s proof that you’re alive, learning, and willing to evolve. So, don’t feel bad for outgrowing people, places, or mindsets. You’re not supposed to stay the same. You’re supposed to bloom, again and again, into newer, wiser, freer versions of yourself.
The past might still recognize your face, but the future is waiting for your new light. Growth is beautiful. So keep becoming.
Kenrick Vaz 