In the last few years, the relationship between my formative years and the present has become more important to me. I’ve been documenting links between early memories and who I am now, so recently I think less about early adulthood, because by then my habits were nearly solidified, and I always considered that period less significant than others.

So it probably isn’t ironic that my twenties and thirties were the epitome of how wrong I was about everything.

This entry started months ago. I continued it only because I’m convinced it will eventually help me move further away from my past. Yet, admitting stupidity and ignorance is uncomfortable, even if these are necessary traits in personal development.

Facing the massive imperfections that delayed my present self and complicated early life is necessary to abandon ego, which is a crucial aspiration since we are selfish beings. Life is a process; I should be embracing that fact instead of procrastinating.

One of my latest goals is to be more realistic about who I am today. Sometimes that’s a difficult task to achieve without judging, but that’s part of the process, too, I suppose. Perhaps sharing my insecurities in a creative setting will help — only time will tell.