I am not my past

Yesterday, Sunday, I woke up around 9 AM, greeted by the warmth of the morning sun streaming through my window and the familiar sound of Sunday songs echoing from the living room downstairs. As I lay in bed, I reached for my phone and began scrolling through my Facebook timeline. One post, in particular, caught my attention—a story about how our past does not define our future.

The post featured a black-and-white photo taken under the Quirino LRT station overpass, accompanied by a brief caption about the author’s experience with homelessness. They shared how they once lived beneath that overpass with only a folding bed and a bag of clothes. Today, they are highly successful figures in their industry, helping corporations grow and coaching individuals to succeed. They’ve built a loving family and achieved remarkable professional success. In the post, they wrote, “We remind ourselves of our past not to feel pity, but to know we’ve come a long way.”

This post resonated deeply with me, not because I experienced homelessness, but because it reaffirmed my belief that my past does not define me. My past does not dictate my future; instead, it serves as a foundation for learning and growth.

Eight years ago, when I was 25, I believed I was living my best life. I felt accomplished and thrived in a routine that I thought I loved. I had moved to a big city, worked in offices I admired, and surrounded myself with people I adored. I was coaching, training, learning, and loving life. I believed I had everything figured out and that I was on the path to the life I had always envisioned. I thought it was all set in stone.

But three years later, everything fell apart. I lost everything I had worked so hard to build because I wasn’t ready for the challenges that came with it. I was emotionally unstable, too young, and too forceful in my pursuit of what I wanted. I was so focused on achieving my goals that I failed to understand the consequences of my actions. Had I been more emotionally stable, I might have excelled and done better.

Looking back, I realize that if I had known better, I would have chosen a different path. I would have been more soft, caring, empathetic, and more visionary. If I had been this aware before, I would have chosen a path that put people first. If only I were better, I would have been less destructive.

But the good news is that my past does not define my present. Today, I am emotionally stable and mentally prepared for the challenges that come my way.

When we learn from the lessons of the past, we grow. We look back and recognize our mistakes, which motivates us to make things right. What we do today holds immense importance because it shapes our future.

My early 30s have taught me to be more contemplative. I now understand that learning from the past is essential, but what truly matters is how we use those lessons to build a better future.

With all its triumphs and failures, the past is a stepping stone, not a destination. It is a place we visit to gather wisdom, not a place to reside. Our experiences, no matter how difficult, are opportunities for growth. Today, I choose to embrace the lessons of my past while focusing on the possibilities of my future. I am not my past, but the person I am becoming because of it. The journey forward is not defined by where I’ve been, but by where I choose to go.