Past lives...

I often tell stories from my childhood, stories about running away from home, nearly scaring the babysitter to death by covering my little sister in ketchup... generally designed to make the listener laugh and shake their heads at the terror I was when I was younger.

Looking back, though, it often feels like telling a story about someone else. I often describe it as the feeling of past lives, all intersecting in one body. When I talk about being 16, I can't remember what it felt like to have that much anger and rebellion in my body. When I talk about having my daughter, I don't recall the pain or the feelings involved. It happened, it changed me... and it is in the past.

People often say that the past comes back to bite us when we least expect it. I find it odd that we are judged by our past failures and choices, as though people can never change or grow or adapt. I think that is an awfully grim assessment. I know that I, personally, have made mistakes. I've hurt people, I've hurt myself, I've refused to change even in the face of pain.

But that doesn't mean I'm that same person. My failures have taught me lessons, made me grow. If I met myself back when I made those choices, I wouldn't like myself much. I have no regrets, but I'm also not proud of those decisions either. 

So, my question to you is... do people truly change? Are we all just better, 2.0 versions of who we used to be and/or prototype versions of who we will be? Or do we remain stuck in the purgatory of our youth?