There are times when I yearn for my teenage self it physically aches. Someone once said to me “ask your fourteen-year-old self what they want”. Apparently, this version of you is your truest self. The self that is working it out, right in the middle of navigating the path between child and adolescent. Aspiring to adulthood but still innocent enough to question life deeply without agenda.

My fourteen-year-old listened to a lot of music. She drew. She designed clothes. She sang. She danced. She loved languages. She was excited by the prospect of travel. She played football. She was a tomboy, always in trainers and baggy jeans and jumpers.

This morning I came across a track that I hadn’t listened to in forever while looking for a meditation recording. Eros Ramazzotti. An Italian singer. I only know this one song of his: Più Bella Cosa. I discovered it when I was visiting my German exchange partner. We would stay up late every night playing computer games listening to music. She was an Eros fan.

It’s funny how music can tap into something hidden. I felt compelled to play that track after I had finished my meditation. I’d been tapping into some emotions relating to someone I cared about who was going through a tough time. They speak Italian. The song is of course in Italian, but I hadn’t consciously made the link. At first my response to the song was channelling the sadness I felt for them. But then I realised I was sad for me too. Because I’d lost my connection to that fourteen-year-old girl. She’d cherished that song so much, sitting in her bedroom creating away, day dreaming of living in Europe. Where did she go?

We grow up. We grow older. We forget who we are. Truly.

So, I ask you go back to your teenage bedroom. Sit with yourself. What are you doing? What’s playing on the radio? What are you dreaming about? How do you feel?

And how does this compare to today? Where’s the gap? Where’s the congruence? Are you happier? Anything you’ve lost? Is there anything that you wish you could get back?

For me working out who you are and what you want is a lifetime’s work. We start out knowing and learning about ourselves. Then life happens. We get busy. We get lost. We seek to find.

What if the answers were with us all along?

So today I ask my fourteen-year-old. “What do you want?”

The answer. She wants to live a life listening to music and dancing. She wants to be creative. She wants to live in trainers. She thinks I should really consider getting my football boots back on. And, she wants to move to Europe.

Damn. Good job I have a one-way flight booked.