How to follow your heart.

There was a version of myself that existed before the noise.

Before expectations, before timelines, before I learned how to be liked, accepted, successful and approved of.

A version of myself that didn’t question what felt right.
She moved instinctively, chose freely and dreamed without negotiation.

And then, slowly, she got quieter.

Not because she disappeared, but because she was spoken over.

By society telling her what matters, by responsibility telling her what’s realistic, by ego telling her what looks good.

So she adapted.
She learnt how to make decisions that made sense on paper. She became someone who could function in the world. But somewhere along the way, she stopped asking the only question that ever really mattered:

What does she actually want?

Not what’s smart.
Not what’s impressive.
Not what keeps everything stable and predictable.

What feels true.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what it really means to grow older… especially those early, formative years that quietly shape everything that follows. Because I’ve noticed something rather fascinating.

In the moments where I feel the most lost, when life feels unclear, heavy, or slightly broken, I don’t find clarity by pushing forward, I find it by going back. Back to my childhood, back to the core of who I was before the world had something to say about it.

And every time I return there, something shifts.

Our childhood is the most honest version of who we are. It’s where our personality begins, our boundaries are formed and where our sense of freedom is first experienced. But somewhere along the way, we stop valuing that version of ourselves…

We remember the challenges, the awkward phases, the things that hurt. But we forget the essence.

When I look back, I don’t just remember her,
I can feel her.

The little girl running barefoot along the beach, flipping on the trampoline without fear, dancing in open fields like no one was watching and climbing pōhutukawa trees with no hesitation.

She was bold.
Fierce.
Stubborn.
Creative.

She cared about the experience, not the outcome. She woke up inspired, not pressured. She was free.

And then it all changed.

She grew up, she learnt the rules. she became aware of how she’s perceived.

She started choosing what makes sense, what looks good and what fits. Not what feels right.

It’s subtle at first, but over time it becomes our reality. We trade instinct for approval, curiosity for security and freedom for responsibility. And the strangest part? We want it. As teenagers, we rush to grow up! Only to spend our late twenties trying to find our way back. It’s like we spend years drifting away from ourselves, just to realise we were never meant to leave in the first place. But maybe that’s the point? No one can teach you who you are, you have to experience what you’re not.

Your twenties are messy for a reason.

They’re the only time in your life where you have both freedom and responsibility. The space to make mistakes and the awareness to learn from them. Then, as you move closer to your late twenties, there’s a pull… a quiet, persistent question:

Who am I, really?

By this point, you know what doesn’t work, you know what drains you, you know what matters and suddenly, alignment becomes more important than approval. This is where your younger self becomes everything. Because when life gets loud, she is the only voice that’s still honest.

So I ask her:

Is this what you wanted?

And the answer is always clear. Because she didn’t dream based on logic, she dreamt based on truth.

So now, when I look at the woman I’m becoming, I don’t measure her by success or status. I ask something far more important:

Is she still free?
Is she still curious?
Is she still creating, exploring, living?

Is she stillher?

Because if she’s not… then something needs to change.

Following your heart isn’t reckless, it’s remembering.

Remembering who you were before the world told you who to be.

Then having the courage to return to her,
not as the same girl,
but as a woman who finally understands.

And quietly within your heart, you too, will find your truth.

All you have to do is learn how to follow your heart again.